For Meritorious Service: a JAG-NCIS Story
by TnJAGAz
Summary: A JAGMan team lead by Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. and the Washington, DC Major Case Response Team MCRT lead by Leroy Jethro Gibbs go after terrorists in Iraq. What they discover will shake Washington and Iraq to the core.
1. Chapter  Story notes

**...For Meritorious Service – A JAG-NCIS Story**

**A story about one of the occurrences that happened during the early days of Operation Iraqi Freedom - a medal winner – did he die in combat or was he a murder victim? The idea for this story came from an article that I read in my local paper about how an Army soldier in Operation Iraqi Freedom was being investigated for a medal of honor posthumously for his actions. The soldier was Army Engineer Sergeant First Class Paul R. Smith (1). I took this incident and combined it with a friendly fire report where an officer was accidently killed by his own men when he inadvertently went behind enemy lines during the fighting.**

**I wanted the JAG team to handle this kind of thing, but I knew I'd have to make a change and have a criminal angle to involve our JAG troubleshooters and so I came up with the idea for this murder/mystery. NCIS's Washington DC Major Case Response Team [MCRT] will join the story later on.**

Caution: A word of warning to all readers – this story deals with soldiers in combat situations so there will be salty language. The JAG crew – in particular Harm, Mac and AJ - was known to let swear words pop out from time to time. Also, this story will be dealing with combat and mature situations, thus the rating.

This tale will be dealing with events at JAG from Seasons 8 & 9, so if you don't like your JAG crew this way, I promise they won't be for long as the events of this story end those versions of the characters. The NCIS crew is as close to their JAG season 8 characters as I could get, but I pieced in information about them from later NCIS episodes when I thought it fit their personalities for this story.

This story also deals with life and death of a recently converted Muslim Marine officer and with al Qaeda. If this story is not your cup of tea, don't read it just because it says 'JAG' or 'NCIS' on it. No one is forcing you to read it.

1. Source: "Scenario 13: Medal of Honor." Road to Baghdad-Iraq 2003: A Force on Force Companion. Osprey Publishing & Ambush Alley Games. 69-72. [I'm citing this source for this information because I lost the original article during a computer crash in 2008.]

**A/N1: Military jargon: For those not as familiar with some of the vehicles and weapons mentioned in story, here's a briefing:**

**AAVP-7A1** – tracked amphibious armored personnel carrier used by the USMC also known as AMTRAC. There is an engineer version, AAVE-7A1 [some are fitted with mine clearing devices], and a recovery version, AAVR-7A1. The AMTRAC also goes by other names – Tuna Boat, Pig, and P-7

**AH-1W Cobra** – helicopter gunship used by the USMC during the fighting in Iraq.

**Barrett M-82 Sniper Rifle** – Heavy sniper rifle (.50 caliber) used by US Army and USMC.

**Beretta M9/ Model 92F** – Sidearm of USMC officers.

**C-5** – Standard USAF heavy transport.

**C-130** - Hercules four engine transport used by US Navy, Marines, Army and USAF. The Marines use a dual purpose tanker transport known as KC-130. USAF Special Operations use C-130 specially outfitted with autocannons and sometimes a 105mm howitzer known as AC-130 Spectre.

**CH-46** – Medium lift helicopter used by the USMC. Nick-named 'Phrog' or 'Frog'

**MH-53 Pave Low III** – Special Operations helicopter armed with machineguns. USMC and US Navy also use a carrier version of this same helicopter known as CH-53 Super Stallion.

**HMMWV **– Known in civilian circles as 'Hummer'-military types call them 'Hum-vees' Depending on its use it may have been heavily armed. Both the US Army and USMC use a version mounting TOW anti-tank missile launcher.

**LAV **– wheeled reconnaissance, light armored vehicle used by the USMC. There are several different versions of this vehicle including a forward observer (FO) version, an anti-tank (LAV-AT), and a self-propelled mortar version (LAV-M).

**M-1A1**—main battle tank of the USMC. Armed with a 120mm cannon and machineguns.

**M2HB **– Standard heavy machine gun (.50 caliber) used by military.

**M-16A3/A4** – Standard automatic rifle of the USMC.

**M-728** – M-60 tank armed with 165mm demolition cannon and a-frame for lifting and towing. It also sometimes has a dozer blade – standard engineering vehicle of the US Army, phased out of service during the latter stages of Operation Iraqi Freedom.

**RPG-7V** – Standard Soviet/Russian rocket propelled grenade launcher called RPG.

**Important characters in ...For Meritorious Service**

**JAG Corps [JAGC] Headquarters, Falls Church, Virginia**

CDR Harmon "Harm" Rabb, Jr., USN  
>Lt. Col. Sarah "Mac" MacKenzie, USMC<br>LT. Bud J. Roberts, USN  
>RADM Albert Jethro Chegwidden, Judge Advocate General<br>LT. Harriet Sims, USN  
>[Yeoman 1] PO 1 Jason Tiner, USN<br>CDR Sturgis Turner, USN  
>[Legalman 2] PO2 Jennifer Coates, USN<br>GySgt. Victor Galindez, USMC  
>CDR Alan Mattoni, USN<br>CDR Carolyn Imes, USN  
>LCDR John Burford, USN<br>Maj. Carly Clemons, USMC  
>Sgt. Marla Givers [Paralegal], USMC<br>GySgt Anson D. Brewster – Staff NCO, JAG Corps Security Coy  
>RADM Stiles Morris (judge) CO JAGC, Trial Judiciary Office<br>Col. Clifford Blakely (judge), USMC  
>CDR Amy Helfman (judge), USN<p>

Clayton Webb - CIA Special Agent – Southwest Asia  
>Harrison Kershaw – CIA Deputy Director<p>

SECNAV Edward Sheffield – Secretary of the Navy

CPT. Tobias Ingles – Captain, USS Patrick Henry  
>LT. "Skates" Hawkes – VF-218<br>LCDR Nicole 'Supergirl' Hollands - VF-218  
>LCDR Alfred Aldridge, Force Judge Advocate, USS Patrick Henry Battlegroup<br>Capt. Natalia 'Lawboss' Seranovich, SJA, USS Oriskany Expeditionary Group

Commander Teresa Coulter - Coroner, US Navy

Jackie Mattoni – Wife of Alan Mattoni

**Naval Criminal Investigative Service (NCIS) Washington Navy Yard, Washington, DC**

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs – Washington DC, Major Case Response Team Head  
>Special Agent Anthony 'Tony' D. Dinozzo – Washington DC-MCRT<br>Forensic Specialist Agent Abigail 'Abby' Sciuto  
>NCIS Medical Examiner Dr. Donald 'Ducky' Mallard<br>NCIS Coroner Assistant Gerald Jackson  
>NCIS Director Thomas 'Tom' Morrow<br>Probationary Agent McGee [Norfolk]  
>CDR Faith Coleman, JAG-NCIS Liaison<br>Maj. Jack McBurney, JAG-NCIS Liaison

Chuck DePalma – Executive Editor, ZNN  
>Stuart Dunston – Senior Southwest Asia Correspondent, ZNN<p>

**36th Marine Expeditionary Unit**

1st Lt Benjamin Lukens, Pilot, Firefly One, 36th MEU Aviation Combat Element  
>2nd Lt. Frederick Buell, Weapons Officer, Firefly One, 36th MEU Aviation Combat Element<br>GySgt. Albert Sanchez, Company A, 36th MEU  
>Capt. Jacques 'Jac' Lewis, CO, Company A, 36th MEU<br>1st Lt. James 'Jim' Hawkins, ACO, Company A, 36th MEU  
>Lt. Col. Darcy Livingston, Force Recon (Shark Leader)<br>MGySgt Rudy Wilbane - Force Recon  
>1st Lt. Carlson Ebbits – Force Recon, (CO, Shark Two)<br>Cpl. Kayce Danvers - Force Recon  
>Col. Ashton R. Briggs, CO, 36th MEU<br>Lt. Col. Andrew Baxter, ACO, 36th MEU  
>Corpsman HN2 Nick Hazon, USN, Company A, 36th MEU<br>SSgt. Thomas 'Zeke' Fuller, (LAV unit 'Rover') 36th MEU  
>Capt. Floyd Johnson, Judge Advocate Division, Staff Judge Advocate, 36th MEU<br>Capt. Don Casey, Hatchet Seven, 36th MEU Aviation Combat Element  
>1st Lt. Phillip M. Dodge, 2 Combat Engineer Battalion, 36th MEU<p>

BGEN Cody Thornton, 2nd Marine Expeditionary Brigade [2 MEB]  
>Maj. Vince Barnett, Judge Advocate Division, SJA, 2 MEB<p>

**MND-Central [Poland] 12th ** {**Szczecin} Mechanized Division **

Pulkownik (Colonel) Luisa Baranova

Fazirah Dodge – wife of Phillip Dodge

Ahmed al-Sahood, Leader, al Qaeda Darunta, Afghanistan Terrorist cell  
>Hamid al-Harib, Leader, al Qaeda al-Diwaniyah, Iraq Terrorist cell<p>

**A/N2: Thanks to JoshuaTree and ElfinKid for beta-ing chapters 1-6 of this story. You guys are the best. Special thanks to my friend and beta Karen who helped me see this through to the final chapters. Later on, AeroGirl, Mkim, Soleil, Janlaw, Mary Ann, and TZ will provide their help and technical expertise. I am indebted to all of them helping make this dream a reality. Also thanks to Lisa Griffon [Yahoo Shipper Group] for pushing me to take a random thought and turn it into my first full blown JAG novel.**

**A/N3: Italics indicate the **_**thoughts of a person**_**. ****xxxixx ****indicates ****scene shift**** not otherwise indicated by a ****JAG time stamp – for example xxixx is a scene shift in Chapter One****. **


	2. Chapter 1

**Title: …For Meritorious Service  
>Author: TxJAG_b<strong>

**Email:  
>Rating: PG, R [some language, combat violence, etc.]<br>Classification: Romance/Story - Harm and Mac – Action/Adventure and the events of Operation Iraqi Freedom…**

**Summary:** A fanfic about one of the occurrences during Iraqi Freedom - a medal winner – did he die in combat or is he a murder victim? The idea for this story came from an article that I read in my local paper about how an Army soldier in Operation Iraqi Freedom was being investigated for a medal of honor posthumously for his actions. I wanted the JAG team to handle this kind of thing, but I knew I'd have to make an obvious change and a criminal angle to involve JAG and so the idea for this murder/mystery.

**Disclaimer:** The characters in this story are the property of Donald Bellisario, Belisaurius Productions, Paramount Pictures and Columbia Broadcasting Service Entertainment – this story is for non-profit entertainment of JAG fans only. No copyright infringement is intended or implied.

**Chapter I **…**For Meritorious Service **

**0630 Hours Local_0330 Hours Zulu  
>25 March 2003<br>Mirbullah, Iraq**

**Operation Iraqi Freedom, D Plus 5**

A lone General Motors 8x8 Light Armored Vehicle (LAV) sat in the pre-dawn darkness on the edge of the village. In the commander's hatch, Staff Sergeant Thomas 'Zeke' Fuller used his night vision goggles to check out the darkened buildings. Nothing moved. No cats, no dogs, "…not even a rat," grunted Fuller. He keyed his radio mike.

"Rover Four to Rovers, sitrep."

"Rover Two, all clear here."

"Rover Three, all quiet - no movement."

"Rover One. This place is dead…man, what I wouldn't give-"

The LAV commander grimaced. That was Headrick, when was that jackass going to learn? He switched his radio to the local net, "Watch your commo discipline, One, you're in Indian country."

"Sorry, Four," The reply was chastened, "It's a go here, too."

Fuller switched his radio to the company tactical net, "Alpha leader, this is Rover Four; the area is quiet, move the turtles in."

"Alpha leader to Rover Four, thanks for the looking under the bed, we're on our way- out,"

"Roger Alpha, give a jingle if you need us."

Alpha leader was the lead AAV-7A1 amphibious personnel carrier in the reinforced Marine Expeditionary Unit, the Fighting 3-2. They trundled their way into the outskirts of Mirbullah. The lead carrier maneuvered through the town square. It was still quiet - no movement - despite all the ruckus the armored unit was making as it began clattering through the square and headed out into the north side of the village. Alpha leader's commander never saw the rocket propelled grenade round which blew his hatch and him to hell and gone. The burning carrier, its top peeled open where the commander's hatch used to be, gave a sickening lurch and crunched into a stone wall, shattering its left track. Flames from the burning carrier backlit the convoy in its hellish light.

The second vehicle following, an armored HMMWV, was raked by heavy machine gun fire, shredding its tires and punching holes though its chassis. Soldiers tumbled out of both vehicles, firing blindly toward the source of the ambush.

"Alpha leader is down!" barked Gunnery Sergeant Albert Sanchez as he rallied the Marines from the armored HMMWV, which had now started to burn. They concentrated their fire on a two story stone municipal building. They could see another grenade round launched from the roof that streaked down and smashed into the dead truck, turning it into a blazing inferno.

"Corporal!" The Gunny pointed to the roof ledge, "RPG! Lay down suppressive fire on that roof!"

Aye, aye Gunny! The Corporal looked at his two remaining squad members, "Suppressive fire on that ledge!"

"You got it Corp!"

As the Marines from the HMMWV began to return fire, the other personnel carriers and HMMWVs began to blunder into the crowded square. Having no place to go, they crowded around the two burning vehicles.

"No!" Shouted Sanchez waving his arms frantically, "Get back! It's a trap!"

Instead of retreating, the rear doors of the carriers began to open.

"Go, go, go!" barked a Sergeant to his squad as small arms fire whacked and pinged off the rear guard carrier. They had just cleared the rear ramp when an RPG round burrowed into its guts, causing flames to belch out of every opening. The concussion tossed the soldiers into the stone wall, knocking several of them out. Another HMMWV coughed flames brightening the dawn. While smoke from the other three vehicles leapt into the air, Marines began debussing from the remaining carriers and HMMWVs, seeking shelter.

The Gunny and his squad dove for cover.

"They've cut us off Gunny!"

Sanchez swore and grabbed the phone from the portable radiotelephone carried by a nervous PFC.

"Rover Four this is Alpha two actual! We've been sucker punched!"

"Hang in there Alpha two, the Cavalry's on the way!"

"Roger Four, out!"

The Gunny looked around. The burning carrier blocked the only other exit out of the square. His vehicle and Alpha leader's blocked the other end. The gunfire from the rooftops was increasing in intensity. There was no other way out and in all likelihood they were probably going to die here.

"Keep firing!" He ordered, "As long as we keep firing, we've got a chance!"

Mixed in with the rattle of small arms fire from both sides, the Gunny could now hear the steady thumping of a twenty-five millimeter auto cannon.

The PFC craned his neck toward the sound.

"They're here Sir!" A cheer erupted from the trapped men. It was short lived as Gunny Sanchez watched an RPG immolate the lead LAV.

"Pull back!" screamed the Gunnery Sergeant into the phone, "They've got your range!"

The LAVs quickly maneuvered away from their stricken comrade and once back a safe distance, they resumed firing at the village rooftops around the square. Sanchez noticed the enemy gunfire slacken as 25 millimeter shells rained down dangerously close to Marine and Iraqi positions.

Hunkering down, the Gunny and the other squads of Marines were hoping and praying the rounds wouldn't fall short. Miraculously, they didn't. Pretty soon, the guns from enemy positions behind them fell silent.

Sanchez was about to give the order to assault the remaining ambush positions when a round passed through the PFC carrying the radiotelephone. All around him Marines began grunting and/or screaming while grabbing arms or legs. During the LAV barrage, snipers had moved into position on the rooftops and where now picking off the Marines of Alpha Company like so many fish in a barrel. The Gunnery Sergeant felt a round zip past his head-a few more inches to the left and he would have been dead. But looking around and judging from the number of wounded, it seemed that killing the Americans wasn't the plan. The realization struck him like brick. They wanted hostages so they could suck others into the trap. Sanchez picked up the radiophone from the dead PFC.

He had to warn the others.

An explosion of crumbling mortar and stones to his left interrupted his call. Swirling through the mortar and stone dust, a lone AAV-7A1 clattered into the Gunnery Sergeant's vision.

"Gunny!" One of the wounded Marines pointed, "It's Lieutenant Dodge!"

Sanchez sat dumbfounded, his eyes refusing to believe what they were seeing. His attention was jarred from the scene when he heard the report of particularly close rifle and felt white-hot pain flash through his right arm. His hand refused to work; looking away from the carrier, he saw his upper arm was a bloody mess. He looked away from the damage and back at the carrier.

"Gunny!" The commander of the carrier was waving frenetically at him, "Get the hell out of the way!"

Sanchez rolled backwards as the carrier plowed past him.

"Hard right Sergeant!" Dodge ordered. The carrier slewed sharply to the right so that it became a wall of steel between the squads of Alpha Company and the Iraqi snipers. The guns of the carrier, including the .50 caliber M2HB manned by the commander, concentrated on throwing the snipers off balance.

"Gunny! Are you okay?" It was Dodge. Sanchez could barely hear him.

Sanchez nodded. Now his ears filled with the tale-tale whup, whup, whup of an approaching helicopter, drowning out the Lieutenant and the enemy gunfire.

Dust and smoke swirled around like mad demons as an AH-1 Cobra gunship roared into view. Its guns roared blazing away at the sniper's positions, joining Lieutenant Dodge's fire and that of some of the uninjured members of Alpha Company.

All of the firepower that had been aimed at the Lieutenant and members of Alpha Company was now directed at the low flying newcomer. Smoke spurted from underneath the gunship as its engine stuttered and it slid to the right.

"Hit the deck!" Barked Dodge, "She's coming in hard!"

The Cobra slid further to the right, streaming gray and white smoke. The pilot brought it down hard in some tall grass to their front. Smoke billowed out of the grass, obscuring the downed gunship.

The sniper fire to their left stopped and now began coming from their front. The ambushers wanted to secure their latest victim. Dodge's carrier leaped to life and headed toward the smoking helo.

Sanchez motioned to the soldiers behind him; they had to keep those pilots from being captured. Ignoring the burning in his right arm, Gunny Sanchez grabbed his rifle with his left arm and stumbled forward, leading a handful of injured and uninjured Marines toward Dodge and the gunship.

Dodge's carrier reached the Cobra first. As before, he ordered the carrier broadside to the downed craft. A hail of gunfire and two RPG rounds slammed into the side of the carrier facing the enemy. Dodge ignored the fire, concentrating on keeping the attackers off balance.

When Sanchez arrived, the pilot was helping his weapons officer out of the smoky cockpit of the Cobra.

"Are you okay?" Sanchez saw the pilot nod. He looked at the Weapons Officer who now had unholstered his sidearm. The Gunny looked at Dodge's carrier. Bullets were beating against the armor. Dodge's carrier was the only thing that stood between them and certain death.

Sanchez's rag-tag squad and the Cobra crew headed toward the carrier.

"Cover fire!" Motioned Sanchez, he saw Lieutenant Dodge continuing to fire at the attackers. "Hang on Lieutenant! We're coming!"

The squad began to return fire. Through a haze of pain, the Gunny saw Dodge go limp and fall over in the hatch of the carrier.

"Corpsman!" Yelled Sanchez. Another Marine repeated his call.

As the medic moved forward, the fire began to slacken. The once trapped carriers and HMMWVs of Alpha Company surged forward toward the downed gunship and Lieutenant Dodge's carrier.

As they passed Dodge's carrier, pursuing the retreating ambushers, the Corpsman climbed on board the vehicle and began trying to help the injured Lieutenant.

Sanchez slid to the ground against the carrier. As he did, a Marine Captain, crouching low against enemy fire, dashed to the protection of the vehicle and looked down at the Gunny.

"Captain Lewis!" Sanchez started to get up. The Marine Captain grabbed onto his uninjured shoulder pushing him back down.

"Rest easy Gunny." He looked at the Gunnery Sergeant's arm, "How bad is it?"

"Not bad Sir," Sanchez lied, "Lieutenant Dodge saved our sixes, Sir."

"He's a hero all right. This guy deserves a medal," noted Lewis in agreement. He looked up at the Corpsman, "How's the Lieutenant?"

The Corpsman snorted, looking disgustedly at Sanchez and the Captain. "This hero has been murdered, Captain."

"Murdered?"

"He's been shot in the back." He and the Captain looked at the gunship pilot and weapon officer. Both still had their sidearms drawn. They were standing directly in back of the Corpsman and slumped body of Lieutenant Dodge.

**1605 Local_2005 Zulu  
>JAG Headquarters<br>Falls Church, Virginia**

**23 June 2003**

Mac was sitting in her office, reviewing the notes of her initial meeting with her latest client. Shoplifting - it sounded so simple, so clean cut - on the surface.

She frowned, _On the surface_, her mind repeated, sounding like Harm, _But what were the underlying causes?_

Closing the case folder, she tried to blow an errant strand of hair now looped down on her forehead back into place. She merely succeeded in making it flip up and move over a couple of degrees.

She shook her head ruefully, "I hate you Harmon Rabb," she said good-naturedly to herself.

"Did I hear my name mentioned?"

She looked up at him with mock annoyance, "Have you forgotten how to knock?"

Rolling his eyes, Harm dramatically rapped three times on her doorframe, "Colonel,"

"Commander," she feigned surprise, "What can I do for you?"

Harm smiled wryly, "I was asking about my name being mentioned and also, aren't you worried that one of those stacks is going to start a chain reaction collapse in this office?"

Mac leaned back in her chair and smiled herself, "Hasn't happened yet Counselor, are you making fun of my visual filing system?"

"Visual filing system?" Harm looked genuinely intrigued, "Is that what you call this? I call it a disaster waiting to happen," Harm tossed out the bait, hoping she would snag it.

She did. "Careful Flyboy, are you mocking my system?" Mac never backed away from a challenge.

He upped the ante, "If you're trying to recreate how the Leaning Tower of Pisa is able to lean without collapsing then no,"

"I can find any file or piece of correspondence I *need* from my towers, Commander," She saw his ante and raised it.

Just then Harriet breezed by carrying an interoffice mailer. She cut by Harm.

"Excuse me, Commander," She turned her attention to the Colonel, "Ma'am is the Dixon testimony ready for mailing?"

_Ah, a challenge_, thought Harm, _This ought to be interesting_. He folded his arms and watched with growing pleasure knowing that she wouldn't find this one. That hearing had taken place over two weeks ago.

Mac saw the challenge. Turning to Harriet, she ignored Harm's presence. "It's right here Lieutenant."

Mac began drilling down through the stack on her desk and picked it out. Smiling smugly, she handed it to Harriet who popped it into the mailer.

"Thank you Ma'am," she returned brightly. Her smile faded when she looked at Harm as she sidled past him, "Commander." She said in an icy tone.

Mac was leaning back in her chair, her smile threatening to break into a laugh as Harm tried to recover his composure.

"How did you do that?" He finally managed after doing double takes at Mac in front of him and Harriet as she went back to her desk.

"It's a secret," she responded as she struggled to maintain her self-control.

"Like the time thing?"

"Yup," Her bright smile took on a flirtatious lilt as she fixed him with an almost sensuous stare, "And if you're good to me, someday I just may show you how to do both."

Harm was about to come up with an equally witty retort. Unfortunately for him it probably would have ended in disaster if not for Tiner interrupting him.

"Commander, Colonel, the Admiral would like to see you in his office."

"Thank you Tiner," responded Mac as she got up from her desk. She shot Harm a 'great going Flyboy, now we're going to get it' look.

Harm shot back his 'what did I do?' look.

**xxixx**

**Admiral A.J. Chegwidden** was signing off on yet another supply form, when Tiner knocked.

"Enter."

Tiner opened the door allowing Harm and Mac into his office. "Sir, Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie reporting as ordered."

"Commander, Colonel," he acknowledged their presence without looking up.

"Sir," they both returned in unison standing ramrod straight in front of his desk.

"At ease." He looked past them at the Petty Officer, "Thank you, Tiner,"

"Yes Sir." He answered as he started to close the door.

"And Tiner, let me know the minute Commander Turner and Lieutenant Roberts are available,"

"Aye Sir."

The Admiral looked at his two wayward officers over his reading glasses - not betraying a hint of emotion.

"Have a seat Commander, Colonel - relax, we have a few minutes before they can get here."

Harm and Mac looked at each other warily and then settled into the chairs in front of their commander's desk not quite sure what to expect.

The central air in the Admiral's office hummed quietly. As the two officers sat in front of the Admiral, Chegwidden looked down again and began signing off on reports.

Mac looked at Harm with a mixture of confusion and alarm. Harm shrugged ever so slightly and settled down in the chair, rested his head on his right hand with his index finger lying alongside his temple. Mac tried her best to relax in the chair yet remain at attention.

"Commander, have you and the Colonel been working on that private assignment that I gave to both of you?" The Admiral never looked up from his paperwork.

Harm, sitting up suddenly, cleared his throat, "Um, yes Sir, ah- both us have been working on it Sir…"

"Good," he growled in a friendly but gruff tone, "How is it coming, Colonel?"

"Slow but steady progress Sir." It was Mac's turn to sweat. She moved to the edge of her seat.

"Progress is a good thing Colonel;" He looked up and fixed her with a dead stare, "Because I won't tolerate stagnation." He then switched his glare to Harm, "from either of you."

Both officers sat at attention in their chairs, looking straight ahead past the Admiral, "Aye, aye, Sir," They responded in perfect neutral unison.

Noting their acknowledgment, he returned to signing the reports on his desk.

"We'll talk more about this at a later time. Please keep me informed of your progress on this important matter,"

"Aye Sir."

At that moment, a knock interrupted the cross-examination.

"Enter!"

"Sir, Commander Turner and Lieutenant Roberts reporting as ordered."

"Thank you Tiner."

"Sir." They presented themselves in front of his desk as had Mac and Harm.

"At ease," he motioned to the empty chairs, arranged around his large oak desk. "Have a seat,"

He looked down at the work on his desk and continued signing off on various pieces of correspondence. He stopped for a moment and without looking up at them, pulled out a large expandable file and placed it on his deskpad.

"Colonel, tell me what you know about the Marine operations around Al Nasiriyah on 23 through 29 March,"

Mac looked at the other officers and then began her report, "Well Sir, on 23 March, 1MEF began operations to take Al Nasiriyah from the 2nd Medinah Armored Division - Republican Guard, Saddam Fedayeen and the Iraqi 11th Mechanized Division."

She paused for a response. He merely looked at her. "Go on."

"Casualties were heavier than expected and the force lost several personnel carriers in the battle, but they did eventually take the town."

The Admiral nodded, "Yes they did, and Lieutenant Roberts," Bud's head snapped up at the mention of his name, "What do you know about Mirbullah?"

"Ah, it was listed as a suspected Al-Qaeda stronghold, 10 miles northwest of Al Nasiriyah, Roberts reported briskly, rolling off the facts he had gleaned from the last intelligence report on the area that he had received. "They were protected by units of the 2nd Medinah Armored Division, Republican Guard. After action reports indicate the operation was a complete success, Admiral."

The Admiral opened a black folder and began reading. "On 25 March, the Second Battalion, Third Marines, also known as 36th Marine Expeditionary Unit, was designated to clear Mirbullah." He looked at his JAG lawyers, "Contrary to all knowledge before today-that operation nearly failed."

He ignored their surprised looks. "As the MEU came into the town, local Fedayeen forces rallied the badly demoralized Republican Guard and they ambushed our guys. Recon by the attached LAV unit had indicated no enemy forces in the region."

"Negligence Sir?" ventured Bud.

"No, Lieutenant, simple fog of war. The LAV unit responded as soon as the Amphibious Tractor unit, GATORFORCE ONE reported it was pinned down. No, this one is far trickier. The unit was pinned down and LAVs could not extract them."

Harm looked as if he were about to open his mouth, but Admiral Chegwidden anticipated his analysis. "Though reinforcements were tied down on the other side of the village, the Colonel in charge was able to spare one of his gunships,"

"So no negligence on the Colonel's part," Sturgis surmised.

"Correct, Commander." The Admiral continued his story, "Just before the gunship arrived, a lone personnel carrier broke ranks from the others and placed itself between the enemy forces and the pinned troops."

"He sacrificed himself Sir?" Mac still wasn't sure where this was going.

"Exactly, Colonel. 1st Lieutenant Phillip M. Dodge, commander of Tractor Two Zero Alpha, was in charge of the detachment of combat engineers assigned to the 36th MEU. According to eyewitness accounts, Lieutenant Dodge ignored his own safety and with a volunteer crew, placed his carrier in the line of fire and held off at least two attempts by the Iraqis to storm the Marine positions. At great risk to himself, he manned the carrier's machine gun, keeping lead elements of the attacking enemy force from overwhelming him and the trapped vehicles of GATORFORCE ONE. This despite the fact that the Iraqis had holed his vehicle with several RPG rounds."

Harm leaned forward in his chair, "That would make him a candidate for at least a Silver Star, Admiral. But it's a posthumous award isn't it? And there were some problems with the award verification…"

The Admiral looked at him. Once again, Harm had confirmed why AJ Chegwidden put up with the Commander's unorthodox methods.

"That's right Commander, Lieutenant Dodge did not survive. He died of wounds sustained as the action was winding down."

Mac winced as she listened. For him to have done such a selfless act only to be killed just as the battle was ending…

Harm asked what everybody else present wanted to ask, "Ah Sir, bravery award verification usually isn't the purview of JAG, so how are we involved?"

Harm hit nail on the head. "We're involved Commander because Lieutenant Dodge wasn't killed by enemy fire. He was murdered."

He ignored the stunned looks of the officers. The Admiral handed out copies of the report – each was stamped CLASSIFIED TOP SECRET.

**-To Be Continued …**


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter II ...For Meritorious Service**

**"Murdered?"** Mac was understandably confused; she absently flipped through her copy. "How Sir?"

"Someone on the Marine side of the battle shot Lieutenant Dodge. MP's right now are holding the Cobra gunship pilot and weapons officer as suspects."

Lieutenant Roberts blanched. "The Cobra gunship pilot and weapons officer?"

"Just before the Lieutenant was killed, the Cobra, manned by the pilot, 1st Lieutenant Benjamin Lukens and weapons officer 2nd Lieutenant Frederick Buell, was brought down by enemy fire. They were able to crash land and join the ground troops. In the ensuing melee, the Corpsman claims that Lieutenant Lukens and/or weapons officer Buell killed the Lieutenant."

Sturgis looked over the last section of his copy of the classified report. "Any reasons given, Sir?"

"None, the pilot and weapon officer said they didn't do it. Everybody else checks out as clean. The local Captain on the scene thinks it was accidental."

Harm looked grim. "I hear a 'but' there, Sir."

"But the Corpsman claims that before the battle, words were exchanged between the Cobra pilot and the Lieutenant."

Harm whistled; Bud shifted uncomfortably in his chair; Mac looked from Harm to the Admiral; and Sturgis slowly shook his head.

"What I don't understand Sir," began Sturgis after a few moments, "Is why now? Why didn't they try this one months ago?"

The Admiral smiled. That usually meant trouble. Harm wished he was anywhere but here. "The MEB Commander, Brigadier General, Cody Thornton, requested our help and specifically asked for the four of you. Your reputations precede you."

The smile evaporated as quickly as it had appeared. "The investigation conducted by the legal team assigned to the case was deemed inadequate. Worse yet, one of the people on the team had to disqualify themselves from the proceedings." He looked at the four JAG Corps lawyers. "They will be brought up on charges in separate trial proceedings."

No one moved or spoke.

"People I don't have to tell you, this is going to be ten times worse than the grenade incident at Camp Pennsylvania if the public gets wind of it. Your job is to make sure that it doesn't."

The Admiral got up and walked over to his darkened fireplace. "The MEF Commander also wants the investigation done quickly and quietly. He turned back to face the JAG Corps officers. If you find there is sufficient evidence to support the murder charge, you are to notify the Brigadier General Thornton immediately, so that court martial proceedings can begin. Due process has been seriously bent here and we have to fix it as quickly as possible."

"The operation at Mirbullah was a black operation. We captured several mid-level Al-Qaeda lieutenants and one liberated SCUD missile launcher pointed at Al Nasiriyah.

If this operation is blown because of the murder, several deep cover CIA agents could be compromised."

Harm again took the lead, "There is more to this, isn't there Sir? What is the other shoe?"

Chegwidden sighed, "The other shoe, Commander, is that SCUD and SCALEBOARD missiles and launchers from the Mirbullah Iraqi forces are now spread over the southern half of Iraq. Our forces are organized right now in clean up sweeps…."

Mac breathed out the answer that no one wanted to hear "'Operation Desert Scorpion…'"

"Correct Colonel; and other sweep operations the SECDEF and the Joint Chiefs deem necessary. Right now, we don't know whether or not those missiles contain biological, chemical or radiological warheads. In order for the SpecOps folks to do their job in secret, we have to investigate and analyze the situation that has occurred and if necessary, carry out court martial proceedings without any of this slipping out."

"You have six hours before you meet your C-5 transport at Dover Air Force Base. They will take you to Baghdad International. From there you'll take a Sea Stallion to Mirbullah and Camp Puller."

Bud decided to ask this one, "Sir, why an Air Force transport?"

"Cooperation is being urged by all services. Knowledge about this one goes all the way up the chain of command. The C-5 just happens to be going your way Lieutenant."

"Tiner has your travel order packets and is arranging transport back to your homes and then to the Air Base. Time is of the essence, people, get to it! Dismissed!"

All four snapped to attention, "Aye, aye Sir!"

**2107 Local_0117 Zulu  
>Dover Air Force Base<br>Dover, Delaware**

**"Welcome aboard, Colonel MacKenzie,"** the Airman directed Mac back to her seat. She was strapping on her helmet as she headed toward the grouping of fold down seats. She looked back and saw that Bud and Sturgis were helmeted and already strapped in.

Mac looked down at the flimsy seat and sighed. At least they wouldn't have to remain belted the whole trip. Also, it was larger than their usual transports – maybe the ride would be smoother…

"Colonel?" It was the Airman again, "Ma'am, can you tell me where Commander Rabb is?"

Mac smiled and shook her head, "He'll be along, Airman, trust me."

The Airman nodded as if he didn't fully believe her. "Whatever you say, ma'am…."

Harm ran the last twenty feet and climbed up the open ramp of the huge cargo aircraft.

The Airman ran over to the Naval officer and grabbed his hand, pulling him further into the craft. "Glad to see you Commander; we were afraid you weren't going to make it, Sir,"

Harm looked chagrined as the Airman lead him back to the seats.

"Glad you could join us, Commander," Mac smirked as she shifted in her seat.

Harm sat down next to her, "Don't push it, Marine," He said good-naturedly.

"Hey, you had as much time as the rest of us to reassign cases," she replied flippantly.

"You didn't have the Rogers' case." He grumbled.

She nodded understandingly. "True." The Rogers' case had been a nightmare to say the least. A double-murder, suicide, and undue command influence all wrapped up and intertwined with a tabloid news reporter. High profile, but a big mess.

They listened as the aircrew prepared the craft for takeoff. Mac's nerves were being rubbed raw by the preparations. Every thump made her flinch. She had to get the noise off her mind. "How do you think the SECNAV's designates will do in our place?"

Harm shared her nervousness. This wasn't a Navy crew and all the thumping seemed unnecessary. "If they're anything like Manetti, the Admiral's going to have his hands full."

"At least he's got Harriet, Tiner and Coates watching his six..."

**xxiixx**

**Up front, the Airman opened the door** to the cockpit. "The JAG lawyers are onboard and secured, Captain."

The pilot, an older Air Force Major, continued flipping switches as the engines of the lumbering cargo aircraft rumbled to life. "Thanks Johnny, you'd better get yourself strapped in."

"Yes Sir," The Airman pulled the door to and secured it.

The co-pilot stopped his pre-flight checks, "Navy pukes," he spit out, shaking his head. "Why are they flying with *us*?"

"Orders from the top," replied the Major evenly, "These guys are to get to Baghdad ASAP. Scuttlebutt says the Joint Chiefs arranged this…"

This comment pulled the navigator away from his checks and into the conversation. "You're kidding, right? The Joint Chiefs?"

The co-pilot whistled and shook his head, "Man, they must be something-what can they do, leap buildings in a single bound?"

The pilot tapped the altimeter. Satisfied it was registering correctly, he continued his pre-flight check. "All I know is what I've heard-that they are the SECNAV's best and that the case is top secret."

The co-pilot snorted, "So they send in their supermen to take care of the mess-"

"Their supermen and wonder woman," The Major broke in smiling.

"A lady?" The co-pilot choked out.

The Major and the navigator laughed. "Watch yourself Captain," The Major warned gently, "If you're not careful, you'll wind up in sensitivity training,"

The co-pilot understood the implication his comment. "Yessir."

"Still, she's not bad looking for a Marine," the Major said to himself as the co-pilot and navigator finished their checklist.

The radio crackled, TWO NINER HEAVY, YOU ARE CLEAR FOR TAKEOFF…

The Major tapped his mike, "Two niner heavy, Roger."

**xxiixx**

**Harm was dozing**. Unlike the Marine transports they usually flew in, the ride (though noisy) was similar to ride in a commercial jet. He took advantage and leaned his head back against the pad behind his head. Mac sometime after she had fallen asleep had shifted over and now had her head lying on his shoulder. Harm unconsciously wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"Sir?"

"Uh, hummm…." Harm swatted at an imaginary fly that was bugging him.

"Commander?"

Harm opened his eyes, squinting. In his blurry vision he could see a helmeted form standing in front of him.

"Bud?" Harm croaked, "What's the matter?"

Bud looked sheepishly at the Commander. He shrugged. "Can't sleep Sir."

Harm became aware that his arm was protectively wrapped around the Colonel. He quickly removed it, bumping her on the back of the head.

"Ow Harm..." groaned Mac, rubbing her head and glowering at him. Then she noticed Bud standing there looking embarrassed.

"Sorry Ma'am, didn't mean to wake you…"

"Just me, right Bud?" muttered Harm.

Bud immediately realized the problem he had caused, "Sorry Sir."

Mac tried to stifle a yawn, "It's okay, Bud. What's the problem?"

"He can't sleep." Explained Harm somewhat irritably.

Mac scowled at the Commander. He chose to ignore it.

"It's my first duty overseas since Afghanistan, ma'am."

She smiled at the Lieutenant.

"It's completely understandable, Bud." Mac replied gently.

"Try counting sheep, Bud." grunted the Commander while he tried to shift into a more comfortable position. There was still plenty of time to catch some more shut eye.

"Harm!" Mac's brown eyes flashed anger.

"Sorry Mac," he mumbled apologetically in sleepy tones and then looked over at the Lieutenant. "Okay Bud, what do you want to talk about?"

His eyes lit up. "Well Sir, It's about this case,"

"The pilot?" Now Harm stifled a yawn.

"And the weapons officer," continued Bud, "I mean how can they be so sure that these guys did it?"

"That's why we're investigating Lieutenant." Sturgis stood beside Bud.

Now all four of them were up and discussing the case when they should be sleeping. Bud, who had started this was already champing at the bit.

"Yeah," acknowledged Bud ready to debate what they knew so far, "But come on Sir, there must've been hundreds of bullets flying-"

"There were Bud," replied Sturgis "But the ones that killed Lieutenant Dodge were from a nine millimeter parabellum, fired from a Beretta 92M, you should read your brief more closely."

"I did Sir," responded Bud forcefully, "But Al-Qaeda has been using captured American weapons as well as ones off the black market-how do they know that the Cobra crew is responsible?"

"He's got you there, Commander," Harm chuckled, impressed by the Lieutenant's tenacity. It reminded him of his younger self.

Emboldened, Bud sensed Sturgis' hesitation and decided to push. "And Sir, why wasn't the Lieutenant wearing his flak jacket? I thought they made it a disciplinary offense not to do so…"

"That's a good question," added Mac, now fully awake, "Why wasn't he?"

"The report doesn't say..." Sturgis replied with a hint of puzzlement. That bugged him too.

"That's very odd." Confirmed Harm who was now fully awake as well. He was intrigued by this obvious piece of evidence that had been overlooked-or was there a reason why it wasn't mentioned? "Something weird is going on here and we need to find out why."

"Well, let's look at the incident itself," Sturgis replied in matter-of-fact manner as he sat down next to Harm. "The 36th MEU detached its amphibious tractor company from its main body along with the heavy weapons platoon."

"What about the tank platoon? I thought they always mixed those with the personnel carriers when conducting offensive operations." Bud settled in on the other side of Mac.

Mac supplied the answer. "The tank platoon became engaged just before Recon reported the town was unoccupied. It was the commander's discretion to send in the AMTRACs. Plus, he had the weapons platoon to back him up."

"Reminds me of the Russian disaster at Groznyy…." muttered Sturgis.

"Are you thinking the Captain might be culpable?" Harm sat up and looked directly at his Academy classmate.

"I'm saying it might be a good idea to interview him."

Harm was about to ask Sturgis more about his suspicions.

"Let's get back to the flak jacket," ventured Mac, "so why did Dodge not have his on?"

"Maybe he got careless Mac." Harm seemed to dismiss her question.

Mac wasn't buying it. "So where did he leave it? In the AMTRAC? Back at base? Come on Commander, he *must* have left it somewhere." Bud and Sturgis looked first at Harm who had fired the first shot and then back Mac who had fired back just as forcefully.

"The report didn't mention where he left it." Sturgis tried to diffuse the tension.

"Look Mac, we'll investigate that and all the other pieces that don't fit when we land,"

Added Harm trying to placate the insulted Marine.

But she was having none it. "Harm, a 1st Lieutenant does not just *forget* his flak jacket."

"Why Mac? Because Marines are infallible? Harm, maybe because he was irritated by Mac's needling, unfortunately added gasoline to a smoldering fire.

"No Harm, I didn't say that-" The color began to rise in Mac's cheeks.

"Look Mac," Sturgis tried again, "All soldiers make mistakes…for instance, during the opening days of Operation Iraqi Freedom, a ranking officer in the 3rd Infantry was killed by his own men because he accidently went behind enemy lines…."

"*Something* made him forget Sturgis," Mac passionately insisted. She was not going to accept that Dodge had been careless.

"Or someone." They all looked at Bud. He had been the first to bring up the missing flak jacket. And now it was apparent he agreed with Colonel.

Mac smiled at Bud's support of her belief. "Thank you Lieutenant."

"You're welcome, Ma'am."

"Well, we're not going to resolve this right now," Sturgis wanted to head off any more feuding between the Commander and the Colonel. "Let's all try and get some more sleep before we land..."

"This isn't over Commander," Mac warned quietly as she settled back in her seat. To add insult to injury, she moved closer to Bud, ignoring Harm.

For his part, the Commander swallowed his clever retort. Now was not the time, nor the place to have this conversation. He sighed and turned toward his academy classmate.

"Way to go buddy," Sturgis shook his head ruefully, "Are you intentionally trying to piss off Mac?"

"Not intentionally," grumbled Harm trying to find a comfortable spot and failing. "It just happened."

"Well, if I were you, I'd stop it now and apologize. She's right you know-you even said it yourself. Something doesn't add up about Dodge discarding his flak jacket."

"I know, I know," Harm said waving his arm wearily. "I didn't like her discounting your impressions of the Captain."

"And so the way to do this is by initiating a Navy-Marine war, huh?" He looked at his friend with a mixture of amazement and anger. "Did it ever occur to you that she might have been providing some evidence that might tie back to the Captain?"

Harm blew out a sigh of frustration. "It wasn't supposed to turn out this way. She was supposed to recognize she had cut you off."

"By you cutting her off?" Sturgis retorted sharply.

Harm grimaced. "Sounds stupid now, doesn't it? She was trying to support your idea wasn't she?"

Sturgis decided not to add insult to injury. "Look, just explain to her that you got carried away during our discussion and apologize for what you did,"

He looked to his friend for assurance. "Now would be a good time, right?"

Sturgis was blunt. "The sooner, the better, buddy."

Harm looked over at Mac and then back at him. "Can't do it. She's asleep." He said half-relieved he didn't have to face that angry Marine just yet.

Sturgis fixed his eyes on his old friend. He felt sympathy for the man, but this mess was Harm's fault and it needed to be resolved – soon. "Then I'd do it as soon as we land."

His words stung, but Harm knew he was right. As Sturgis settled in to sleep, Harm laid his head back and began thinking about how he was going to get himself out of this one.

-TBC…


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter III …For Meritorious Service**

**The bump of the C-5 wheels** snapped Harm to consciousness. He looked around and saw Mac stretching and yawning, shaking off her sleepiness. She looked over and matched his stare.

Harm smiled sheepishly. "Can we talk later?" He mouthed.

Her stare remained stony.

Harm looked down, then back at her, his eyes pleading forgiveness. He hoped she would be willing to listen to him. He really wanted to fix this. They had been friends for too long to let a disagreement like this one to send them back to square one.

Mac looked at Harm and sighed, "Okay…later." She mouthed. Damn him, he could infuriate her and yet she still found him attractive. But she wasn't going to just let him think that all was forgiven. Not yet.

Harm breathed a sigh, but it was not one of relief. The Marine Colonel was not smiling. This was far from over.

**xxiiixx**

**As the engines on the jet transport powered down**, Sturgis, Bud, Mac and Harm got up out of their cramped seats and after stretching out the kinks, began to walk down the length of the aircraft toward the cargo ramp which was opening up.

"Uh, Mac wait…."

Mac stopped and bit her lower lip, waiting for Harm to catch up to her. But wait a minute; he did insult her, so why should she wait for him? Just as he caught up to her, she moved away from.

"Mac…." Harm let the irritation show in his voice. He thought they were going to resolve this.

She stopped and turned. Her eyes locked with his - they were not going to do this here. "Harm, I said later, now is not the time to talk about this."

"I disagree, Mac. We need to talk now." The aviator/lawyer had that look of determination on his face. It was the same one he used with stubborn clients.

He stood looking at her, not saying anything. Her face spoke volumes as she returned his piercing stare. A line had been clearly drawn. _What Harm? Come on_, she thought angrily, _S__pit it out!__Dammit, I won't let you intimidate me into admitting you were right_. "Okay, Commander, you have one minute."

His blue eyes bored into her dark brown ones. The silence between them was deafening. _Just great, a staring contest._ She had enough of this. "Well?!"

This seemed to shock him into action. "Sturgis had a point Mac," He said simply, "You didn't let him finish."

She could not believe what she was hearing. "Excuse me?!"

"You heard me." He folded his arms across his chest defensively, convinced he was right.

"I don't believe *this*," She looked away for a moment then back at him again as if he had grown a second head. Your only concern is that I stepped on Sturgis' point?! I don't believe *you*! What about my point that you so cavalierly dismissed?!" She stalked away from him.

"Ma'am, Sir." The Airman deftly stepped aside as Mac plowed past, followed by Harm.

"Mac…."

This time Mac stopped so abruptly that Harm almost ran into her. She turned and faced the Commander with venomous stare. Her voice was almost a growl. "What Harm, you haven't finished insulting me yet? How about we drag out the fact you *think* all Marines are fallible. Well Harmon, what do you think? Am I fallible?" She could hear the blood thundering in her ears. She dared him to make another stupid comment.

Harm swallowed hard, looking at her. He realized that his stupid comments from the flight had dug deeper than he had first thought. He hoped he was giving the right answer. Unfortunately, he chose to be honest with her.

He breathed out quietly. "Under certain circumstances…yes."

She started to turn away again. Damn him!She was sick of this. Damn him and his self-righteous honesty! Mac just wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. She turned and started to walk away.

_Great; there she goes, Rabb. Okay, maybe honesty wasn't the best policy at this point. So maybe I'll say what I should have said in the first place…_.

"But you are right-" He offered somewhat sheepishly to her back, hoping his voice was loud enough for her to hear.

She stopped, still halfway facing away from him. He couldn't see the tears in the corners of her eyes that she fought hard to push back, so that he wouldn't see them. Lack of sleep from troubling thoughts combined with this emotional roller coaster that they had both rode way too often lately was making it difficult for her to keep her emotions in control. But she was not going to let Flyboy see that-no matter what he said.

"No one just forgets their flak jacket," He said quietly, getting closer to her, "Not in a situation like that one."

"So you're admitting I had a valid point…." Mac's laugh was hollow and her expression was anything but friendly. She looked at him through a mask of stone. Harm involuntarily took a step backward when he saw her face.

That look of hatred humbled him more quickly than any nasty retort that she could have hurled. After all they had been through; he had to break this new wall down. "Of course you did," He said gently, "I never said that you didn't-"

"That's not what you said in the air." There. It was out on the table. She dared Harm to talk his way out of this one.

He paused for a beat. "Then I was wrong."

She sucked in her breath sharply. Her mind reeled. Harmon Rabb, Jr. rarely admitted he was wrong. "What did you just say?"

"Mac, He began tentatively, obviously unsure if he was saying the right words. "One of the things I promised you back in that jungle…was to listen to you, even if I didn't agree with you…even if you pushed all my buttons. I'm sorry I let you down."

She stared at him trying to figure out what he was saying. What did he mean by that? Then it hit her. _Oh my God, what he said in the Paraguayan jungle…he-he's referring to…_.

Her mind tumbled back to the jungle, where the two of them, not sure what their fate would be, had stumbled across how they really felt about each other which lead to where they are now….

***~*~*begin flashback*~*~***

_Mac…._

_What is it Harm?_

_When we get out of this-_

_If we get out this, Flyboy-_

_No Mac; when we get out of this, I'll make sure there is no more miscommunication between us._

_Can I have that in writing?_

_You have my word Mac,_

_As an officer and a gentleman?_

_My word Mac. As your partner and friend and…and…someone who loves you…._

***~*~*end flashback*~*~***

He finally said it. They had both glossed over it during the ordeal; there just wasn't time then to explore what had been said. Then Harm took that temporary assignment with the CIA and Mac had time to think about what he had said. When Harm finally came back to JAG, their relationship was different. The whole staff watched as the two stubborn lawyers took their first tentative steps toward something more than friendship.

She looked back at him staring down at his shoes. In his own way, Harmon Rabb Jr., was trying to make things right. He didn't want to lose what they had built up to this point and truth be known, neither did she. She was still hurt by his comments, but in every relationship you have to give a little in order to make it work. Even if it hurt.

"Hey."

He looked up at her, noting the change in her voice.

"I could have been more patient." She smiled at him.

The beginnings of a smile started to form on his face. "I could have been less judgmental."

She took his hand and squeezed it.

"Ahem!"

Both Mac and Harm started as the C-5 pilot made his way past them. The guilty looks on their faces amused the pilot. _Like two kids caught at the candy store with their hands in the jars_, he thought as he brushed past them.

The incident reminded the Major that he and wife still had some patching up to do from their last disagreement. He silently wished them well.

When he had made his way past, Harm looked at Mac again.

She smiled again. Her voice was soft and gentle. "Come on Sailor, we've got a ride to catch."

**1142 Local_1542 Zulu  
><strong>**JAG Headquarters  
><strong>**Falls Church, Virginia**

**A very pregnant Lieutenant Harriet Sims **carried a stack of reports through the bullpen. Her thoughts were a million miles away - actually more like thousands of miles away. She really wished Bud was here.

Had it not been for Petty Officer 2nd Class Jennifer Coates quickly shifting from her path, Harriet's stacks would have littered the floor.

"Sorry Coates," Harriet said as she continued forward with her burden.

"No problem Ma'am," She saw the Lieutenant was struggling with her increasingly unstable stack, "Do you need a hand?"

"I sure could use one," Harriet acknowledged gratefully. Coates quickly stepped over and grabbed half of the files, which were threatening to spill onto the floor.

"Pardon my asking, ma'am," She cut a quick glance at the name on the topmost folder, "But who are these for?"

Harriet continued moving forward. "The replacements that the SECNAV sent to the Admiral-"

"Harriet?"

Harriet and Jennifer turned to see Alan Mattoni standing at Harm's doorway.

"Lieutenant Commander Mattoni!" Harriet almost dropped her stack of reports.

"The Admiral didn't tell us you were one of the replacements."

The naval officer smiled broadly, "It's Commander Mattoni now," He examined her shoulder boards. "...And It's Lieutenant, isn't it?"

Harriet blushed while smiling, "Yes Sir…."

"Well, congratulations on both counts, He motioned to her swollen stomach and smiled with genuine affection for her. "It's good to see you again."

Harriet beamed. "Thank you, Sir! And, it's good to see you too."

Jen was startled as Mac's door suddenly opened. A red headed woman wearing a naval Commander's uniform looked out at the group. "Harriet?"

"Ma'am!" Harriet almost squealed as she turned toward the woman who was now stepping out into the bullpen. "This is really a pleasant surprise!"

Commander Carolyn Imes made her way over to Harriet. "The SECNAV pulled in a lot of favors to get me back here. I hate being away from Naples, but it's good to see you again too, and-"

Jen answered her question. "Petty Officer 2nd Class Jennifer Coates, Ma'am, Sir." Jen introduced herself to these people who were obviously Harriet's friends. "I'm staff support for both you and Commander Mattoni."

"Weren't you the one that the Commander kept over Christmas a couple of years back when the jail was closed?" Alan asked looking her closely. "Didn't you go UA from _Gainesville_?"

"Um, Yes Sir." Jen colored a little at that comment. "How did you know-?"

"We've kept touch with the Colonel and the Commander since our transfers," Carolyn smiled at the younger woman's obvious self-consciousness about her less than stellar past. "They told us about you joining the staff and how well you're doing."

"And they told us about Bud, Harriet." Carolyn added. "This is great news."

Harriet beamed and Jen relaxed a little at her comments.

Alan smiled, "We're glad to have your help, Petty Officer."

He exchanged a glance with Carolyn and then looked back at Harriet. "We need to get up to speed on Harm's and Mac's cases. We did a little review on the way over, but if you have-"

"Jen has served as support staff to the Colonel and the Commander, Sir," said Harriet quickly. "She really does a good job and she has everything you need." Jen felt herself coloring again.

"Well then," said Carolyn trying to move the conversation along and spare the Petty Officer any further embarrassment, "I guess we're ready then. Shall we get started?"

"Yes Ma'am," said Jen picking up on her cue, "I have summaries for all of Colonel MacKenzie's and Commander Rabb's cases and I can give you a status report…."

**1120 Local_0820 Zulu  
><strong>**Baghdad International Airport  
><strong>**Baghdad, Iraq**

**Harm, Mac, Sturgis and Bud walked down the jetport** toward the front gate. As they reached the ticket area, they saw two Marine officers waiting for them. Both saluted as the JAG lawyers reached them. "Sirs, Ma'am." The four returned their salutes.

The Major looked them over. It was evident he was not happy with the situation. But like any good officer, he was following orders. "I take it you're the JAG Corps investigative team from Washington."

He cut them off before they could respond. "Major Vince Barnett, Regimental SJA and Legal liaison to Colonel Briggs of Battalion Landing Team three-two." The younger officer stepped forward. "This is my assistant, Battalion SJA Captain Floyd Johnson."

"Major, Captain," returned Harm shaking their hands.

Major Barnett looked at Mac briefly before pulling his eyes away. "Colonel, we have a pair of Humvees waiting for us outside. Do you need-"

Mac smiled politely, but firmly cut him off. "We're fine Captain, if you could just get us to the Humvees…."

"Aye Ma'am!" He responded as if a whip had struck him. Harm noted that disciplinary problems were definitely not a concern around here. At least not out in a public area.

Both officers lead them past a steady stream of Iraqi citizens, Marines, Sailors, Air Force and Army personnel as well as civilian and military airport security moving through the jetport.

As they walked out the front entrance's sliding glass doors, two light sand-colored HMMWV Squad carriers pulled up. The Major got in the front passenger seat of the first one and Captain got in the front passenger seat of the other. Mac and Harm got in the back of the Major's and Bud and Sturgis got in the back of the other.

"Giving us the red carpet treatment," observed Sturgis.

Bud nodded but kept his eyes trained on the two Marines in the front seat of their vehicle.

**1145 Local_1545 Zulu  
><strong>**JAG Headquarters**

**Petty Officer 1****st**** Class Jason Tiner** had just left his morning class and was now getting into the office. With Jen and Harriet covering for him in the mornings, he actually did not have to report in until 1100. That gave him enough time to take the metro from Georgetown to his apartment and then drive his car to JAG Headquarters. As he walked through the glass double doors of the JAG bullpen he saw Admiral Chegwidden standing with arms crossed, staring straight at him.

Automatically, Jason's eyes darted to the clock. It was not even 1045 yet. At least he wasn't late….

The Admiral seemed to be looking him over. Nodding to himself as if satisfied with some private evaluation he pinned the Petty Officer with a stare. "Mr. Tiner," he called out, "I'd like a word with you…." Without waiting for a reply, Admiral Chegwidden turned and started toward his office.

Jason audibly swallowed as he heard the gentle calmness of his Commanding Officer's voice. That usually meant trouble. He scrambled to put down his book bag at his desk and hurried over to catch up to the Admiral.

Chegwidden's face was a perfect neutral façade as he led the junior officer toward his office. Jason broke out in a cold sweat. The Admiral stepped into his office and Jason, bracing himself for the worst, followed him inside. "Yes Sir?"

The Admiral now was standing with his back to the young Petty Officer. "Close the hatch, will you, please?"

It was not a request; it was an order, even if it wasn't yelled out. Jason quickly turned and pulled the door shut. He turned back toward the Admiral. His palms were sweaty and his heart thundered in his chest.

"Mr. Tiner, I hear you'll be finishing up at Georgetown in a few weeks." It was a neutral comment.

"Aye Sir." He responded, not sure where this was going.

The Admiral turned around. It was the first time in long while that Tiner had seen anything resembling a smile on the Admiral's face. Maybe his screw-up with Ms. Cavanaugh's engagement ring had been forgotten.

"We need to get our replacements up to speed as soon as possible, Tiner. I think it would be good experience for you to work with Commander Mattoni and Commander Imes on their cases. They could use someone to help them with their research."

For the longest moment Tiner stared thunderstruck at the Admiral. As he saw the Admiral's smile start to fade, he snapped out his shock, his face breaking into a huge grin, "Yes Sir! Thank you, Admiral…Chegwidden…Sir!"

The Admiral's temporary annoyance with Jason's vocal fumbling quickly faded, replaced once again by that faint smile. "Tiner, while I'm having you help them, you will still need to keep up with your present duties," He watched as the Petty Officer's grin began to subside as the reality of the situation began to hit him. "Are we clear on this, Petty Officer?"

Jason did not hesitate this time. "Oh Yes Sir, Aye Sir, Crystal Clear…. You can count on me Sir. I won't let you or Commander Mattoni or Commander Imes down, Sir."

Chegwidden nodded thoughtfully as he sat down at his desk. He picked up his reading glasses and put them on. He looked up and noticed that Jason was still standing there.

"That will be all, Petty Officer," replied Chegwidden dryly with that slight smile on his face, "You're dismissed."

"Aye Sir! Thank You Admiral!" Jason snapped to attention so hard that he clicked his heels. He quickly spun around, marched to the door and opened it. Stealing a quick glance at the Admiral, he beamed as he left the room, closing the door behind him.

Chegwidden looked over his reading glasses at Tiner's exit. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head.

**xxiiixx**

**Out in the bullpen** Harriet, Jen, Mattoni, and Imes watched as Jason strode purposefully over to his desk.

"What do you think that was all about?" whispered Jen to Harriet and company as they watched Jason pull out one of his law books and begin to scan through it.

"I have no idea, Harriet confessed, "But whatever happened, it must've involved his classes."

"I hope the Admiral didn't tell him to drop the morning class. We've already said you and I can cover for him in the mornings."

Harriet turned to face Jennifer. "I don't think so, Jen, the Admiral might do a lot of things, but he wouldn't ask him to do that."

"Excuse me, Lieutenant?"

All four turned to see a Naval Lieutenant Commander standing in the middle of the bullpen staring at the group.

"My apologies, Commander…" Harriet could not see his name badge, which was obscured by the stack of folders he was carrying. "Let me get some of those file folders for you, Sir…."

The Lieutenant Commander was obviously relieved someone was going to finally help him. He handed Harriet a small portion of his files. "Thanks and it's Lieutenant Commander John Burford and you're-"

"Lieutenant Harriet Sims, Sir." She finished for him, introducing herself.

"And these are-"

"-Commander Alan Mattoni," He extended his hand to the new man.

Carolyn offered her hand as well. "Commander Carolyn Imes, TAD Falls Church,"

John shook both their hands in turn. "I'm on TAD here as well, looks like we're all in the same boat." He was standing near Lieutenant Bud Robert's doorway. He was a little shorter than Harm, but was also somewhat thinner. His pencil thin black mustache drooped on both ends, looking like a dying caterpillar.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't old Hang'em High Burford."

Everyone turned to see a female Marine Major standing just inside the entrance to the bullpen. She had her eyes fixed on the Lieutenant Commander. The man's easy going stance disappeared and his features hardened.

"This doesn't look good-" whispered Jen to Harriet. Harriet nodded slightly.

Alan and Carolyn watched the strange scene unfold as the Major ignored them and walked up to the Lieutenant Commander until she was inches away from his face.

"Well Burford," She continued to focus her eyes on him. "Haven't you got anything to say?"

"Good morning Major Clemons, Ma'am." He replied in a clipped tone. It was obvious that John had dealt with her before, and the experience hadn't been a pleasant one.

"Major Clemons!" She jumped. Carolyn Imes looked sternly at the stunned junior officer, who had snapped to attention when the Commander barked. "We exercise a measure of respect and decorum around here that is obviously alien to you. I do not want you to repeat that nickname or any other. And I want you to treat Commander Burford with the respect that is accorded his rank. Am I clear on this?"

"Yes Ma'am! Aye Ma'am!" Harriet saw that she cut a quick look of pure hatred toward John when Carolyn looked away for a moment. For his part, John looked stoically at her.

Alan observed the interaction between the two junior officers. It might be best to keep them apart for a while until they figured out what was going on between them. Alan nodded toward his partner. She acknowledged his silent request.

"Major, could I have a word with you? In private?"

"Actually Ma'am, I'd like to find out which office is mine-"

"This won't take but a minute Major." She looked at Alan and the rest of the group. "We can use my office. Please excuse us."

Carolyn and the Major stepped into Mac's office. Carolyn shut the door and pulled down the blinds.

The three junior officers relaxed. Alan looked incredulously at John. "'Hang'em High Burford'? What the hell was that all about, Commander Burford?"

John let out a frustrated sigh and shook his head. "The Major didn't like the way I tried a case." He said simply as if that answered the question.

"Would you care to elaborate?" probed Alan.

"I convicted one of the officers under her command. He's serving life at hard labor in Leavenworth."

Both Jen and Harriet exchanged shocked looks.

"I see." Was Alan's only response.

John knew what was coming next. "In case you're wondering Sir, she is not harassing me. At least, not in a sense that could be construed as harassment."

"But she does ride your six hard every chance she gets…."

He shifted his stance; it was obvious he was uncomfortable talking about this. "You could say so, Sir."

"You won't press charges."

John knew the senior officer's comment was not a question; it was actually more of a confirmation.

"No Sir."

Alan decided to tackle this problem from a different angle. "Did you have a bias against this person you convicted?"

Genuine astonishment crossed John's face. "Oh no Sir! My prosecution was judged to be fair and unbiased."

Now it was Alan's turn. "She brought you up on Article 32 charges?"

"Yes Sir, but the court found in my favor."

**xxiiixxx**

**Inside Mac's office**, Major Clemons stood at attention. Carolyn walked around to her front. "At ease, Major."

She shifted to a parade rest position. "Thank you Ma'am."

"Major, help me understand something," The Marine turned toward Carolyn "What is your beef with Commander Burford?"

The Major eyed the Naval Commander for a moment, as if appraising her. "Permission to speak freely Ma'am?"

Carolyn sensed this might turn ugly. "Permission granted Major; just don't get too carried away."

"Aye Ma'am. Commander Burford prosecuted one of the officers from my old unit. I felt his handling of the case was high-handed and biased."

Carolyn moved over and sat on the edge of Mac's desk with her arms folded, facing the Major. "What was the charge?"

"Charges Ma'am." Major Clemons carefully corrected her superior. "Violations of Articles 89, 92, 107, and 128-"

"-Disrespect toward a superior commissioned officer, Failure to obey orders, Making a false official statement, Assault-those are pretty serious charges, Major."

"Yes Ma'am," She looked down for a moment, but then raised her head and fixed the Naval Commander with a pained and tortured look. "But I had known Captain Seibert since The Basic School and Officer Candidate's School. This wasn't his style. I tried to tell Burford that, but he told me I was too close to the accused and couldn't see the evidence objectively."

Carolyn felt that her initial impression had been misleading. _Was it possible that Lieutenant Commander Burford was lying?_ "And the evidence was pretty damning?"

"A lot of it was circumstantial, but it was enough to get him hard labor at Leavenworth," She saw Carolyn's face harden at that comment. "But it wasn't deserved, Ma'am," she countered, "He took the fall for someone else, for some reason, he was covering for somebody."

Was she in love and couldn't see that he was guilty, or was she right? "Who was he covering for? Could you prove that he's not guilty?"

"He wouldn't tell," Carolyn heard a tremor in her voice. Then just as quickly she regained her composure, but her face filled with another emotion. "As for proving anything, no, Mr. Burford had done his hatchet work too well." The words, filled with anger, had tumbled out of her mouth before she knew she had spoken them.

She looked at the Commander apologetically. "Sorry Ma'am."

Carolyn nodded her acceptance. She thought she was beginning to understand where Major Clemons was coming from.

"So you couldn't get any supporting evidence?"

The Major sighed. "None; and even worse, it was like Frank had become an outcast. All of his senior and junior officers turned against him."

Carolyn stared at her not sure of how she felt about Clemons anymore. If she was lying, she was damn good. If she wasn't, then Carolyn would try to help her. "Except you."

"Except me." The Major, somewhere in the conversation, she had dropped from the parade rest to a comfortable if formal stance. Carolyn could see the determination in this young woman's face. There was more here than meets the eye.

"Look Major-"

"It's Carly," offered the Major with an honest smile. "My friends call me CC."

"Carly," Carolyn wasn't sure she wanted to go that far yet. "You can't come in here and proceed to rip Commander Burford a new one, despite the fact you feel he's at fault for what happened to Captain Seibert."

"Yes Ma'am, I understand that now, and I apologize to you for what happened."

Now it was Carolyn's turn to sigh. They were making progress, but Carly had a long way to go. "But it's not just me you have to apologize to…."

"Yes Ma'am…I understand."

"Good." I hope you do, Carly. "Let's go back out and see about mending fences."

**xxiiixx**

**The door** to Mac's office opened.

Alan leaned in towards John's ear. "We'll talk more about this later, Commander Burford."

"Aye Sir."

A chastened Major came out of the office and looked at John. "Commander Burford, I want to apologize for my behavior earlier."

John looked at her with apprehension. After a long silence that caused activity in the bullpen to slacken, John softened his features.

"Apology accepted Major, we all have bad mornings."

She then looked at Jen and Harriet. "I also want to apologize to you, Lieutenant and to you, Petty Officer. My actions were unwarranted and inexcusable."

Harriet and Jen were silent for a moment, studying the Major. "Apology accepted, Ma'am." Harriet said quietly.

"Uh, Jen, why don't you show me what case files I need to review?" Carolyn steered Jen toward her office.

Alan took the hint. "Harriet; come in and we'll get started."

"Yes Sir." she walked over his doorway as he ushered her in.

The entire bullpen had stopped and was now looking at Burford and Clemons.

"As you were." She replied to the group. The office resumed its hum of activity. She started to walk away from him but as she did, she leaned over and whispered in his ear as she passed, "You'll pay for this one, John-boy."

Burford watched as Clemons went into Singer's office and shut the door. He sighed heavily and walked over to his doorway and then inside. When his door was shut, activity in the bullpen slowed for a few minutes as everyone looked at the two closed doors. Then everything returned to normal, or at least as normal was it was going to be for a while.

**1140 Local_0840 Zulu  
><strong>**Baghdad International Airport**

**The Humvees pulled away** from their parking spots and into traffic passing a wizened beggar holding a battered canteen cup and squatting between the bustling mixed civilian and military crowds.

As the HMMWV drivers began to maneuver through the airport traffic, an explosion ripped into the right side of the roadway. Several vehicles, both civilian and military, swerved violently, blue smoke blossoming from their tortured tires. The squad carriers veered sharply to the left to avoid the smoking hole left by the blast.

"Ambush!" barked the Major's driver as he cut the wheel hard left, barely avoiding a skidding HEMTT 8x8 cargo truck that barreled across their front. "Keep your heads down, Sirs!

Mac quickly un-holstered her sidearm as did the Major. They both undid their windscreens, searching for the ambushers. It was difficult to see anything given the chaos caused by the skidding vehicles. Unavoidably, several collisions occurred. A battered taxi slammed into the rear of another Humvee. A 4x4 FMTV cargo truck banged into the side of an M984 eight wheeled wrecker. Two late model sedans smashed into each other as a late model Ford SUV barely avoided that wreck, only to wind up getting hit on its left side by a Humvee and on the right by a skidding airport security car. The drivers of the Squad carriers did their best to slalom through the stalled traffic and around the wrecked vehicles and the debris from their accidents.

Another RPG round whizzed past the front windscreen of Harm and Mac's Humvee, smacking into the concrete roadway to their left. The quarter ton trucks, miraculously untouched, continued zig-zagging.

"Driver!" yelled Harm, "Does this thing carry any armament?!"

"Just me Sir!" Returned the driver as he swung the wheel hard right to avoid a burning Isuzu station wagon.

**-TBC…**


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter IV …For Meritorious Service**

**"Six o'clock low!"** Barnett pointed toward the enemy position. "RPG team in the ditch!"

Mac steadied her weapon against the wild gyrations caused by the driver and loosed off five rounds. The Major did likewise.

The RPG team ducked down as Mac and Barnett's bullets peppered the concrete lip of the gully.

The drivers swerved back to the left, shooting past a dark green Humvee squad carrier. This one, armed with a .50 caliber machine gun, was banging away at the ambushers. Harm wished they had that kind of firepower.

In his swerving Humvee, Captain Johnson and Sturgis undid their windscreens, preparing to fire as well.

"Can you see anything!" snapped Johnson. Amidst the smoking wrecks and wild confusion caused by the skidding and swerving vehicles, it was hard to spot where the enemy was lying in wait. For the moment, it seemed the heavy machine gun was keeping the ambushers off balance-

As if in defiance to the machine gun fire, another RPG round shot past the swerving Humvees, smacking into a stalled Diahatsu delivery truck, obliterating the cab of the vehicle and its occupants.

The billowing fireball from the wreck seemed to give the .50 caliber gunner his chance. He rattled off a long burst, catching the RPG gunner across the chest. As the large bullets ripped him apart, his undamaged and loaded launcher tilted downward and fired. The round hit the concrete lip of the gully before any of the gunner's confederates could react. The resulting explosion annihilated the group, sending chunks of concrete and body parts flying across the road.

"Keep going!" ordered Barnett, "Get us lost in the traffic!"

"You don't have to tell me twice Sir!" responded the driver grimly as he mashed the accelerator to the floorboard. The Captain's Humvee followed suit and soon both shot out of the airport drop-off loop and into highway traffic.

**1210 Local_1610 Zulu  
>JAG Headquarters<strong>

**John looked over the legal brief** on the case assigned to him by the Admiral. The brief was succinct, but spotty. He'd get a better idea about how to approach his defense of the client if he looked at the actual case file. He began looking around on his already cluttered desk for the file. Nothing. Maybe it wasn't in the stack he had been given when he arrived. John got up from his desk and walked into the bullpen. _Maybe Petty Officer Coates or Lieutenant Roberts would know where to find it…._

As he approached Harriet, he saw Major Carly Clemons come out of her office and make her way over toward him.

_Oh great, here we go again,_ John noticed that her smile was most unsettling.

"Aren't you going to introduce me to your pals? I didn't get a chance to properly meet them before." She looked over at Harriet and the others. Several pairs of eyes in the bullpen took notice of what was unfolding.

Harriet, sitting at her workstation, looked from the Lieutenant Commander back to the Major. She cleared her throat and stood. "Lieutenant Harriet Sims, Ma'am; liaison to the IGO."

Jen followed her lead. "Petty Officer 2nd Class Jennifer Coates, staff assistant to the JAG attorneys, Ma'am."

Both stood eyeing her with a mixture of worry and defensiveness. The Major's tone and facial expression already indicated her true feelings toward Lieutenant Commander Burford and they did not want to get in the middle of this war.

The Major eyed them intently. "Carly Clemons, on TAD from Pearl to JAG Corps Headquarters."

"We're glad to have you here, Ma'am." responded Harriet with what she hoped sounded like sincerity.

"Glad to be here," she replied. It was obvious that Carly did not believe her. She looked over at Jen. "Petty Officer, I need your help."

Jen felt as if someone had put her on permanent latrine duty. "Yes Ma'am?" She asked hopefully, praying it didn't put her into the crossfire.

"One of my case files has some missing parts. Can you get me a copy of the Washburn testimony?"

It would mean delving into closed files in the dank basement of JAG, but a witness statement for a retrial kept Major Clemons happy, it would be worth it.

"Absolutely Ma'am, it will take some time," Jen explained, "Because the file is in the sub- basement-"

"That's fine Petty Officer," Carly replied cutting her off, "The sooner you get started, the sooner you'll be done."

Jen shot a quick look over at Harriet which conveyed her disgust. Harriet smiled weakly.

**1330 Local_1730 Zulu**

**It had been a memorable day so far**, thought Harriet as she made her way across the bullpen with yet another file for Major Clemons. There had been a few close calls between the Lieutenant Commander and the Major, but so far-

"Oh, Lieutenant?" _Nuts!_ It was the Major, again.

"Yes Ma'am?" Harriet dreaded what she was going to hear next.

Carly came to the doorway of her office, her head down, reading through yet another old case file. She was really sinking her teeth into this case. She looked up momentarily at Harriet. "Can you get me a copy of the Gutierrez testimony?"

"Right away, Major," She managed to force out in as neutral a tone as possible. "And here is the Yates case file, Coates said the information you're looking for is on page twenty-one." Carly looked blankly at Lieutenant Roberts for a moment and then as if some switch had been snapped on, the Major broke into a big fake smile. "Thank you, Lieutenant Roberts, now if you'll just get me the Gutierrez transcript, I think I'll have everything I need."

_In a pig's eye Major, you said that three case files ago_, fumed Harriet. It was almost like she was working with Lieutenant Singer again—and those same emotions from that experience were threatening to surface again. Harriet worked hard to remain stoic even though she really wanted to strangle the bwitch.

"Yes Ma'am." Harriet turned and started to walk back to her desk.

"Oh and Lieutenant?" Harriet, who had her back still turned to the Major, clenched her teeth and rolled her eyes, closing them in frustration. Willing herself to turn around, she plastered a fake look of concern on her face.

"Yes Major?"

"Thank you for your help this morning. Without you, I never would have gotten up to speed on this one."

That took the wind out of Harriet's anger. She stood looking blankly at Major Clemons for a moment. Then she realized she was staring, obviously dumbstruck, at the Major. A blush rising to her cheeks, she looked down. "Uhh thank you, Ma'am."

For her part Carly could see that her well timed compliment had thrown this teacher's pet off guard. Good, the simple ones were always the easiest to control. _Let's just throw in a little concern to ensure embarrassment._ "Lieutenant? Are you okay?"

Harriet may have been a former cheerleader, but Major Bubble Butt would be wise not to underestimate her. "Just my little one giving me a kick Ma'am—it kind of stunned me for a moment. And I'll give Coates your request… And Ma'am?"

Carly, who had started to go back inside her office, turned to face her adversary.

"We're glad to have you here," said Harriet sweetly, "You're really doing a great job." _Take that, you black haired hag!_

Now it was Carly's turn to be stunned. Harriet smiled brightly. _Game and match, Bubble Butt!_

She swiftly turned away her smile becoming much more mocking as she headed to Jen's workstation, leaving a slack jawed Major in her wake.

**1150 Local_0850 Zulu  
>Baghdad International Airport Road<strong>

**Barnett, Mac, Johnson and Sturgis were resealing** their windscreens as the two Humvees slowed down and matched the speed of the various military and civilian vehicles around them.

"Damn terrorists!" The Major swore vehemently. He was still shaking from the extra adrenaline that had been dumped into his bloodstream. He then remembered Mac and Harm were in the back. He turned to face them. "Sorry Ma'am, Sir…"

"It's all right Major," Mac responded being a little winded herself.

"Gut reaction Major," Harm added, "We know the feeling."

In the second Humvee, Bud and Sturgis exchanged glances of relief. "Is it like this every day?" Bud asked, momentarily stunned by the ferocity of the attack.

"Sometimes we have two or three 'incidents' a day, Sir," replied Captain Johnson's driver. His voice was still a little shaky and full of pent up emotions.

"Meaning no disrespect Sir, I'm a short timer," continued the driver, "Got three months to go before I rotate back and.…" Not sure if he should or could continue, the driver trailed off.

"We understand." replied Sturgis realizing just how hard being here had been on some of these soldiers. It wasn't that they weren't willing to do what was asked of them, but like soldiers of all wars, they had left family, wives and girlfriends to do this dangerous business.

"Thank you, Sir." replied the driver, obviously relieved that his comments were not going to be taken a criticism. "But I'll stay if they ask me to. My wife's brother was killed at the World Trade Center." It was evident that the man was torn about what to do.

"No one would blame you if rotated home," added Bud trying to lessen the soldier's guilt "You've certainly earned it."

"I would blame myself if my buddies were killed and I could have done something to stop the bastards gunning for them."

Neither Sturgis nor Bud had an answer to that one.

As they passed through downtown, the two HMMWVs passed several burning buildings. Hoses snaked across the road from both military and civilian fire trucks as firefighters were trying valiantly to douse the roaring flames. Grim US Army soldiers stood by a couple of Bradley armored personnel carriers guarding the surrounding buildings against looters.

A little further down the street, two Iraqi policemen assisted by two Army military police officers, had a barefoot man down on the ground, his wrists wrapped with plastic handcuffs. Around them stood a crowd that seemed openly hostile to the handcuffed man, occasionally spitting his direction and calling out insults. A few tried to get close enough to hit him with their shoes, but the two MPs had their guns drawn, making them keep their distance.

The traffic slowed to crawl as they moved across a major intersection. Over to the side of the road, Hungarian and Spanish soldiers were inspecting a man's car for contraband. The soldiers had pulled out the man's backseat and were checking the car's engine compartment despite the man's vehement protestations of innocence. Mac saw people sitting in an open air café near the road, staring out at the traffic. A few smiled and waved at the Humvees, but most either ignored the army vehicles or looked at them with thinly veiled contempt. It was not unlike the conditions they had seen in Afghanistan or Pakistan. While most of the populace was grateful for what the Americans and British had done, there were still those that resented their presence. And even more disturbing, some in that crowd were dedicated to killing them.

As they passed the intersection, both vehicles continued to thread through the downtown traffic, but at a much more acceptable rate.

**1342 Local_1742 Zulu  
>JAG Headquarters<strong>

**Harriet was reaching the end of her rope**. In the last hour Bubble Butt-that is, Major Clemons-had requested at least twenty case files. She and Jen had made numerous trips to the basement file room, pulling out musty, grit covered files and brought them to her only to have the Major look at them momentarily and then drop them in the return to file basket. So much for lunch. Harriet had let Jen retrieve the majority of the files, but she felt guilty about this and probably had made more trips to the basement than she should have.

As she arrived back at her desk, Harriet was breathing heavily, her arms and legs felt like lead and worst of all she needed to go to the bathroom, again.

"Oh Lieutenant," _Not again!_

It was Major Carly Clemons, looking impatiently at her. _What now?_

Ignoring the urge to bark at her, Harriet steadied her breathing and stood "Yes Ma'am?" She dreaded what she was going to hear next.

"I need another case," _What a surprise_. "Could you or Coates please get me the Johnson Court martial?"

Inwardly, Harriet groaned. That had been one of the first cases she had filed after transferring to JAG Corps. It was also quite possibly the largest. The case had taken Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie months to prepare for and it was stored in at least seven record storage boxes. It would take a couple of hours to bring all of the boxes out of the basement.

She was about to respond when Jason stepped up to her desk. "I'll take care of that Ma'am," he shot the Major a guarded look. "You need to rest and have some lunch."

Harriet smiled at the senior Petty Officer's intervention. She was grateful that had he spoke up.

The Major said nothing as Jason Tiner headed out of the bullpen for the elevator. When he reached the doors, Jason met Jen as she came back from another errand.

"Where are you headed?"

"To the basement," replied Jason grimly. "Major Clemons needs the Johnson court martial."

Jen's eyes widened. "You're kidding."

"She needs it to prepare for her upcoming case which she is defending against Lieutenant Commander Burford. The Major had requested that Lieutenant Roberts retrieve it."

Jen was about to comment on the necessity of that request when the elevator arrived. They got on and Jason pushed the button for basement.

Noting that no one else was on board, Jen waited until the doors shut. "That witch! Like she's going to find anything in those boxes for her case!" spit out the junior Petty Officer.

Jason smiled at her righteous indignation. Jennifer Coates was cute when she got upset like this. He remembered that he had overheard Harm telling Harriet that she had used the same epithet to describe Lieutenant Singer when she had accused Jen of taking her bracelet.

"I'm glad you're coming down to help me," he said nonchalantly without looking at her. "That is why you got on board with me, isn't it?"

She smiled shyly, looking away from him, biting her lower lip. "Sure, I figured you could use the help."

"I'm glad that you did."

Jen felt a blush creeping onto her face. She looked up at Jason and smiled. He returned her smile.

**1215 Local_0915 Zulu  
>Downtown Baghdad<strong>

**Harm and Mac sat in companionable silence** in the back of Barnett's Humvee. As they continued through the city, Harm placed his hand lightly on top of Mac's which was resting beside him.

As soon as she felt the pressure and the warmth of Harm's hand, she shot him a look of surprise. They were not alone in fact, if the Major or his driver saw what he was doing, they could get in real trouble. "Harm…." she whispered urgently.

Harm didn't retreat, he merely smiled at her. It was a disarming smile. "Just making sure you're okay, Marine."

Mac relaxed a little, but moved her hand slightly so it rested on her leg. "I-"

"-Can handle it," Harm finished softly for her, "You're a Marine."

Under normal circumstances this would have annoyed or even angered her, but deep down she knew that he was showing concern for her, in a way he hadn't expressed before, in the only way he could right now.

She smiled. "That's right Flyboy, her whisper took on a huskier tone, "And don't you forget it."

His blue eyes locked onto her brown ones. "I wouldn't have it any other way, Mac."

"I don't envy you." Bud said his sympathy evident for the two Marines as they continued through the city. They had seen so much since they left the airport.

On the next street, they passed a burned out Iraqi T-55 sprayed with competing pro and anti-American graffiti and slogans in Arabic. Children were hanging off the wreck, laughing and playing as if they were on a piece of playground equipment.

On yet another street, a mixed group of NATO peacekeepers and American soldiers were talking with a group of Iraqi policemen. Both groups stopped what they were doing when the two Humvees moved past. They stared, their faces betraying their fatigue and depression.

"You were saying that you don't envy us, Sir?" asked the driver as they pulled past the scene.

Bud didn't have any words left.

"Well, neither do I Sir," replied the driver dryly, still feeling the stares of the soldiers and policemen. "Neither do I."

**1409 Local_1809 Zulu  
>JAG Headquarters<strong>

**"Thank you Tiner,"** Harriet said with heartfelt appreciation as Jason and Jen brought the dust and dirt covered boxes into the bullpen.

Jen carried her boxes up to Lieutenant Singer's office. "Ma'am? Here are the first boxes for the Johnson court martial that you requested-"

Carly Clemons looked up from the affidavit she was reviewing. "Thank you Petty Officer, just put it beside my desk." She resumed looking at her papers. Jen put down the boxes and came to attention. "Yes Ma'am." She pivoted on her heel and exited the room.

Shortly thereafter, Jason walked to Major Clemons' doorway and knocked.

"Major Clemons?"

She looked up "Yes, Petty Officer?"

"The rest of the boxes you requested, Ma'am. He put the boxes with the other ones around her desk. She open one of them, picked it a file folder and began flipping through it. "I've got you now, Burford," She said in a low voice, and then she cut her eyes back to Jason. "Thank you, Petty Officer."

Jason saluted, "Aye Ma'am." He pivoted and exited Singer's office.

He walked back to his desk where Jen and Harriet were waiting.

"I'm glad that's over." Jen sighed, sitting down. Both Harriet and Jason nodded in agreement.

"Petty Officer?"

All three froze.

Jason turned toward the voice of Lieutenant Commander Burford.

Harriet motioned for the two younger officers to keep their seats. She rose stiffly. "Yes Sir?"

"Would you please get me the Richards deposition?" He looked at her moving slowly and realized she was fatigued. "I can have Tiner or Coates get it-"

Harriet smiled tiredly. This was only one folder and they had not moved it to the basement yet. Sturgis' office had been designated a temporary holding room for files until he got back. This would be cinch compared to some of the other runs she had made earlier today. "It's not a problem Sir; I'll be back in a moment."

"Lieutenant!"

Harriet cringed and Jen closed her eyes, her mouth locked in silent prayer.

Harriet straightened her face and turned toward Carly.

"Yes Ma'am?"

"Please get me the Horner file." Though she had added the word 'please', it was not a request. Harriet was beginning to cultivate a healthy dislike for this woman.

"Right away Ma'am," she responded. Thank God that one was also in Sturgis' office.

Jen hissed her disgust, but not so loud that the Major could hear it, but Jason could. He looked over sharply at her, his expression cutting off any other expressions, verbal or otherwise. However, when the Major went back into her office, Jen stuck out her tongue at her.

Unbeknownst to all of them, Admiral Chegwidden had silently watched this and all the other incidents this morning. He usually let his staff handle their own problems, but now morale was being impacted, and he couldn't have that. Burford and Clemons, he harrumphed disgustedly; maybe the SECNAV was testing him. Well, for now he was still head of JAG Corps, and he was going to teach these two a lesson they wouldn't soon forget.

**1322 Local_1022 Zulu  
>Rasheed Air Base<br>Baghdad, Iraq**

**The two Humvees made their way past the security checkpoint** onto the airfield. They skirted several machine shops with Cobras, Hueys, and Sea Stallions all in various stages of repair. Some had suffered significant battle damage. Further on, there were several of the newest AH-1Z Cobras lined up getting ready to take off.

Mac glanced out her windscreen and saw a crudely colored makeshift sign - **2nd Marine Expeditionary Brigade, 36th Marine Air Group **_**Kickin' Butt by Request**_

They passed several more machine shops and bivouac areas before they reached a staging area for the cargo operations of the 36th MEU. On the tarmac sat one of the unit's sea gray CH-53 Sea Stallions. Her blades were turning slowly, beginning to pick up speed.

"There's our ride!" barked Barnett above the roar of the Stallion's engines. "She'll get us to Camp Chesty Puller and Mirbullah!"

On board the Sea Stallion, the pilot and co-pilot were going through their pre-flight checks when they saw the two HMMWVs headed toward them. The pilot, nudged his co-pilot and nodded toward the two approaching vehicles.

"Here come Vince and Floyd with our illustrious guests," noted the pilot. He put on his mirrored sunglasses and got up from his seat, "Took them long enough."

As the Marine Captain made his way back through the cabin he ran headlong into the crew chief who had been heading toward the cockpit.

"Captain!" The crew chief wasn't expecting him to come down into the cabin.

"Lieutenant…I take it you've seen the Humvees…."

"Yes Sir, and it's about damn time-" He noticed the Captain's frown, "Sir-"

The Captain ignored the remark. "Get'em on board as soon as possible, Lieutenant. We've hung around here way too long as it is."

"Aye Sir."

The two Humvees came to halt near the Stallion. The JAG officers and their Marine escorts got out of the quarter ton trucks and ducking down, they ran to the helicopter.

"Glad you made it Sir!" barked the Chief Warrant Officer to Major Barnett above the helicopter's whining turbines. The CWO eyed the four other officers being led by Captain Johnson. "I take it these are the JAG Corps officers we're supposed to take back to the BLT Headquarters…."

Barnett nodded. He watched as the tall Naval Commander wearing aviator wings and the female Marine Light Colonel came up the cargo ramp first, followed by Captain Johnson, the other Naval Commander with a submarine officer's pin and the Naval Lieutenant favoring his artificial leg. Chief Warrant Officer Guzman and Lieutenant Feldman showed them to their seats.

Major Barnett wondered about these four. So these were supposed to be the JAG Corps's best, huh? _We'll see…._ They would probably be trying to keep the peg-leg Lieutenant from falling on his butt most of the time he was out here, surmised Barnett. _He'll definitely need a nursemaid_. The sub guy probably had a lousy sense of direction on land; he'd need one, too. He really couldn't spare anyone, but orders were orders, and these JAG attorneys were to be extended every courtesy - even if it was at his expense.

On the other hand, that Marine Light Colonel could probably keep that jet jockey in line. Despite the fact she was a woman, she had handled herself pretty well back there at the airport and she didn't look like someone you would want to mess with. He wondered how all these different folks became lawyers. He could see how the Lieutenant and the sub guy got here, but he could not figure out how a Top Gun and a lady Marine could become paper pushers. Oh well, not his worry, all he had to do was to deliver them to Colonel Briggs.

As the lawyers made their way down the length of the cabin, they were met by Captain Casey. Harm could not tell his emotions because man's eyes were hidden behind mirrored sunglasses, but from his stance, he could tell the man had something to say to them.

"Commander Rabb?" He began loudly.

Harm looked at the man, trying to place his face. "I don't believe we've met…."

"I'm Captain Don Casey, pilot of this bird, Hatchet oh seven."

Harm smiled earnestly. "Well Captain, thanks for the lift to Mirbullah and Camp Puller."

"Don't mention it…." he paused, seeming to look from Harm to Mac to Sturgis to Bud.

"Something else on your mind Captain?"

"I take it you're here to investigate Lieutenant Dodge's death…."

Mac took this one. "Yes we are Captain, is there something else?"

The Captain took off his glasses and fixed Mac with a piercing stare. "Yes Ma'am, just this; I've known Lieutenant Lukens and Lieutenant Buell since Kosovo and they are damn good soldiers and pilots and I would trust them with my life. They did not kill Lieutenant Dodge, Ma'am." His words cut through the air.

"Now wait a minute-" began Harm taking offense at the Captain's surly tone.

"Hold on Captain-" warned Sturgis. He too, had been taken by surprise by the pilot's comments and it left him angry.

The Captain Casey cut them both off before they could finish. "-We've been out here since last November alternately sweating and freezing our asses off to keep the citizens safe…" He looked directly at Mac again. "…And I won't let some overeager legal eagles from DC ruin their careers over the death of one guy who happened to be the fair haired boy of the brass."

That comment got Mac's blood boiling. "Captain!" barked Mac in her best Marine voice, "Are you accusing me of being prejudiced against Cobra crew!"

Casey was not backing down "You hotshots are all the same! You fly in here, not knowing anything about what's really going on, and you destroy two good Marines' careers and then fly back to your comfy jobs in DC while we're left here to pick up the pieces!"

"Watch yourself Captain!" Harm was beginning to see red.

Sturgis shot the pilot a threatening look. "Captain Casey you are way out of line!"

Mac moved closer to the man, her voice a growl. "Captain I suggest you think carefully about what you have just said to us, or I will have your *ass* up on insubordination and just about any other related charge I can think of!"

"Are you going to ruin my career too, lady!"

"That's enough Captain!" Harm barked. He was ready to take this man apart.

Bud just stood there stunned, looking at the man. He was unable to believe what the pilot had just accused them of.

Major Barnett who had been in the back of the craft, swiftly cut in between Mac and Casey who were now almost nose to nose. He stood facing the pilot. "Captain! I think it might be a good idea for you to get back up front and fly this crate to Mirbullah!"

Casey hesitated.

"Now, Captain! On the double!"

Casey didn't flinch. He slowly put his glasses back on. "I have a chopper to fly." The man turned around and stalked back to the front of the craft. Barnett turned to Mac and the others.

Mac stood rigid with a murderous look in her eyes. She was clenching and unclenching her hands, trying to tamp down her fury. Harm and Sturgis were standing close to her, their faces conveying their disgust and hatred. Bud, who up to now had only registered shock was now dissolving into anger.

"We're all a little strung out right now-" he began lamely.

"Keep that son of bitch out of my way," was all that Mac was able to choke out. Bud, Harm and Sturgis's faces mirrored her sentiment.

Around them, the rest of the aircrew of Hatchet 07 stood shocked into silence by the Captain's furious display and the response of the JAG attorneys.

-TBC…


	6. Chapter 5

…**For Meritorious Service, Chapter V **

**Don Casey fell into his seat** and began to power up the Stallion's engines. His co-pilot, 1st Lieutenant Sal Jankovich, stared at him in shock.

"What?!" snapped Casey, fiddling with the radio transmitter/receiver.

"Never witnessed an officer commit career suicide before."

"You're a riot, you know that?"

"Don, I'm not kidding. That light Colonel back there will eat your lunch, plus she's got a whole planeload of witnesses to back her up – not including her pals."

"The guys know how I feel." He said defensively

"But that doesn't make what you did right or justified, Don. The old man is gonna stomp all over you for this one and I don't want to even want to think what Briggs is going to do you."

"Sal, I'm not backing down. Let's just get these weenies to Mirbullah, okay?"

"Your funeral partner." Sal said grimly.

With a signal from the crew chief, the massive helicopter lifted off from the tarmac and headed southwest.

Mac was still fuming as they strapped in "That ignorant, egotistical son of a – I'm going to nail his ass to the wall!"

"Easy Mac," Harm quirked an eyebrow at her, "You're usually the calm, dispassionate one."

"Guess it's the company I keep, Flyboy." She shot back, her anger still penetrating her usually friendly comment. Harm decided discretion was the better part of valor and let the Marine alone for a while.

"I don't get it," replied Bud, still in shock. "Why did he do it? At that comment Mac, Harm and Sturgis looked at him with momentary annoyance. Realizing his faux pas, he focused his explanation on Harm. "I mean, Sir, he's got to understand, he just flushed whatever chances he had for a career advancement down the tubes."

"I don't know Bud," Harm was still angry but was now becoming puzzled as well. "Maybe he just wants out and this seemed like the perfect way to make a statement."

"Well, he sure picked a dramatic way to end his career." Commented Sturgis. "I wonder if he'll be this vocal at his court martial?"

Mac was ominously silent. Bud and Sturgis had learned to not disturb the Marine when she was pissed off. Especially when it happened so recently. For her part, Mac had begun analyzing the situation, attempting to put her emotions in check. She was trying to figure out for herself what had happened – were there any indicators that the Captain was going to go off like this? Maybe this is a symptom of a larger problem that played into Lieutenant Dodge's death as well. She noticed Major Barnett looking at her.

"I guess you want to give me an explanation about why he just terminated his career." Mac wasn't sure she wanted to listen to his lame excuse. However, maybe she could glean something from it.

"Colonel, I can't tell you why a decorated veteran like Captain Casey just did what he did," began Major Barnett honestly, "What I can tell you is he and most of the HMM-871 feel the same way he does, they just feel their careers are more important."

She still didn't think that was a very good excuse. "There are other ways to express this sentiment, Major."

Major Vince Barnett smiled ruefully. "Agreed; but as I tried to tell you before, we've been living on the edge up here for months. With the sniping and twisted reports from the media, negative news from the citizens about what we're doing, and the Fedayeen and Al-Qaeda pinpricking us to death, something has to give somewhere."

"Are you justifying his actions?" Harm broke in.

"Negative Commander, I can't condone what he did," he paused for a moment, taking a deep breath, "But I can't really condemn him either, sorry."

Mac sat back, trying to absorb what he just said. Harm looked incredulously at the man.

Neither one said a thing. The Major looked back at them. _They just don't understand…but then how could they? They're outsiders looking in_.

Mac had always prided herself on being a Marine's Marine, understanding the unwritten code. They had accepted her in Indonesia, but instead of accepting her now, they looked at her as if she was the enemy. Had she really lost touch? Did she really not understand what they were going through?

_Get a grip MacKenzie_… she told herself, but that nagging little voice, the one that told her how worthless she was, how she deserved everything she got and why didn't she just give in and return to the bottle, was seductively whispering to her.

_Way to go Marine_, it said mockingly_ You sure showed them. No other Marine would have the guts to ruin the lives of real soldiers. But hey, that it doesn't matter to you, now does it? Because you aren't a real soldier_.

No! No, she wasn't going to listen. That voice was trying to con her, make her go back to her old patterns. It was a constant battle to knock down the seemingly plausible arguments it proposed. They were bull and she knew it. Marines need discipline and this guy didn't have it. That argument buoyed her, and for the moment the nagging voice retreated.

Mac looked out the small window beside her and watched the airbase retreat from their view. She wished they could go over ground to Mirbullah, rather than flying in this fluttering crapcan, but it was important that they wrap up the case as soon as possible. That's why Sturgis and Bud were along-to act as extra eyes and ears in the investigation. She turned and looked at Harm who was sitting in his jump seat with his eyes closed. If only she could do that. Flying was not her favorite activity and Harm's airborne activities had only made those feelings more pronounced. She looked back at Bud and Sturgis, both of them likewise had their eyes shut as if that would drown out the incessant whine of the engines. She slowly breathed in and out, willing herself to calm down.

_Man, I hope we land soon__…_. Harm really hated these things. He prayed that this one

had had a recent maintenance check and that it wouldn't have make a hard landing or worse, explode in mid-air. He knew his thoughts were unfounded worry, but his emotional side couldn't help it. He opened his eyes and looked at Mac sitting calmly. She had come a long way since their first flight in his Stearman_. __Look at her; she got it all together…that's why I love her… _He stopped, thinking about what he had just said. _I__ do? Yeah, _He thought, glad that he had finally told her, well actually blurted it out in Paraguay. Even though she had dismissed it as a heat of the moment comment, he noticed that she paid him a little closer attention since then. For his part, he had started an honest assessment about his feelings for one Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie. He looked at Mac again. She looked over at him and smiled._ Yeah, I do love her_.

Mac saw the Crew Chief motioning to her. She knew the man was trying to say something to her, but if talking on board the C-5 had been difficult, it became virtually impossible on the Sea Stallion with the roar of its twin engines and the person being on the other side of the craft.

She leaned over to hear him better. "Say that again Lieutenant?"

2nd Lieutenant Mark Feldman leaned closer to the Marine Lieutenant Colonel.

"I said, I'm sorry about what the Captain said to you. He was wrong, Ma'am."

Mac stared at him for a moment. Maybe she wasn't so out of touch after all. "Thank you Lieutenant." She replied guardedly.

"You're welcome. And Ma'am? If he's smart, he'll apologize when we land. Will you accept it if he does?" He looked at her intently.

She thought about what they had seen in downtown Baghdad. "Taking into account what you men have been through, I think I'm beginning to understand why your Captain did what he did. I think I can do that." She said with soft smile.

Now it was the Crew Chief's turn to smile. "Thank you Ma'am."

**1520 Local_1920 Zulu  
><strong>**JAG Headquarters**

**Jason walked up to Harriet's desk**. She turned at his approach and immediately noticed the pallor of his face. Her heartbeat quickened.

"The Admiral wants to see both of us ASAP, Ma'am." He breathed. The way he said it made Harriet feel like taking the rest of the day off.

"Any idea what it's about?" Harriet asked timidly, dreading his next words.

"No idea Ma'am, he didn't say."

Harriet slowly got out of her chair with Jason's assistance. They both approached Admiral Chegwidden's polished cherry wood door. Tiner rapped on the closed door just below the word 'Private'

"Enter." There was no way to tell his mood from that order.

Jason swallowed, opened the door and stuck his head in.

"Sir? Lieutenant Sims and Petty Officer Tiner reporting, as ordered."

"Come in," Both Harriet and Jason entered his office. "Close the hatch." AJ Chegwidden put down the report he was reading and steepled his hands in front of him on his oak desk. As they both came to attention, the Admiral pulled off his reading glasses and tossed them on the table.

Jason Tiner flinched. He shot a quick look at his commanding officer. "Headache Sir?"

AJ pinched the bridge of his nose for moment and then looked at both of them. Tiner quickly resumed his stoic pose. The Admiral sighed heavily.

"How are Lieutenant Commander Burford and Major Clemons working out so far?"

The question caught them off guard. Harriet was the first to find her voice. "Sir?"

"Did you not hear my question, Lieutenant?" the Admiral growled menacingly, "I said how are the Lieutenant Commander and the Major working out?"

"Well – uhm, Sir…." began Jason weakly

"I heard that Petty Officer Coates has been very adept at serving as referee and gofer for the both of them, and that you two have become very familiar with the basement case files," interrupted AJ. His cold glare made Harriet feel sick to her stomach. She glanced at Jason who looked like he may strain something if he tried to stand any straighter.

She braced for the blast.

"Both Burford and Clemons have been very complimentary of your work – so it looks like you've both passed their test." He stared balefully at them. "The question is why do they need to test you two - have they formed some kind of secret society in my office where you have to take loyalty oaths? And why is Coates acting a referee between them? Is there something going on I need to know about?"

Both officers stood perfectly still.

"Well?" An edge crept into his voice as he glared at both of them.

"Uh, Sir…Admiral, we are just trying-"

"Just trying to do what, Tiner?" The man fell silent. AJ shot an aggravated look at Harriet. "Lieutenant, maybe you can do a better job explaining to me what's going on."

"It seems Sir, that there are some unresolved issues between the Lieutenant Commander and the Major. We were just trying to smooth over the rough spots. They're working very hard preparing for their first case tomorrow afternoon."

'_Just what we need around here, two more officers with 'unresolved issues' _AJ swore silently. "What kind of issues? Smooth over what rough spots? Lieutenant, you're supposed to be working limited duty during your final months, and dammit, I don't want to see you getting one more thing for either one of them. Is that understood?"

"Aye Sir!" responded Harriet, secretly glad he felt this way. She made sure the Admiral did not see her joy.

"Tiner!" Jason quickly made eye contact with the Admiral. "Effectively immediately, Mr. Burford and Major Clemons will get their own files. You will go back to assisting Commanders Mattoni and Imes and you *will not* deviate from that job. Are we clear on this?"

"Yes Sir!" He responded crisply.

"Good, because I would hate for them to get worn out getting their own files." His words, laced with sarcasm, were not lost on the two junior staff members.

"Aye, aye, sir!" Their eyes did not dare meet the Admiral's

"I trust we won't have to have this conversation again?"

"No Sir!" The two replied in unison

"Good!" He softened his voice "Dismissed."

"Aye, aye, sir!" Both did an about face and headed for the door. AJ picked up his reading glasses and the report he was reading before they came in.

Harriet left first. As Jason started to close the door behind him, AJ spoke in low deadly tones. "Oh and Tiner, please send in Petty Officer Coates so I can personally compliment her on her interpersonal skills."

Jason hesitated for the briefest of moments.

"Now Tiner!" barked AJ.

"Aye Sir!" He quickly left the room. AJ was building up a head of steam and he was sure Coates would add to his anger and then he was going to blow it out on those two wayward officers. Why did he feel a sense of déjà vu about doing this?

**1452 Local_1152 Zulu  
><strong>**36****th**** ACE Airfield, Camp Chesty Puller  
><strong>**Near Mirbullah, Iraq**

**Hatchet 07 fired off its flares** as the helicopter approached the airfield. Making graceful arcs as they left the underside of craft, the flares drifted down to the desert floor below. The big transport thundered by the makeshift control tower and settled down to land near the other transport helicopters of the 36th MEU.

Captain Casey and Lieutenant Jankovich, satisfied with their landing, began powering down the Stallion's engines. The co-pilot looked over sternly at the Captain.

"Ok Sal, ok," grumbled the Captain, throwing up his hands. "You win; I'll go say something to the JAG Colonel."

Sal smiled wryly at the man. "That would be the first smart move you've made since we deployed here, Don."

"Funny, Sal."

The co-pilot looked at him soberly. "Seriously Don, you'd better hope the lady JAG attorney is in a forgiving mood."

"Yeah." Don Casey got up and began walking to the back of the transport.

**xxvxx**

**Mac was the first** **to unfasten herself** once they were down on the ground. Before Harm, Sturgis or Bud could say or do anything, she was out of her seat and heading toward the cockpit. The three JAG Corps attorneys looked at each other.

"We'd better go after her," said Harm getting up and looking toward the front of the transport.

**xxvxx**

**Don stopped as soon** **as he saw** Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie making her way toward him.

"Colonel."

Mac stopped and regarded him coolly, "Captain."

The crew stopped what they were doing and watched the two officers. "Uh Colonel," began Don, "I was out of line-"

Mac cut him off. "Captain, as far as I am concerned, it never happened. Although if I were you, I would not be so quick to judge." Her tone was firm – he caught her off guard last time, that wouldn't happen again. She fixed him with a hard stare. In the background Harm and the others stood silently watching the exchange.

Don returned the stare. "I was out of line with my comments about you and the other JAG Corps lawyers, Ma'am, and I regret saying them," Mac's expression started to soften, "But I stand by what I said earlier about Lieutenants Lukens and Buell; they did not kill…Lieutenant Dodge." He folded his arms across his chest. Mac's hard stare returned.

"Captain, do you have any proof that these two men didn't kill him?" She didn't move. Muffled noises from the outside world filtered into the dusty transport. Neither one paid attention to them.

Captain Casey didn't flinch. His mouth was a thin straight line. "No Ma'am."

"Then why should I believe you?" That comment made his eyes falter slightly. While he pondered her question, she bored in for the kill. "What proof do you have to back up your claim? Any witnesses? Any documents? Any corroborating expert testimony? Captain, do you have a single, solitary shred of evidence that can prove their innocence?"

She had landed some solid hits and could tell the man had been rocked.

He looked at her for a long moment. "Ma'am, all I can tell you is…about my past experience with them. They never did…or said anything that would lead me to believe they could commit murder."

"You're certain of this?"

"They did not do this Ma'am. I don't have a shred of evidence or any eyewitnesses, but I know, as does most everyone else in the 36th, that they didn't do it. I'd swear my life on it." To his credit, the pilot did not give in to her assaults.

Mac let a wry smile appear. "All right Captain, let's assume you're correct. How would we go about proving this claim?"

"Conduct a thorough investigation."

"That Captain is exactly what my partners and I intend to do." And with that, Sarah MacKenzie spun on her heel and walked away from the stunned pilot. He looked at her, trying to figure out what had just happened.

"Colonel!" He called out after her.

The three male JAG attorneys flinched. Mac stopped; her jaw taut.

"Thank you."

She turned back toward him, smiling. "You're welcome Captain." Her smile faded replaced by a drill sergeant façade, her voice even. "But a word of advice. Don't *ever* insult a superior officer again, because if you do, I promise you, you will have flown your last mission for the 36th, or any other unit, period."

Don straightened. "Understood Ma'am."

"Carry on, Captain."

"Aye, aye, ma'am!" Mac turned and walked past the gathered males.

As she breezed past Harm, he looked at Sturgis. For his part the bubblehead shrugged his shoulders at her change of heart. One minute she was going to practically castrate the man, and then she left him at loss for words as she promised to thoroughly investigate this murder. And when Casey was dumb enough to call her like a kid calling his dog, she gave him a veiled warning not to push his luck. The man was incredibly lucky.

Harm still wanted to have a piece of him, but he didn't want a certain Marine chewing his six for 'a macho display' as she would call it. He sighed and shook his head. The three of them with Mac in the lead, headed for the cargo ramp with Captain Johnson and Major Barnett in tow.

As they exited the Stallion, Johnson leaned over to Barnett and whispered. "That is some lady Marine, Sir. That's the first time Casey has willingly obeyed an officer since we got here."

Barnett nodded in agreement. "She has command presence, Johnson."

**1707 Local_2107 Zulu  
><strong>**JAG Headquarters**

**Everyone out in bullpen gathered** outside his door. They could hear Admiral Albert Jethro Chegwidden's voice cut through the air, causing some of them to draw back. Moments before, Lieutenant Commander John Burford and Major Carly Clemons had been summoned to his office. Despite the thick wooden door, the Admiral's voice could clearly be heard.

"Major! You have about two minutes to explain to me what the hell is going out there or so help me I'm going to bring you up on abuse, dereliction of duty and any other charges I can think up!"

Inside, AJ's blast had almost knocked Major Clemons back into her seat. Commander Burford kept his eyes straight ahead, but Carly dared to look him in the eye and challenge him. "Sir how can you bring me up on a DDO? I haven't-"

He savagely cut her off. "In the past three hours Major, you have had Lieutenant Sims and Petty Officers Tiner and Coates retrieve approximately thirty case files and related records for you. Is there something wrong with your feet Major? Some defect I was unaware of?" He looked angrily at John. "What about you Commander? Do you have a problem with your feet?"

"No Sir!" barked John in reply.

Carly was taken aback by that. She tried to match his quick response. "Uh, No Sir-"

He turned savagely on her. "Then perhaps you have a back problem?"

She had been caught. There was nothing else to do but accept his punishment. "No Sir; I am sorry Sir, I should have retrieved those files myself-"

"You're damned right you should have! I don't mind you requesting help from Lieutenant Sims, but don't you think it's a little cruel and maybe even dangerous to have her doing all that work when she's eight months pregnant?!"

She was genuinely contrite now. "Yes Sir, I am sorry Sir-"

That infuriated the Admiral even more. "Sorry?! Sorry my ass! You think all can be forgiven about your little escapade today just by saying one little 'you're sorry'!? Well Major, I have news for you—she can sue your sorry butt if she so desires and right now I don't think that is such a-"

"Sir…." John immediately wished he'd kept his mouth shut.

"Don't interrupt me Mr. Burford, when I'm ripping the Major another air hole – you're next! You both can speak freely after I'm finished!"

"Aye Sir!" John didn't dare make eye contact with the Admiral. No telling what he would do if the Lieutenant Commander was dim-witted enough to try this.

Outside the Admiral's office, Jason, Harriet and the others listened to the Judge Advocate General as he barked at 'Carly' for another few minutes.

**xxvxx**

"**All right Major,** now do you have anything to say to me regarding your actions with Lieutenant Sims?"

Carly was visibly shaken by his tirade, "Uh Sir, I uh-"

At that moment, Jason Tiner stuck his head in the door.

"What is it?!" The Admiral was clearly exasperated by this interruption.

"It's Commanders Mattoni and Imes, Sir, they need to speak with you-"

"Tell them to take a number! What the hell is happening to this place?! Have all of you taken stupid pills or something?!"

"Sorry sir." The Petty Officer retreated and closed the door.

He turned his heated glare back at the woman. "Now Major, should we pick up where we left off?"

Carly was now ramrod straight. "Yes sir."

"Good, I'm glad my reaming has finally gotten to you."

He looked over at Burford. "You're dismissed Mr. Burford, I have some things I need to discuss with the Major. However, I want you back here in twenty. Do you read me, mister?"

John snapped to attention, "Aye Sir," did an about face and headed to the door. AJ waited until door closed and then he looked at the Major. He could see her eyes were bright with tears she was trying to fight off.

"Suck it up Major," he said brusquely. He had heard about her toying with Harriet, now he hoped he could make her understand the consequences of this. "You don't have any reason to cry…yet."

Carly sniffed, swallowing the hot tears threatening to spill down her face. She looked at AJ studying her. He got up from his chair and walked over to the fireplace.

"Major, I usually try to cut my new people some slack," he began in a friendly tone, looking thoughtfully at her. "However, you make it exceedingly difficult for people to like you."

She wondered what he meant, but she didn't dare say anything.

"You see, you remind me of someone I knew who also showed a lot of promise…."

Carly dared to look at the older man. He had a melancholy look in his eyes.

"I let her slide because she was a good lawyer and a damn good tactician. I kept thinking she would come around, so I didn't press her about it." He looked directly at her. "She had the same behavior patterns as you, Major, and she ended up dead."

Carly opened her mouth and then closed it again - unsure of what to say to this. After all, it could just be another scare tactic. She had other officers try this on her. They all knew what was best for her. _What a load of crap…_. This new commander could rattle her with his yelling that's for sure, but that old SEAL better forget trying to 'reform' her.

"Lieutenant Loren Singer's fatal flaw was that she toyed with a desperate man." The sadness in his voice was replaced by a coldness that shocked her. "And I can guarantee you Major Clemons; you'll eventually do the same thing. You are the only one that can stop that pattern of self-destruction."

Carly Clemons had heard about Loren Singer and what had happened to her. It was not a pretty way to go. She looked down at her feet, letting his words sink in.

"Sir?" she began tentatively "I just-"

"You just what? Well, Major, out with it. I haven't got all day." His voice had turned hard and unfeeling again. AJ just knew she was blowing off what he had said, and his anger was returning. _I tried to give her a hint, now she has to live with the consequences…_.

"…What she's trying to say, Sir, is that she understands." Admiral Chegwidden and Carly turned toward the open door.

"Commander Imes?! You'd better have a hell of reason for barging in like this-"

"Yes Sir, we do Sir." Imes was followed by Commander Mattoni. "The Commander and I-"

"Great now you're bringing in Mattoni!" snapped Chegwidden, "Why don't we also bring in Tiner, Sims and Coates, call it a day and we'll have a goddamn party right here in my office!"

**1522 Local_1222 Zulu  
><strong>**36****th**** ACE Airfield, Camp Chesty Puller  
><strong>**Near Mirbullah, Iraq**

**Bud was the first to come out** of the airfield barracks. He remembered looking in the mirror at his chocolate chip desert BDUs and the subdued insignia on the lapels of his shirt. This time, he wasn't in Afghanistan and this time he had a metal and fiberglass leg. It brought back memories he'd had rather not relive. It took all of his concentration to walk down the steps outside with as little a limp as possible.

He could do this. Little AJ told him he could. It seemed silly at the time, but as he knew from talking to Harm that kids know more than they let their parents know.

**xx_begin flashback_xx**

_Bud?_

_Yeah Harriet?_

_There's someone who wants to see you…_

_Daddy?_

_Hey AJ, come here buddy…_

_Where are ya goin'?_

_To the Middle East_

_Middle Eas'? Why?_

_To help some soldiers._

_Are dey in tr'uble?_

_Yes they are._

_Did dey do sometin' bad?_

_Some people think so, buddy_

_Do you?_

_No, big guy, I don't._

_Ya gonna defend'em?_

_Yep, I sure am._

_Be careful Daddy._

_I will son._

_You can do dis._

_I know, thanks buddy._

**xx_end flashback_xx**

"**Hey Bud…."**

Bud Roberts turned to see Harmon Rabb walking down the steps followed by Mac and Sturgis. All three were dressed like Bud, in camouflaged BDU's and boonie hats.

"Leaving without us?"

"No Sir; just wanted to take a look around."

"Sounds like a good idea Bud, let's take a look around."

The JAG Corps officers walked over to a large prefabricated building that was serving as a hangar. On the taxiway in front of the hangar doors sat two AH-1W Cobra gunships.

The first gunship had all of its access ports open as the ground crew swarmed over it like hungry bees after a flower. In the middle of this group was an officer futilely trying to direct them.

"No, no, no! Move it this way, yeah more to the right…" A loud metallic pop made everyone quickly move away from the officer.

"Watch it!" The wrench he had been using sailed out of the group and landed with a clatter on the ground.

"Son of a-"

He saw Harm, and the others approaching.

"ATTENTION ON DECK!"

Everyone around the Cobra snapped to attention.

"As you were," replied the Commander. "I'm looking for Lieutenant Maxwell."

"You've found him, Sir." The young helicopter pilot came forward as the other men went back to work. "Lieutenant Steve Maxwell, acting commander of Echo platoon, of Helicopter, Marine, Light Attack nine seven five." Mac looked over and noticed the graffiti on his gunship – The Blue Max.

"Acting commander?" asked Sturgis, looking at the man. "Where is your Captain?"

"Sick call Sir," he explained. "Pneumonia."

"Pneumonia?" Bud was intrigued by this idea and not quite believing the man. "In the desert?"

Steve Maxwell nodded, understanding Bud's disbelief. "I wouldn't have believed it either Lieutenant, until I came here. Something about the nearby marshes…"

"Sorry to hear about his condition." Bud said honestly.

The Blue Max's pilot smiled at the Navy man's concern. "Oh, he'll be okay Sir; he just has to take it easy for a couple of weeks." He turned to Harm, dropping his pretense of friendliness. "Pardon my asking Sir, but are you going anywhere with this? I've got a sick bird here to get ready for dust off at 1630." It was obvious he was going to be all business about this. He evidently did not want to waste his time with the 'legal weenies.'

Now it was Harm's turn to smile. "Sorry Lieutenant. I'm Commander Harmon Rabb; this is Commander Sturgis Turner, Lieutenant Colonel Sarah McKenzie, and Lieutenant Bud Roberts. We're from the JAG Corps."

The man nodded, apparently impatient to get this over with. "Yes Sir, the Captain told me to expect a visit from you. You're going to be investigating Lieutenant Dodge's murder. What did you want to ask?"

Harm went into investigator mode. "What do you know about what happened?"

The answer was very crisp and to the point. "Just what they told me. Lieutenant Haswell and I were flying cover on another part of the battlefield. By the time we arrived, the Lieutenant was dead and Lukens and Buell were in custody."

(Too much like he's reading from a script)_,_ thought Harm. But then it had been weeks since the crew of Firefly One was arrested.

Sturgis took his cue from the man's bland report. "This is fine machine Lieutenant," he said walking over to the Cobra. "Can you tell me a little bit about her?"

His change in tactics caught Maxwell off guard. The man quickly recovered. A proud smile spread across his face. _What the hell, this squid had probably never seen one of these babies up close before_. "Sure. You're looking at a Bell Textron AH-1W "Whiskey" Supercobra. She's powered by two General Electric T700-401 engines, her cruising speed is 170 miles per hour and her ceiling is about 18,000 feet. She's one fine bird, Sir."

Harm took the line of questioning from there. "I guess you're pretty heavily armed…."

The Lieutenant was more than happy to let them know just how he was armed. This was more the kind of questioning he was willing to answer. "Right now we're involved in anti-guerilla operations to the north of Mirbullah. Mainly taking out convoys, pillboxes, fortified positions and the like. So two LAU-7 seven shot and two LAU-61 nineteen shot Hydra rocket launchers with one rack of TOW or one rack of Hellfire missiles for the hardened stuff we might run into."

"How were you armed on 23 March, Lieutenant?" Harm and Sturgis were a bit surprised by Mac in that she was usually a little more subtle in her questioning. She didn't try to use feminine wiles to charm the man. She just asked her question point blank.

Steve Maxwell didn't seem to care. He was too busy enjoying the attention. Especially that of a female Marine. "Loaded for bear Ma'am. Four AGM-114 Hellfire fire and forget missiles, two LAU-61 nineteen shot Hydra 70 2.75mm rocket launchers and four tube BGM-71 TOW launchers."

That 'enjoying the attention' was what Mac had counted on. Smiling, she stroked his swollen ego some more. "They didn't stand much of chance, did they?"

Maxwell smirked. "No Ma'am. We pretty much blasted to smithereens any of Saddam's boys that tried to get in our way."

"Outstanding Marine." Her voice full of admiration. Maxwell beamed a thousand watt smile at her, showing all his pearly whites.

"Thank you Colonel."

Harm just watched with satisfaction as she reeled him in.

"I take it all of you were armed with the same weapons?" She ran her hand lovingly along the side of the gunship.

"Well, not all of us Ma'am."

"Oh?" Mac acted captivated.

"No Ma'am, we have eight gunships total, two of them were armed with Stinger missiles in case we ran into any enemy helicopters."

"I see, and Lukens' ship was armed this way?"

"Oh no Ma'am," she quirked an eyebrow at him. "Lieutenant Colson flew close combat air patrol while Lukens flew close combat air support. Lukens was armed with the same weapons I had."

"And he did a lot of damage?"

"Plenty Ma'am. If it hadn't been for him and Dodge, Alpha company would have been history."

"That's impressive Marine," again Maxwell began smiling, "But why Blue Max?" she said running her hand across the nickname on the side of the Cobra.

He blushed. "Well Ma'am, I'm a bit of a daredevil; pulled a few crazy stunts in my time to save my buddies and the grunts. You have to be a risk taker to stick your neck out when someone is in trouble. The guys named me Blue Max because of my 'stunts' and because of the blue scarf I wear." Mac looked quizzically at him. "It's a gift from my Mom." He replied sheepishly.

"Well no one will begrudge you that, Lieutenant." Mac said. He smiled again.

"Just one more thing, how many gunships is your unit flying right now?"

He answered honestly. "We're down one – Lieutenant Lukens' bird Ma'am." He looked at the other JAG Corps officers

"Until they release the Lieutenant or get us a replacement for him and his ship."

She smiled nodding her understanding. "You'll let us know if you remember anything else?"

"Absolutely Ma'am; good luck with your investigation."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Carry on." They walked back toward the barracks.

As soon as they were out of earshot of the man, Bud looked at the Colonel. "So we learned that he's the Blue Max and that he's down one gunship."

Mac smiled slyly. "We also learned the name of Lukens' wingman that day Bud."

The light bulb went on in his head. "Which means we might have another witness to the incident."

Mac nodded at Bud's understanding. "Exactly, plus they haven't supplied a replacement gunship yet."

"Which means the gunship involved is still somewhere around here," Sturgis grinned. "Colonel I'm impressed."

"He just wanted a willing audience to listen to him, Sturgis. I just provided him with one."

"A willing *female* audience, Mac." Harm emphasized a little too strongly.

"Well, I could see that you're 'the truth and nothing but the truth' approach wasn't going to work, so I followed Sturgis' lead." She was baiting him.

It worked. "Uh huh," harrumphed the Commander. "I see. That was *some* follow up."

"Jealous Commander?" said Mac playfully.

Harm smiled wryly at her, "Not in the least, Colonel." She smirked at his obvious cover-up. "Come on let's go find the Commander of the 36th MEU."

The four walked off in the direction of the sign that pointed to the 36th's BLT Headquarters.

**-TBC…**


	7. Chapter 6

…**For Meritorious Service, Chapter VI**

**1645 Local_1345 Zulu  
><strong>**BLT Headquarters, Camp Chesty Puller  
><strong>**Near Mirbullah, Iraq**

**Colonel Ashton R. Briggs sat in his makeshift office** at an OD green reinforced table reading after action reports. His gray crew cut, which was longer than what most Marines wore, was tinged with white. Despite the white hairs and haggard look, woe to the man who doubted Briggs wasn't in control of his unit. Any man in the MEU that didn't believe that would spend the next four deployments on latrine duty.

Right now, his special operations capable units were playing the same game they had been playing since they arrived here in March. Hide and go seek with Iraqi Baath loyalists and fundamentalist Fedayeen. If it weren't for this mess with Dodge, they would have been redeployed halfway across the world by now instead of being stuck here. At least that's what Briggs thought.

He hoped AJ would help him out of this muddle. The JAG lawyers from the NLSO -Bahrain had been total screw-ups and had only added to his problems. AJ owed him and now it was time to pay up. He wanted to get his people out of here before they rotted away completely. He looked up to see Major Vince Barnett approaching with Captain Johnson and the four JAG Corps lawyers from Washington, DC.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing. _Four of them?! Thanks a whole hell of a lot AJ_! Irritated, he put down his papers. "Major."

MEB Staff Judge Advocate Barnett saluted. "Commanders Rabb and Turner, Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie and Lieutenant Roberts from the JAG Corps Headquarters, Sir."

The JAG officers came to attention in front of the bird Colonel.

Briggs rubbed his stubble covered face-he had wanted to present a professional image-he wished he had shaved before they had arrived _…too late now_. This factor only served to stoke his anger.

"I asked Admiral Chegwidden for a discrete investigation of this matter," growled the Colonel glowering at the four lawyers. "Not a goddamned circus troupe." He scowled at his two legal men. "You two are dismissed…but wait outside."

Barnett and Johnson shied away at his snide dismissal. They knew better to stay around and antagonize the commanding officer. They wanted to be anywhere but here. Ashton Briggs did not tolerate foolishness of any sort and to him, using four JAG lawyers to investigate a murder must've seemed pretty foolish.

"With all due respect Sir, the Admiral does understand the delicacy of this situation," replied Mac, carefully studying the man. "That is why he sent the four of us to work on this JAGMan investigation."

"Don't you think sending four JAG lawyers is just a bit of overkill Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie?" Briggs' tone indicated his disgust with the situation. It was clear he didn't think much of the Admiral Chegwidden's solution.

"Begging the Colonel's pardon, Sir," interjected Harm, "but the Admiral sent the four of us so that we can get this done as quickly as possible."

"Why only four, why not eight?" snorted Briggs, "Then you could get it done even faster." The Colonel's cutting remark was not lost on Harm. The Commander's face became impassive.

Briggs, seeing the look on Harm's face, decided to try a different tactic. "Look, Commander," He said in a friendly tone, "Right now I have two men in the brig who claim they didn't kill Lieutenant Dodge. Yet, they are the only ones that can be tied directly to what has happened. What if it is murder? What are you going to do then?" posed Briggs.

Harm's surprise which rapidly degenerated into disgust with that comment showed on his face. "Colonel, if it is determined that a murder has taken place and that the helicopter crew did it, they will need counsel. Do you have anyone in the MEU that can provide unbiased competent counsel to these men?"

Despite his rank, Briggs looked a little uneasy at that comment. "No."

"I see. Do you have anyone that can capably argue the case for the government?"

He sighed. Damn this sailor-lawyer. "No."

"That is why Admiral Chegwidden sent us. We'll get our investigation done quickly, I promise you that. We can also provide the counsel necessary if this goes to trial."

Briggs still didn't look completely convinced.

"We will be discrete Sir." added Sturgis hoping to win over the MEU commander.

But Harm didn't want to win him over anymore. "And Sir, we *will* find out what happened and who was responsible. Whoever it is." The Commander's statement combined with his piercing stare made it obvious that he thought the Colonel might be involved.

Mac, Sturgis and Bud started a little at Harm's comment. He had just driven a Mack truck across the protocol line, almost accusing the MEU commander of being involved.

They waited for the inevitable response.

Which didn't happen. Briggs was really not fazed by JAG Officer's anger. He decided to ignore Harm's obvious breach of protocol. "Commander, what happens after you find out what has happened?"

Harm was a little surprised by his reaction or more accurately, the lack thereof, but he did not let Briggs see that. "Then we have orders to report our findings to Brigadier General Thornton and begin preparations for a hearing to determine if there should be a general court martial, Sir."

Briggs sat back in his chair and studied the four officers for a moment. "What if I ask you to report your findings to me first?" His tone indicated this was what he wanted.

"For what reason?" Asked Harm, knowing full well the answer he was going to get.

"I'd like to handle this within my own command. There's no reason to bring in anyone else. We can take care of our own," he shot the lawyers a smug look, "We always have and we haven't had any problems."

"Until now." Harm added sarcastically. Briggs did not respond. He merely sat looking at the four JAG busybodies.

Harm couldn't believe what the Colonel was saying. An officer in his own unit had been murdered and Colonel Briggs was asking them to throw the UMCJ out the window.

"We can't do that Sir," said Mac "That would be viewed as obstruction at the very least. We've been told to report our findings directly to General Thornton." Mac looked sternly at the man. She also could not believe what he was asking. Part of her understood his motive for asking, but he should have known better than to broach this. Bud and Sturgis' expressions hardened, mirroring those of Harm and Mac.

Impasse. Colonel Briggs stared for a long moment at the four unflinching JAG officers.

"Fine," he relented wearily, dropping his mask of arrogance. He tapped his intercom key. "Major, Captain, get in here." The two division legal officers re-entered the office. "Major Barnett, furnish them with a list of the witnesses we have compiled so far."

Barnett looked at his commanding officer and then at the JAG attorneys. "Sir, I thought we were going to handle this ourselves." The disdain was obvious in his voice.

"There's been a change in plans, Major." He looked from Barnett back to the JAGs. "Do as I have requested." The man hesitated, causing Briggs to look sternly at him. "Now, Major."

Barnett shot the JAG attorneys a dirty look. "Aye, aye, sir."

Briggs decided for the time being not to call the Major on his comment. He turned his attention to the Captain. "Johnson, make sure all commissioned and noncommissioned officers cooperate fully with the JAG lawyers."

Johnson looked briefly at Briggs and then at them. His glare made his feelings known even if he couldn't object. "Aye Sir."

Harm knew they had just stepped off onto a thin ice ledge. It was best to tread lightly from here on in.

Mac also knew they couldn't push too much, but there was one group the Colonel had left out of this discussion and she wanted to be sure that they heard all points of view on this one. The hostile reactions of Johnson and Barnett made her doubly sure she wanted this.

"Colonel, we'd also like to interview all of the enlisted personnel we feel might be able to shed light on this incident."

Briggs's legal liaisons stopped in mid-stride at her request. They both looked to their commanding officer. For his part, the Colonel did not even address her. He only looked at Harm.

"Do you feel this is necessary?" was all he asked. Mac felt the color rising in her cheeks as she fought to control her temper. Now was neither the time nor the place for a confrontation with this man. Things were already strained enough as it was.

Harm again locked eyes with Briggs. "Whether I think it is important is immaterial, Sir. You need to address Colonel MacKenzie, not me." With that, he looked at Mac and then back at Briggs.

Colonel Briggs smiled sarcastically. "I'm sorry." He turned to Mac; the condescension in his question was palpable. "Colonel, do you really feel this is necessary? I think all you'll get is a lot of hearsay."

Mac's tone was firm. "I think we'll be able to separate the hearsay from true eyewitness accounts, Sir."

"That's a lot of people to talk to and you don't have a lot of time," he countered. "What is it you JAGs say? I remember now; unless you get to witnesses in less than 48 hours…" He trailed off giving them a grim smile. "Well Colonel, more than 48 hours has passed since this incident. I doubt you will find many credible witnesses out there."

Bird Colonel or no Bird Colonel, she wasn't going to let herself be intimidated by this man. "Yes Sir, we know. That's why Admiral Chegwidden sent *four* of us. To quickly find all credible witnesses whoever they may be."

Again Colonel Briggs sighed in resignation. He wasn't going to win this argument either. "Fine. Do what you have to." He got up and walked toward the back of his office where he had his sleeping quarters walled off by temporary wall. "The Major and the Captain will provide you with any assistance needed. Dismissed."

The JAG Corps officers snapped to attention, then walked past a sullen Barnett and Johnson and left the portable building.

They walked out into the warm evening air and started to make their way back across the compound to their barracks. Harm was moving fast, and Mac rushed to catch up with him.

"Harm?"

The Commander was still aggravated. "What is it Mac?" He snapped, and then he immediately realized he had channeled his anger to her. "Sorry Mac, he just got under my skin."

"So I noticed," she shot back angry and hurt. "But you're damned lucky he didn't chew your head off for you suggesting he might be involved."

He knew she was right but something else bothered him. "The man is hiding something, Mac."

She looked at him, exasperated. "That may be, but right now, let's concentrate on the murder case, okay?"

"Mac, this may be part of it."

"Harm you just don't like the way he treated us-"

"Maybe, but he's also hiding something – he doesn't want us reporting to Thornton right away."

"He's a Marine, he just rather take care of it within his own unit."

"And you know he *can't* do that Mac."

"True, but we need to concentrate on investigating the murder first and verifying Dodge's actions…"

As Harm and Mac continued to argue, Bud exchanged looks with Sturgis as they walked behind them. "You look like you have something to say, Lieutenant."

"He's not very friendly Sir," replied Bud under his breath, not listening to the arguing senior officers. "I was expecting more cooperation since it was his request that got us here in the first place."

The former submarine officer put on his boonie hat as they continued walking. "He's under a lot of pressure, Bud. A murder investigation involving his officers is the last thing a commander wants, especially during a black op. It would signal the end of his career."

**1907 Local_2307 Zulu  
><strong>**JAG Headquarters  
><strong>**Falls Church, Virginia**

"**Have you heard from Lieutenant Roberts, Ma'am?"** Jennifer asked hopefully. She had noticed that Harriet's email was open.

"Yes; Bud said they arrived safely," Harriet replied absently, reading the rest of her husband's message. He had used one of the message kiosks at Baghdad International and later one at the Al-Rasheed Air Base.

"I heard on the news there was another ambush in Baghdad today…" Jen let her words drift in the air, hoping that Harriet had good news.

"Everyone's fine, Jen." Harriet turned to see that Jennifer Coates was visibly relieved. "I'm worried too, but Bud said they're okay, though he can't say much else."

Jen looked away, embarrassed. "I know Ma'am, I'm sorry…."

"Don't be," said Harriet with genuine warmth. "I know you're worried about them and I know about your concerns for Bud."

"Ma'am?" responded Coates in a stricken tone.

"Don't worry Jen," the naval Lieutenant said in a reassuring tone. "Bud told me all about the close quarters on the _Seahawk_ and I remember how it was."

"Ma'am, I assure you, nothing happened." Jennifer said evasively.

Harriet nodded understandingly. "I know it didn't, Jen, but I would have been surprised if Bud hadn't noticed you."

Jennifer Coates, used to people accusing her first and looking for the real culprit later, was unsure how to respond to that one, but Harriet's warm smile put her at ease.

"All of you are like family to me Ma'am, more so than my real family. You've all been so kind to me…you and Lieutenant Roberts, Commander Rabb, Colonel MacKenzie…I just would hate to lose any one of you."

Harriet was touched. She remembered when Jennifer Coates had given them, particularly the Commander, so much grief not that many Christmases ago. Now she was a dedicated member of the JAG Corps Ops support staff. Harriet embraced the young petty officer, taking her by surprise.

"God is watching over them Jen," she whispered, her eyes bright with tears. "They will be back, you can bank on that."

Jen found herself crying too.

They both pulled away, chuckling and wiping at each other's tears.

**2142 Local_1842 Zulu  
><strong>**Camp Chesty Puller  
><strong>**Near Mirbullah, Iraq**

**Harm was sitting looking over the after action reports** that Johnson and Barnett had left on his bunk. There was a knock at the barracks door.

"Enter." Harm said as he put the first report down and picked up another.

"Hey, did you find anything useful?"

He smiled briefly at Mac before looking back down at the report. He handed her a folder.

"Take a look…."

Mac walked over and took the open folder. "That wasn't much help," she said as she handed it back to him after a few minutes.

"Yeah, they all pretty much say what we thought they would. Like everyone we've met so far, they fall into two categories: either an undying supporter of these guys or ready to burn them at the stake-"

"Burn them at the stake?" She quirked an eyebrow at him.

He smiled sheepishly looking into her questioning brown eyes, "Metaphorically speaking."

She smiled at him. "I didn't know you were so literary."

He shook his head, chuckling. "I have my moments; besides, you never asked."

She sat down on the chair next to his bed. "Okay Commander Metaphor," her tone indicated her playfulness. "So what do we do now to keep these warlocks—oh sorry—these men, from being 'torched'?"

"Ha, ha, MacKenzie," he said mirthlessly. "Very funny, you ought to take that on the road."

She chuckled, smiling at his embarrassment. "Well you started this with that 'burning them at the stake' comment." Her smile faded when she looked at another negative report. "Seriously Harm, how should we tackle this?"

Harm looked at her in profound shock. This was certainly unexpected. Colonel MacKenzie actually wanting to work with someone rather than try to take over an investigation? He thought about teasing her with a pod people comment, but thought better of it. He didn't want to ruin this. _Okay, MacKenzie, I can dance this tango…_

He took her hand in his and looked into her eyes, "What do you think we ought to do?"

Mac sat back. _Whoa, this is definitely new territory for us. I'd better get this back on an even keel before we have an x-rated Hallmark moment_. "Let's not try to out-nice each other here, Harm. What do you say to interviewing Lukens and Buell first, and then go from there?"

Harm pulled back as well. Now was not the time for this dance, but it sure was fun seeing her reaction. "Okay, as long as we can get a copy of the previous team's preliminary report. We don't want to make the same mistakes they made."

**2137 Local_0137 Zulu  
><strong>**Alan Mattoni's apartment, ****Visiting Officer Quarters  
><strong>**Falls Church, Virginia**

**Alan had just settled down for the evening**, having finished his frozen dinner. He settled into his easy chair, reaching into his briefcase sitting beside him. The Commander pulled out his case file.

He smiled ruefully in remembrance of this afternoon. It took Carolyn the rest of the afternoon, but she convinced the Admiral that Carly could be rehabilitated. Alan had added his own arguments which finally convinced Chegwidden. Truth be known, Alan thought it was going to be much tougher to convince him.

He and Carolyn made a pretty good team and with Jason's and Harriet's support, Carolyn was put in charge of Carly. It was Alan's job to be John's mentor. AJ had had his fill of these two. He was not a fan of the three strikes rule. So they wouldn't get another chance.

"I'll just hit a few of the high points before I call it a night," Alan said to himself, picking up a marking pen that was sitting on his chair's armrest. He uncapped it and began marking key points he wanted to be sure and hit at tomorrow's hearing.

He worked for about thirty minutes according to the wall clock when he heard a knock at the door.

Reluctantly he stopped what he was doing. "Just a minute." He put down his pen and papers got up and walked to the door.

"Who is it?"

"Delivery from the House of Fu."

_I didn't order any takeout…wait a minute that voice, it couldn't be…_, he yanked open the door to see his wife standing in his doorway dressed in a dark green silk oriental shirt and slacks.

Jacquelyn Mattoni's eyes shone brightly, "Did someone here order take-out?"

Alan grabbed her in a crushing hug "God, I've missed you," he whispered into her hair.

**2145 Local_0145 Zulu  
><strong>**Carolyn Imes's apartment, ****Visiting Officer Quarters  
><strong>**Falls Church, Virginia**

**Carolyn had just gotten out of the shower**. She had a towel tied around her body and she was running another through her strawberry blond hair when her cell phone began ringing.

"Imes," she sat down on the edge of her bed continuing to dry her hair. The line clicked several times. She stopped toweling her hair, listening intently, "Hello?"

"Hey Carolyn," she recognized the female voice at once.

"Mac!" Smiling, she pushed herself back onto the bed so that she was sitting against the headboard. "How's it going over there?"

"Tiring." Carolyn frowned. It was not even 0500 in Iraq and yet it sounded like Mac had been up for hours. She surmised the Colonel was having trouble sleeping again. "Mac why aren't you asleep? You've still got at least an hour of left before you need to be up."

The reply came back easily. "Harm and I have been trying to formulate our plan of attack on this investigation."

"That rough?" She decided to accept Mac's comment at face value rather than probing.

"Yeah, it doesn't look real good right now."

"Anything I can do?" Her concern was genuine. After all, she considered Mac to be a friend. Even if at one time, they had had a thing for the Commander –Carolyn smiled – truth be told, she thought Mac still had a thing for the Commander.

"As a matter of fact there is, Carolyn. Can you get us a copy of report filed by the first JAG team that came out here?"

Carolyn twisted a strand of her hair, not sure that she wanted to go there. "I don't know Mac; they clamped a pretty tight lid on anything related to this case."

"Come on Carolyn, if you can't do it for me, do it for Harm."

She smiled, "How is the Commander these days?"

She could hear the grumpiness in Mac's voice. "As unpredictable as ever."

She stifled a laugh. "You still interested in him?"

Silence filled the line.

"Mac, are you still there?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Well?"

"I don't know Carolyn, he says the sweetest things sometimes and other times I just want to cold cock him."

Yeah, she still had it bad for him.

"Well let me know if you ever change your mind, I'd like a crack at your Flyboy."

Mac's voice became harsh. "He'd drive you nuts in a heartbeat."

Carolyn noticed that Mac didn't dispute the 'your Flyboy' comment. In the old days Mac would have gone out of her way to deny the Commander was 'her' Flyboy. _Mac you and I are going to have a long talk before I go back to my duty station_.She decided to see just how attached Sarah MacKenzie was to Harmon Rabb, Jr.

"That's what I'm guessing too, but it would be fun getting there."

Mac's voice took on a joking tone. "Carolyn, you're incorrigible. Why this sudden interest in my feelings for Harm, anyway?"

"Oh, come off it Mac, someone would have to be blind not to notice the sparks between you two."

She heard the Colonel pause. _Aha_!

"Mac, are you still there?"

"Carolyn, you're a romantic, did you know that? There is nothing going on between me and the Commander. I've called him 'flyboy' lots of times, he *was* a pilot, remember?"

She smiled. _Good ol' Mac-always keeping your cards close to your chest_. "So they've told me. Look I'll see what I can do regarding the case," she smiled as she added a dig, "For Harm's sake."

"Thanks Carolyn. By the way, how is it being back at Headquarters?" _Damn, I thought she'd take that bait…_.

"Not too bad. I'm working with a Marine Major-"

Mac broke in; Carolyn could hear the ear to ear smile on the other end. "A Marine, well I knew the Admiral would pair you with somebody good-"

"I don't know if 'good' is the word I would use to describe her-"

"Why?" Mac asked, Carolyn could tell curiosity was getting the best of her. "Who is it?"

"Carly Clemons from Pearl."

"Captain Clemons?" Mac's tone was incredulous. Carolyn could imagine the look on her face. The two women had crossed swords back when they were stationed at Okinawa. Anyone who knew Mac knew her opinion of Carly.

"Uh huh. Only, she's a Major now."

"Wow, that's a curve ball. I never thought she would get that far."

"You said it."

"How was her first day?"

"You remember how Singer did in interpersonal relations?"

Mac was astonished. "Damn, in just one day?"

"The Admiral reamed her out for about one hour solid. It took Alan and me another hour-"

"Hold up Carolyn. You and Alan, as in Commander Alan Mattoni?"

Carolyn smiled. "The same."

"Wow, the SECNAV really pulled a lot of strings didn't he? Sorry, I interrupted, so you and Alan-"

"Right, Alan and I along with Harriet and Tiner talked to the Admiral for about an hour convincing him to give Carly another chance-"

"Another chance? I'm surprised he didn't toss all of you out on your ears. So why are Tiner and Harriet involved?"

"They were trying to help. Mac, everybody deserves a second chance."

"Now you sound like Harm."

She smiled at that comment. "I learned from the best."

"Spare me, please." She could hear the sarcasm in Mac's voice.

"Okay; well anyway, she's under my supervision now."

"Sounds like quite a challenge."

"I think she just needs the right kind of mentor."

"Well good luck, because it sounds like you're gonna need it."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, MacKenzie."

"Anytime, Imes, anytime."

"Look, I'll talk to Tiner in the morning. I'll see what we can do about getting you the previous team's report."

"Thanks Carolyn, I knew I could count on you."

"So I can count on you to bail out my six when the Admiral starting chomping on it?"

"What are friends for?"

"Right; goodnight Mac," Imes cut her eyes to desk clock. "I mean, good morning."

Mac was unfazed, fatigue was settling in. "Yeah, get some rest Imes, I'll call you later."

Carolyn closed her phone and set it down on the nightstand_. So she and Harm are still playing the game after all these years. What does it take to get these two together?_

**Several hours earlier  
><strong>**Near Mirbullah, Iraq**

**xx_begin dream sequence_xx**

Mac found herself in the cockpit of an F-14. She looked toward the front and saw the pilot. Her heart leapt when she saw the name stenciled across the back of the helmet –HAMMER.

"_Harm…"__ Her voice sounded like she was talking underwater._

"_Not now Pete, I'm trying to keep her from shaking apart..."_

_Who's Pete? _She noticed the shaking which was becoming more pronounced with each passing moment. Alarms were blaring and smoke began to fill the cockpit.

"_Punch out Pete! I'll join you in a minute!"_

A puff of choking white death filled her nostrils and mouth. She gagged, causing her to involuntarily suck in more of the foul air, trying to replace the precious oxygen that she had lost.

She could hear Harm's voice but she also felt strangely peaceful, the smoke curling seductively around her. Then the cockpit began to shatter, replaced by boiling, flaming death. Mac felt her flight suit catch fire. She lifted up one arm and watched the fuel soaked fabric covering her arm ignite, the flames marching up her arm toward her fingertips. Mesmerized, Mac watched as the fire roared toward her face.

_OH DEAR GOD!_

**xx_end dream sequence_xx**

Sarah MacKenzie sat up panting, sweat pouring off of her. Her olive drab sweatsuit as well as her t-shirt and panties, were damp with perspiration. They felt cool and clammy next to her skin. She shivered as she yanked her covers off and swung her feet out of bed and sat on the edge trying to will her heart to slow down.

The worst part was that she could still taste the metallic tang of the electrical smoke in her mouth and smell its pungent odor in her nostrils. She had to fight hard to resist the urge to retch.

She sat up a little straighter and forced herself to do an internal time check. 0200 hours, two minutes, thirty nine seconds. Like clockwork, the dream ended at the exact same time as it had every other time. This was the tenth occasion in two weeks that this horror had visited her. And, this one was the most vivid and the most frightening.

It, along with other equally disturbing visions, had tortured her in recent weeks, making nightfall a dreaded time. For Sarah MacKenzie, sleep on these nights became a memory. She sighed and pulled off her sweats and pulled on her BDUs, not wanting to lie down anymore. She looked around the room, glad she had not screamed out loud. She always heard the same words screamed out at the end of the dream, but there was no way to discern who spoke them.

Walking outside and sitting down on the steps of the portable building that served as her apartment, she put her head in her hands. God, how she wished she could sleep. These disturbing visions were beginning to affect her judgment and emotional control during the day, not to mention her new relationship with Harm.

Harm. Her greatest source of comfort and her greatest source of turmoil had been revealed to be at the center of these…these visions. Was he in danger? What did they mean? Did they mean anything? Honestly, she just didn't know anymore. How she wished she could just drop off into unconsciousness, but she knew the same flight and the same awful crash was waiting for her with open arms. She looked up into the night sky, tears blurring her vision. She dropped her head again, praying for relief as she wept silently.

**xxvixx**

**Harmon Rabb, Jr. could 'see' Mac** waking from a nightmare. In his mind's eye, he watched her get up and get dressed—Was that a smoky odor? His eyes snapped open at that sensation. He breathed deeply. No smoke here. He threw back his covers and swung his feet out of the bed. Dressing, he quietly got up and walked outside.

The night air was cool. The sky was dark, sprinkled with the minute flashes and twinkles of a thousand stars. Dawn was still hours off. Now fully awake, he decided to check on Mac. Just in case.

As he walked over to her barracks, he knew what would happen if she caught him doing this. '_Harm, I don't need a guardian_.' He could hear her saying. '_Please don't do this. I'll be fine, really_.'

"I'm a Marine, I can handle this…." he chuckled humorlessly at the words he knew she would say to him.

"Well Mac," he said determinedly to himself, "Whether you like it or not, I'm going to watch your six." He made his way across the compound to her barracks.

**xxvixx**

**Mac stirred from her** semi-slumber. She felt movement near her. She was instantly on alert, but pretended to still be out of it.

**xxvixx**

**There it was again**, **a whiff of**… electrical smoke? He looked at the steps of the barracks and saw the huddled female form. It was Mac. It had to be nearly three in the morning, what was she doing out here?

He moved closer. "Mac?"

She didn't move.

"Mac?" This time he touched her lightly on her forearm.

**xxvixx**

**Mac felt the warmth** of Harm's touch. Instantly, she knew what she wanted. She lifted her head – she hoped the darkness would hide the fact she had been crying. "Hey."

"Hey yourself." He noted immediately by the hoarseness of her voice that she had been crying. Better start with a joke and see how that plays. "What's the matter Marine; bed not lumpy enough for you?"

Mac smiled brightly at his attempt at humor. _Good ol' Harm, always a joke first to test the waters_. "Not sleepy," she lied, "Too keyed up about this case."

Harm was not convinced. "Want to talk about it?" He sat down next to her. "Come on Mac, open up to me."

_Enter the investigator_, she thought, _Okay Flyboy, let's talk_. "No one seems especially happy about us being here." It was the truth, but she knew that's not what he wanted to talk about.

"True. But that usually doesn't rattle you Mac. So what's really wrong?" Harm said seeing through her subterfuge.

_Damn, he usually doesn't catch on that quickly that there is something else bothering me_.

"I'm fine Harm. Just a little taken aback by their hostility." Mac said evasively.

Harm decided for now to stop questioning her about what else was bothering her. "They're a very close group Mac. You told me that; remember?"

She nodded, glad he wasn't probing her further. "True, point taken counselor."

"Look there's a couple of hours left before reveille, come here." He scooted closer to Mac. She stiffened at his touch. He felt the response and gently rubbed her back. That seemed to relax her a little.

"We'll rest for a little while, you can lean into me and then I'll wake you and I can lean into you. It'll be warmer than hugging ourselves."

It sounded inviting, really inviting, but they were on an assignment, so she decided it was best to remind him of that. "And what if a sentry comes along? How are you going to explain this, Harm?"

He smiled at her. "I'll tell him I'm up with a sick friend."

She shot him a playful look. "Funny Harm."

"Better than sitting here hugging yourself."

She tried one last time to reason with him. "Why don't you just go back inside?" she pleaded. "I'll be fine really; I just need some quiet time."

But Harm wasn't about to be swayed. "Good try Ninja Girl, but you're not shaking me that easily."

She shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I had to give it a try."

"Just relax Marine and try to get some shut-eye. I'll think of something if a sentry comes by."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

Harm playfully punched her on the arm, as she scooted closer snuggling down on his chest.

**-TBC…**


	8. Chapter 7

…**For Meritorious Service, Chapter VII**

**0454 Local_0154 Zulu  
>Camp Chesty Puller<br>Near Mirbullah, Iraq  
><strong>

**Harm yawned, but tried not to stretch too much**. Mac was sound asleep in his lap. Only once during the night, did a sentry come over, to see who the two people were sitting on the steps. To his surprise, he only asked to see Harm's ID and then looking down at Mac, smiled and wished the Commander a pleasant evening/morning.

Despite their agreement to take shifts, Mac was next to impossible to wake up. Harm finally gave up at 04:20. This cold wasn't doing his old injuries much good, but apparently, this was the Marine's first peaceful sleep in a long while. That bothered Harm and if it meant a little stiffness for him, well, so be it. He knew Mac had bouts of sleeplessness, but her falling into this kind of deep sleep meant Mac had missed more than just a few nights' rest. He had to find out what was going on with her and soon. He looked down at her. She looked so innocent, so peaceful, and so… so beautiful.

Her eyelids fluttered and she let out a soft groan.

Mac felt so refreshed, she felt relaxed, she felt…Harm's lap. Her eyes snapped open. The Commander was staring down at her.

"Good Morning Colonel."

"Uh, morning." She quickly did a mental check of the time as she lifted her head off his lap and sat up facing him. "Harm, its 0455 and…twenty nine seconds."

"What's the matter Mac," he teased smiling at her discomfort, "Internal clock alarm need new batteries?"

She ignored his joke. "Harm, you let me sleep," Her indignation was half-hearted. "Why didn't you wake me like you were supposed to?"

His voice indicated the answer was evident "I did try…several times. Besides you obviously needed to sleep, Marine."

Mac sighed. As usual, Harmon Rabb was right, damn him. She did feel better than she had in a long time. How many weeks had it been – two, three? She honestly couldn't remember. Up to now she hadn't gotten more than twenty hours of sleep a week. Like any Marine, she had been trained on how to handle sleep deprivation, but she was fast reaching her breaking point.

Several times she had dozed off during the day. A couple of times in her office, another time resulted in a hair-raising near traffic accident and a few days ago she had slept through staff call. The Admiral had given her hell for it, but only her ego had been bruised and she had been able to convince him that she had been ill over the weekend.

But she couldn't keep this up forever.

"Mac, I know something's wrong, talk to me."

"Nothing's wrong." she insisted a little too strongly as she got up and walked away from him.

"Maac…"

She hated it when he did that. One, it meant he wanted an answer and two, it was really cute.

"Harm please, can we discuss this later?" He got up and walked over to her. He stood close but did not touch her. She could feel his breath on her and see the intensity in his blue eyes. He wasn't going to let this go…but he would give her a temporary reprieve.

"Okay Mac, I'll back off for now,"

She relaxed a little and started to say 'thank you' but it died on her lips when he fixed her with a stern gaze.

"But, we will discuss this…later."

**0707 Local_1107 Zulu  
>JAG Headquarters<br>Falls Church, Virginia**

**Admiral Chegwidden had just settled down at his desk**, to begin going through some case file reports, left on his desk from the previous evening. Tiner was nothing if not efficient. He picked up his coffee cup to take a sip when his phone began to ring.

He looked over at the phone. There could only be one of two people calling at this hour. One was Commander Rabb. He wasn't ready for that yet. He continued to let it ring. The second person it might be was the SECNAV. He sighed, put down his coffee cup and punched the intercom button on his phone.

"Admiral Chegwidden."

"AJ, I trust I am not interrupting anything at this early hour?" Secretary of the Navy Sheffield always managed to sound chipper no matter what time of day it was. _Then again, it could be my imagination,_ AJ thought.

AJ smiled knowing that it made the person talking sound friendlier – no matter how they really felt about the person they were talking to. "No Sir, Mr. Secretary, what can I do for you this morning?"

"Can you, ah, give me a progress report on the Lieutenant Dodge murder investigation?"

AJ tried to maintain his smile. "Well Sir, I haven't heard from the team since last night. They just arrived yesterday afternoon-"

Sheffield cut him off sharply. "AJ, I don't think I need to remind you how important this investigation is."

AJ understood the implied threat. While AJ had the rank and the tenure, he served at the pleasure of the SECNAV even if the man was a civilian. "Yes Sir, Mr. Secretary. Commanders Rabb and Turner, Colonel MacKenzie and Lieutenant Roberts met with Colonel Briggs yesterday evening. They *will* have a progress report for me later this morning."

"Well, can't they tell us something right now?" The man's lack of patience was wearing on AJ. His smiled flickered a little, but somehow he managed to maintain it. _The things I do for the Navy…._

"Right about now they're out in the field interviewing witnesses, Sir. It would be difficult to *reach* to them."

"Oh I see; well AJ, I'll be looking forward to their report." _Finally, the man gets it. We can't just conjure these things out of thin air…._

"This case has been stagnant for far too long. I'm still not sure why the first team couldn't take care of this." _What? Of all the stupid, asinine comments-_

"The reports of improprieties, Sir?" He gently reminded the SECNAV. Even though AJ had the urge to scream at him, he knew it was not conducive to him keeping his job as the JAG. _Then again,_ he thought evilly, _it might be worth it._

"Oh yes, that's right I forgot." _Well, well, it does have a brain. _"Well AJ, I do know that we have the best there now."

"Yes Sir." _Damn right we do!_

"Commander Manetti told me that Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie are two of your hardest working staff."

"Yes Sir they are." _When they aren't giving me extra strength migraines…._

"So I know they'll do a good job." _Thanks for a statement of the obvious._

"Yes Sir."

"You know AJ, Lieutenant Dodge is a true hero. Something we have precious few of these days, and his murderers need to be brought to justice."

"My people will do their best Sir." _If you'll just stop worrying us for five minutes…_

"I know they will, AJ, I know they will."

The SecNav must've decided that he had milked as much as he could out of that subject. He abruptly switched topics. "So, how are the replacements working out? You know AJ, getting Commanders Mattoni and Imes away from their current duty assignments must have been difficult. Thank you for making that possible AJ."

"Well Sir, that was really your decision." _Fishing for compliments, eh, Mr. Secretary?_

"Yes, I guess it was. And Lieutenant Commander Burford and Major Clemons, I trust they are doing satisfactory work?"

The smile was getting harder to maintain. "They had a little trouble adjusting Sir, but I think everything will work out."

"Good AJ, good. I'm happy to hear that, because I think they will make excellent partners one day."

_If they don't kill each other first,_ he thought grumpily, "Yes Sir, they will, someday."

Sheffield picked up on his change of tone immediately. "You don't sound very positive AJ, is there something wrong?"

_Damn! _Now he had stuck his foot in it. "They are very spirited, Sir, especially Major Clemons."

"Ah yes, Major Clemons. Well you know, she has expressed strong interest about working in your office, AJ."

_Really? So she can wreck it?_ "That's good to know Sir."

"She needs a good partner to provide her balance. I think Lieutenant Commander Burford can do that. This will be a good experience for them."

"Yes Sir."

"Glad to hear you agree AJ, well, I look forward to your report from Commander Rabb. I know he will do what needs to be done to straighten out this situation at Mirbullah."

"Yes Sir." _Providing that Mac, Sturgis, and Bud can keep him under control…._

"Well, Goodbye AJ."

"Goodbye Sir." AJ Chegwidden punched the intercom button again, disconnecting the call. He sat for a moment looking at the phone and then leaned back in his overstuffed chair. Holding his reading glasses in one hand, he rubbed his face with the other. Then he pinched and rubbed the bridge of his nose for a few minutes, wondering about his just finished conversation with the Secretary. _I don't know how much longer I can do this; between Rabb and Sheffield, I may have to put in for early retirement…._

"Good Morning Admiral."

He looked up through his open door. Petty Officer Jennifer Coates stood looking at him.

_Another Rabb disciple,_ he thought sourly. Well, he'd straighten her out once she took Tiner's place when he went to Naval Justice School.

"Good morning Coates." He returned gruffly.

"Have you heard from Mirbullah yet, Sir?" her voice was hopeful, as she looked at him.

"No Petty Officer." doing his best to sound annoyed.

"Sorry Sir, would you like for me to get you some coffee?"

"I'm still nursing my first cup, Coates." She looked a little dejected at that.

_Oh hell,_ "I guess I could use a warm-up."

She immediately brightened. "Yes Sir, right away, Admiral"

She came to attention, pivoted and headed to the break room. In moment, AJ could hear her busily starting the coffeemaker.

"I hope she makes better coffee than Tiner does." he said aloud as he opened another report to review.

**0830 Local_0530 Zulu  
>City Police Station<br>Mirbullah, Iraq**

**Harm sat at the table directly across** from 1st Lieutenant Benjamin F. Lukens, the Cobra gunship pilot. He was clean shaven, but haggard looking.

"Are they treating you well-"

"What do you care?" shot back the pilot. It really didn't matter to him what this lawyer thought.

Harm's easy going demeanor disappeared; and was replaced by a professional coolness. "Okay Lieutenant, let's start this again." The pilot looked sullenly at him, refusing to give him the courtesy of a second chance.

Harm smiled briefly then grabbed the pilot by the collar. Pulling him close so that they were nose to nose. The Commander's face now became an uncaring mask. His voice ice cold. "Let's get one thing straight Lieutenant; you don't want to be here and I don't want to be here, but I need to investigate what happened. So let's stop horsing around and get down to business." He shoved the man roughly back into his chair.

"That's assault Commander-" the man began to growl, shooting out of the chair, trying to regain his attitude and his anger. It was his only advantage here. But he faltered when he saw the Commander's uncaring, dead eyes and heard that cold voice again.

"And you're being held on murder charges Lieutenant," Harm fired back with equal intensity. "Do you think anyone in this station really honestly cares right now, what you think?"

He glowered at the Commander who calmly sat back down at the table. "Now let's start again, Lieutenant Lukens." Harm made a point to de-emphasizing the man's rank. It was a way of humbling him.

Ben Lukens realized that he wasn't going to intimidate this man so, he sat down opposite Harm. Like the flip of a hidden switch, the cold professional was replaced by the more open caring man known as the Commander. "Are they treating you well?"

"Fair enough." It was a neutral comment. At least it was progress.

Harm decided it would do little good to try and beat any cooperation out of him. He smiled at the dark thought. The Admiral wouldn't stand for it. It took him a moment to realize he had slipped back into field agent interrogation mode. He looked at the man, uncertain what kind of damage he had done.

He had to get this darker part of him back under control. He was a lawyer again and lawyers don't go around beating confessions out of people. Quietly he pulled out a legal pad from his open briefcase and uncapped his pen. "Tell me in your own words what happened Lieutenant…."

"…and when we returned fire, Ma'am, Lieutenant Dodge, sorta slumped in his hatch. That's when we knew he had been hit."

"But you had no idea he was dead?" Mac made a note to look again at the ballistics report and the Medical Examiner's review. She looked up at 2nd Lieutenant Frederick Buell. Buell's slight gangly build and sandy blond hair made him seem more innocuous, but Mac knew that might not be the case. Many times she and Harm had dealt with people like this and found just the opposite.

"No Ma'am." He smiled briefly and then buried it.

Mac remained impassive despite the temptation to relax her guard around this man. "When you say 'sorta slumped' did you happen to see any blood appear on his back?"

"Yes Ma'am." That's the way the whole interview had been. Yes Ma'am, No Ma'am, Thank You Ma'am – the guy was almost too polite. "Three splotches, uh sorry, that is, three entry points, Ma'am."

"And How many rounds had you and Lieutenant Lukens fired?"

The Cobra Weapons Officer closed his eyes, looking as if he was doing mental calculations for a moment. After a moment he opened them and looked directly at her. "All told, Ma'am, I'd say between the both of us we fired about a dozen rounds."

The Colonel wrote down on her legal pad 'defendant's recall matches ammunition report'

She put down her pen and looked hard at the Weapons Officer. "Is there anything else you'd like to tell me?"

"No Sir," Lukens looked directly into the Commander's eyes. "I did not kill Lieutenant Dodge."

"You've made that abundantly clear Lieutenant," Harm studied the man for a moment. "But that's not up to me to decide."

Lukens dropped eyes to the table in deference to the officer. "Commander?"

Harm looked impassively at the man. "Yes Lieutenant?"

"Sir, I know you have guys tell you all the time that they didn't kill so and so or do the thing they are accused of…, and I know the evidence against us is pretty damning-"

"It would have helped if you had not been in a shoving match with Lieutenant Dodge twenty four hours earlier-" Harm interrupted.

"Yes Sir," he said contritely, "I know that now Sir, but you have to believe me Sir, I did not kill Lieutenant Dodge and neither did my Weapons Officer."

Harm almost believed this man despite his initial misgivings about the pilot. There was something in his comments. The Commander tried not to betray his true sentiments.

"I'm just here to file a report Lieutenant. Not to determine guilt or innocence."

However, Harm was already beginning to believe there may be something else going on here. With all his years as an investigator and prosecutor it was fairly easy to tell when someone was trying to pull a snow job. But all during this interview, he could not read anything duplicitous about this man. Yes, he had a temper and he was a little gruff, but murder seemed less and less like something this man would do.

"Commander, what happens if your report indicates enough evidence for this to go to trial?"

Harm smiled his first genuine smile during this interview. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, Lieutenant. We still have a lot of work to do before we can reach any kind of conclusion."

Ben Lukens grinned for the first time since Harm entered the cell. "Yes Sir, thank you for your honesty, Sir."

Harm, got up and tapped on the jail cell door. He looked back at the man. "For what it's worth, Lieutenant, I believe you."

"Thank you, Sir."

The door opened and Harm left, leaving Lieutenant Lukens feeling the most positive he had felt in weeks.

-TBC…


	9. Chapter 8

**...For Meritorious Service, Chapter VIII**

**AN: A test of your reading skills – to keep from drawing out the witness interviews any more than necessary, I did a series of 'quick cuts' so to speak, on relevant witnesses. Sorry if this causes any confusion, all will be resolved shortly...**

**As Harm stepped out of the cell**, he saw Mac coming down the hall. Looking at her face, the Commander could tell she was deep in thought.

"Something troubling you Mac?"

She looked up, momentarily distracted from her train of thought. "Just finished with 2nd Lieutenant Buell." She said absently, and then started looking back through her stenographer's pad.

Harm was intrigued. "And?"

She flipped her pad closed with a flourish "…And, I'm having trouble believing this guy could kill in cold blood."

"Why? Because he looks so innocent? Remember your basic courses on the criminal mind, Counselor…." But Harm was curious as to why she thought this.

She held up her hand in mock surrender. "I know, I know, I should know better." she said disgustedly, "But Harm, this guy doesn't impress me as a killer."

Harm looked thoughtfully at her. "Well if it's any consolation, I don't think Lieutenant Lukens did it either."

She shook her head. "But the mountain of evidence against them is staggering-"

"Overwhelming." He added.

"Besides we're just supposed to be investigating whether or not this should be brought to trial at this point." She tried to put the best face on the situation. "You know, we may find that there's not even enough evidence for a trial."

Harm shook his head. "You and I both know that we don't believe that for a moment."

She sighed heavily at the truth of his statement. "True." In all likelihood this would go to trial, but first, at least they would have to have a hearing. There was still hope of keeping this from going any further.

He crossed his arms and leaned back against the hallway wall. "So where does that leave us?"

She leaned back against the wall on the opposite side, with her arms crossed. "Well, it's only 1000, the Admiral won't be in until 1530 our time at the earliest. So why don't we find as many witnesses as we can, that might be able to help them, before we have to give our progress report."

He smiled as he pushed himself away from the wall. "I like the way you think MacKenzie."

She smiled briefly but then quickly sobered as she joined him. "Don't get your hopes up too high Commander, with Dodge being a hero; we have a pretty big hurdle to clear."

"I'm in pretty good shape and I've cleared some pretty big hurdles in my time," he quipped jocularly. "What do you say Colonel; care to join me?" He held out his arm.

She rolled her eyes while shaking her head. "Why do I feel like Sancho working with Don Quixote?"

He tried his best to look wounded by her sarcastic comment. "Hey Marine, I thought I was Batman…."

She smirked. "Right, and I, as your faithful sidekick, am supposed to try and talk some sense into you."

Harm pretended to be pondering her comment. "Hmm, I don't remember Robin doing that." He winked at her.

She dropped her voice to soft whisper, looking intently at him. "Robin's a lot more sophisticated than she used to be." He locked eyes with her. Both felt the electricity. She unconsciously licked her lips. He stared, feeling a war beginning between his common sense and his baser emotions. With effort, he managed to subdue the baser demons, although a part of him was eager to explore these feelings for Mac. They were growing stronger each day.

Harm smiled, chuckling. "Well, we can go find someplace private and debate this all day or we can start interviewing witnesses."

It broke the spell. Mac cocked her head. Not sure what had just happened. This Harm was definitely freer with his feelings for her. She smiled. "Let's go, Flyboy, and interview those witnesses; maybe we'll get lucky…"

**0742 Local_1142 Zulu  
>JAG Headquarters<br>Falls Church, Virginia**

**Lieutenant Sims had just deposited the case files** that came in with the morning courier. Admiral Chegwidden was looking at these new ones when his phone buzzed.

"Yes Coates?"

"Admiral, it's Colonel Briggs on line one."

"I'll take it Coates," AJ punched the line and put the caller on the intercom. "Good evening Ashton,

"AJ,"

"How is the investigation progressing?"

"I'll get right to the point, Admiral. Do you always send four officers to do a JAGMan investigation?" The Colonel asked piercingly.

The Admiral was taken aback and slightly annoyed with the man's attitude. "Ash, you're the one who asked for a quick and quiet review of this case." He wasn't asking him to be falling down grateful, but it wouldn't hurt for him to show just a little gratitude.

"Well, they have been quick, I'll give them that, but I'm not so sure about quiet,"

"What do you mean Ash?" _If Harmon Rabb has screwed this up, a certain Commander would find himself transferred to the Aleutians, or maybe Kansas._

"They're interviewing everyone AJ! Hell, the only person they haven't talked to yet is the unit mascot!"

AJ smiled. No doubt, this was the Colonel and the Commander's idea. "My people do a thorough job Ash, and it seems like you *should* want them to be thorough."

"That's not the point AJ."

"Well exactly what is the point, Colonel?" AJ was becoming more aggravated by the minute with his 'friend's' sarcastic and antagonistic tone.

"As I see it, there are three possible outcomes to this investigation. First, Lieutenant Dodge was killed in the line of duty-died a hero's death. Tragic, but end of story. He'll get a hero's burial with full honors and his wife will get a flag and some nice benefits. Second, the Lieutenant was killed by friendly fire – again tragic, and it'll be up to your team to find out who did it. Third, Dodge was murdered. That is one that has most of the 36th and the higher ups whispering. It means there is someone here that has killed a fellow solder, and may kill again, if they think it is necessary. But you know, to me that seems like the least likely one, so I really don't think this should even be considered."

"So what you're saying is you would rather-"

"-I would rather they find the Lieutenant's death was an accident or a case of friendly fire."

"Colonel,…" AJ took the phone off the intercom and picked up the receiver. "Ashton," he said with quiet intensity, "Do you know what you're asking me to do?"

"I do AJ. This can't be murder. They have to prove it's something else. You owe me Admiral,"

"Ash, we go back a long way-"

"A long way, AJ."

The Admiral closed his eyes. "I can't do this Ash."

"AJ-"

His voice became hard as he opened his eyes. Treating Ashton Briggs like junior officer rather than as a friend hurt him worse than the Marine Colonel could ever imagine. "Denied Colonel. Commander Rabb has my full backing to carry out this investigation as he sees fit. If it's found to be a murder, then he, and they, will prosecute it as such."

"If it's found that Dodge was murdered on my watch, you know it'll be the end of my career. It'll be yet another black mark on Operation Iraqi Freedom, AJ."

AJ knew it was a desperate attempt to save himself, but he couldn't allow it. "I'm sorry Ashton."

"Yeah, AJ," Colonel Ashton Briggs said bitterly, realizing he had lost the argument. "Me too."

The line clicked off, leaving a buzzing dial tone. AJ stared at the phone, listening to the drone. The sullen voice of his former friend replayed in his mind. Friend or no friend, AJ Chegwidden just couldn't do this. He couldn't ask Rabb and the others to ignore the fact someone may have killed in cold blood The killer, if there was one, had to be brought to justice, and unfortunately if it meant damaging or ending his friend's career and even if it made trouble for the American expeditionary forces in Iraq, they would have to do it.

AJ savagely punched the button, cutting off the drone. He looked up at the accommodations and awards on his wall. Had it always been this messy? Sure it had. There were no clean wars, there were no good fights, there was just armed combat against a designated enemy. It wasn't the warrior's business to determine who was morally right and who was morally wrong. Their job was to protect and defend the United States and its citizens. However, it was his job as Judge Advocate General to make sure that the laws, regulations and rules of the American military were enforced. And if someone violated those rules, it was his job to make sure they were punished for their crimes.

**1120 Local_0820 Zulu  
>Outpost Bravo<br>Camp Chesty Puller  
>Near Mirbullah, Iraq<strong>

**"I need to speak with Staff Sergeant Thomas Z. Fuller."**

Sturgis and Bud stood looking at the mechanic who had emerged from underneath the LAV he was working on.

The man wiped his hands on oil stained cloth he was holding and looked at the two legal officers. "Aye Sir, I'll see if I can locate him."

He got up and walked away from the two naval officers. Bud and Sturgis looked at each other for a moment, and then Bud looked at the armored vehicle.

"Have you ever been in one of these Sir?"

"Can't say that I have, Lieutenant." His tone indicated he really wasn't interested in small talk right now.

An awkward silence ensued. Fortunately, it didn't last long. The mechanic came back.

"Over there, Sirs." He pointed to a group of Light Armored Vehicles parked a few hundred feet from where they were standing.

Bud looked at Sturgis for a moment. Then they both began trudging toward the vehicle park.

Staff Sergeant Fuller, 'Zeke' to his friends, studied his cards.

"Rover Two to Rover Four, I got a pair of kings, Over."

Zeke looked back at his cards. _Damn!_

Disgusted, he picked up his radio mike and depressed the talk button. "I fold, Over."

"That's six MRE's that you owe me," came back the jovial voice of Rover Two.

Zeke smiled. "Just what are you going to do with all of those MREs?"

"Make a casserole," came back the laconic reply. "You're welcome to have some if you like, Over."

Zeke shook his head. "No, I'll pass Rover Two; I've had your casseroles before."

"Staff Sergeant Fuller?"

Zeke turned around in his hatch and looked at the two officers approaching.

"Wait one, Rover Two." He disconnected his radio. "I'm Staff Sergeant Fuller." He looked at the two Naval officers looking up at him and quickly saluted. "Sorry, Commander, Lieutenant."

Sturgis walked up closer to the truck. "Commander Sturgis Turner, JAG Corps – this is my partner, Lieutenant Bud Roberts.

Zeke pulled himself out of the hatch and hopped down to the ground next to the two men.

"Commander, Lieutenant. I guess you're here to discuss Lieutenant Dodge's murder, Sir. Captain Johnson told me to expect you."

The former Naval submarine officer looked around. "Is there some place we can talk, Sergeant?"

"Aye Sir. We can use the back of the truck." He picked up his com wire and plugged it back into his helmet. "Excuse me for a moment, Sirs."

"Rover Two, this is Rover Four. We'll have to continue another time. I've got company."

"Roger wilco, Four. Rover Two, out."

"Back here, Sirs." He disconnected the wire again and led the two lawyers to the back of the truck. He opened the LAV's back doors. "After you, Commander, Lieutenant."

Bud and Sturgis climbed in. Zeke looked at his driver and gunner who had appeared in the turret hatch.

"Guys, do me a favor and get scarce for a while."

"Sure Staff Sergeant," replied the gunner, "Come on Kev, and let's go see if Weinrich has that ZNN guy interviewing him."

Both men jumped down from the truck and walked toward the battalion vehicle park. Zeke watched them as they approached the ZNN mini-cam operator. They were reluctant to leave Zeke, but the tone in his voice left little room for objection. He turned back to the two JAG officers.

"What do you want to know, Commander?" He said casually sitting down across from them in the personnel compartment.

"Why don't we start at the beginning?" asked Sturgis as Bud uncapped his pen.

"Okay," the Staff Sergeant studied the two lawyers and then focused on a distant point just behind them. "We were scouting…my unit was scouting for the main body. We had gotten the word from Force Recon that the Republican Guard had a base of operations in the town of Mirbullah. They also notified us the several mid-level Al-Qaeda operatives had been spotted in the town. We were ordered by Colonel Briggs to look for a way in. I split my platoon into two forces. I lead Alpha section to the heights just outside the village and had our scout teams recon the entry points into the village. Bravo section lead by Sergeant Benson rolled into town and scouted for enemy positions."

Bud looked up from his notes. "Did either of you initially find any enemy positions?"

The Staff Sergeant looked vacantly at them. "Initially? No. We scouted the whole town – it wasn't until later in the action that we learned they had positioned themselves on the hill just to the west of town and in the upper levels of the buildings in Mirbullah – they were watching us the whole time."

"So you gave the go ahead for the main body to move in." added Sturgis. _Hmm, he didn't mention this in his official report. I'll let it slide for now…._

"Aye Sir; and about the time the main body began to move through the town, all hell broke loose on the north side. We broke contact, and rushed over to help Force Recon who had been pinned down by enemy fire."

Sir, if you don't mind, could you verify for me and the Commander the deployment of the MEU around Mirbullah? Bud produced a blank mapsheet of the town.

The Sergeant looked at the map. "Uh well Sir, as I said, I was with Alpha section on this set of low hills east of Mirbullah, Bravo section was reconnoitering the bridge crossings into the town. The AMTRAC and Weapons platoons were to the east of us getting ready to move in when we gave the word. The tank platoon was moving to the north side of the town to support Force Recon and one of the infantry companies that had become pinned down by a probing attack by Republican Guard troops."

Bud marked the positions he indicated. "Thank you Sergeant."

Sturgis looked at the map and then at the LAV commander. "When did you get back to the southern side where the main body was?"

"When our heavy support reached the Force Recon positions, we heard Lieutenant Hawkins, the AMTRAC unit commander, radioing that they had been ambushed. We broke contact with the enemy force on that side of the village and raced back, trying to break the AMTRACs out of their encirclement."

Bud added more notes to his map. Sturgis nodded. "Okay Sergeant, what happened next?"

"We succeeded in forcing the ambushers back, but in the process we got too close. Sergeant Benson's vehicle took a direct hit from a missile. He never knew what hit him."

He looked at both JAG attorneys for a moment, letting a momentary shadow of pain cross his face. Then as quick as it appeared, it was gone.

"After that, we pulled back out of their range and continued to lay down suppressive fire on Lieutenant Hawkins's attackers."

Chaplain Turner's son continued his interview. "Did you see what happened next?"

"My gunner spotted him first…."

**xx_begin flashback_xx**

_Sergeant , I got an AMTRAC headed for Lieutenant Hawkins's position!_

_What the hell? Who is it Ben? Talk to me…_

_It…it's Lieutenant Dodge, Sergeant! He's trying to break through to Lieutenant Hawkins and Gunny Sanchez!_

_Rover Four to all Rovers! Give the Lieutenant cover fire! Don't let'em line him up for an RPG shot!_

_Aye, aye Sergeant!_

_**xx_end flashback_xx**_

"We began our cover fire and the Lieutenant barreled full speed into that stone wall that was standing between him and the village square."

"What did you see next?"

**xx_begin flashback_xx**

_Hot damn! The Lieutenant did it Sergeant! He broke through and he's in the square!_

_Rover Four to all Rovers! Move in and support the Lieutenant!_

**xx_end flashback_xx**

"Lieutenant Dodge had disrupted their attack. So, we moved in to exploit the damage done. Meantime, chatter on the local net was hot and heavy."

"How so?"

"You know Commander, the Gunny was trying to rally the AMTRAC squads, and Lieutenant Hawkins was radioing for close air support-"

"…And this was when Colonel Briggs sent in Lieutenant Lukens's Cobra, FIREFLY ONE?"

"Aye Sir. We saw him approaching fast. The Lieutenant, like Dodge, didn't waste any time – he went in guns blazing—making the enemy troops dive for cover."

"And what was Dodge doing during all this?"

"Lieutenant Dodge was working his way over to the Gunny."

**xxviiixx**

**"…And he deliberately placed himself between the enemy and the Gunny?"** Harm hastily scribbled down the man's account. Lance Corporal Wil Delfin had been crouched down by a nearby burning Humvee and had witnessed Dodge's actions.

"Aye Sir – if it hadn't been for Lieutenant Dodge…well sir, Gunnery Sergeant Sanchez and the rest of us would be dead."

**xxviiixx**

**"Lieutenant Dodge helped Lieutenant Hawkins rally the company?"** Mac was sitting on a crate of bottled water facing Sergeant Perez. Perez had been with riding in one of the Humvees near the front of the column when the ambush happened.

"Affirmative—no disrespect to Lieutenant Hawkins or Captain Lewis, Ma'am, but the enemy had the company so badly broken up, that they needed the help and they didn't refuse Lieutenant Dodge's assistance."

**xxviiixx**

**"What about FIREFLY ONE?"** Harm's notes listed that Corporal Chris Kirtland, the scout unit leader attached to Fuller's LAV unit, had been dismounted and witnessed the whole attack on Lukens's Cobra.

"From what we could see, he was giving as good as he was getting. The Iraqis had labeled him public nuisance number one and wanted him out of there."

**xxviiixx**

**"…But they couldn't get rid of him."**

"No Sir; Lieutenant Lukens was holding his own and then some."

"Until some Republican Guard snipers found their mark." Bud handed Lance Corporal Randy Cruze, Dodge's driver, a plastic bottle of water. The man nodded his thanks and drank deeply. The heat inside an AAV personnel carrier was unbearable during this time in the afternoon.

"Yes Sir. Lukens's Weapon Officer started radioing that they had a problem, but they didn't think it was serious. About that time, the Lieutenant told me smoke was boiling from underneath the Gunship. I listened to the conversation between the two…."

**xx_begin flashback_xx**

_MAYDAY! MAYDAY! This is FIREFLY ONE! We are taking heavy sustained ground fire! I'm declaring an emergency! Gonna autorotate down!_

_FIREFLY ONE! This is TRACK TWO ZERO! HOW BAD IS IT?_

_Losing hydraulics fast! I've got smoke coming from underneath and enough chirping signals in here to attract a flock of birds!_

_FIREFLY ONE can you get clear of the combat zone?_

_NEGATIVE! NEGATIVE! Losing oil pressure way too fast TWO ZERO! Gotta bring her down quick or she's coming down the hard way!_

_Understood FIREFLY head for the far side of the stream! I'll cover you!_

_Much obliged TWO ZERO! Out!_

_**xx_end flashback_xx**_

"We kept hammering at those Guard troops – they smelled blood and they wanted all of us-bad. I watched as FIREFLY ONE veered away and headed for that stream."

**xxviiixx**

**Mac noted that Lance Corporal Greg Tacewell**, the fireteam leader for Rover two had seen the majority of the firefight between the Cobra and the Iraqi ambushers. Tacewell had had the unique advantage of being able to see Lieutenant Dodge, Gunny Sanchez and the crash of FIREFLY ONE.

"I saw the Gunny rally a couple of squads. They headed toward the emergency LZ for FIREFLY ONE.

"What did Lieutenant Dodge do?"

"He had his driver gun the engine and the Lieutenant's AMTRAC raced across open ground trying to protect FIREFLY ONE as Lieutenant Lukens auto-rotated her down."

**xxviiixx**

**"What about your squad?"** Mac noted that Corporal Vick Dremmond, the leader of Rover three's scout team, was the furthest back from the action, and helped with the rallying of the company's troops. But he also saw Dodge's actions, and the controlled crash of FIREFLY ONE.

"We were trying to help Lieutenant Hawkins and Captain Lewis rally the troops and mop up the last of the ambushers – but we did see FIREFLY ONE land hard. Right after that, as Lieutenants Lukens and Buell got out of that smoking wreck; Lieutenant Dodge pulled his track in front of FIREFLY ONE shielding it from enemy fire."

"Are you saying he deliberately put himself between the downed Cobra and the enemy fire?" Lieutenant Hank Borden, commander of SLUGGER ONE, one of the MEU's M1A1 Abrams tanks, nodded sagely as Harm wrote down his account.

"Yes Sir. The Guard troops were apparently occupying the houses in front of Lukens's LZ as soon as FIREFLY ONE landed; they started shooting, trying to finish off the Cobra crew."

**xxviiixx**

**"…And Lieutenant Dodge as well?"**

"Aye Sir; he had spoiled their fun one too many times. He did the exact same thing he had done with the Gunny, he blocked the enemy fire with his vehicle."

"And during all this, Lieutenants Lukens Buell were-"

-in back of Lieutenant Dodge, yes Sir."

"Where were you at this point?" Sturgis made a note on his pad that Corporal Larry Glanz, Rover Four's driver, might not be the best witness since most of his information was second hand.

"About 175 to 190 yards away. We were moving toward them."

**xxviiixx**

**"Could you see Lukens, Buell and Dodge?"** As Mac glanced up from her notepad, Sergeant Phil Watkins, Commander of SLUGGER TWO, gave her a brief smile before turning serious again.

"Yes Ma'am, very clearly – the bulk of the enemy fire was coming from our front. I saw Gunny and the others reach the Cobra just about the same time I could see Captain Lewis and Lieutenant Hawkins bringing up the rear."

**xxviiixx**

**"What about the enemy fire?"** Mac paused as Lance Corporal Rick Bauer, one the grenadiers for Rover Three's scout team, smiled.

"As I said Ma'am, to our front it was furious – to the rear and sides, practically non-existent. To our rear, the surviving AMTRAC squads had been joined by heavier support."

"Heavier support? You mean the tank platoon?"

"Yes Ma'am."

**xxviiixx**

**"What was happening with Dodge?"** Harm handed the man half of his MRE. Private First Class Jack Rogers, one of the few survivors of the first AMTRAC ambushed, eagerly attacked the food. Harm's vegetarian tendencies made him an unlikely fan of any meat products, but he especially detested corned beef and the way Rogers tore into it. PFC Rogers, noting the Commander's look of shock, became self-conscious and wiped his mouth carefully before continuing his story.

"Lieutenant Dodge's AMTRAC was taking a beating and the Gunny, Lukens and Buell along with the rest of the survivors were shooting anything that moved and I guess that's when it happened."

**xxviiixx**

**"Did you see Lieutenant Dodge go down?"** Bud studied Sergeant Kyle Sewett, Commander of Rover Two. Because of his position during the battle, he was able to see most of what happened.

"Yes Sir, I saw him straighten up and then fall over in his hatch."

**xxviiixx**

**"Did you get a clear view of who shot him?"** Private First Class Adam Secord nodded his head. Mac's witness list indicated that PFC Secord had been one of the men to join Gunny Sanchez in their charge toward the enemy positions.

"Lukens and Buell Sir, …er, I mean, Ma'am – they had their guns drawn and pointed towards him. Everyone else had their guns drawn toward the enemy."

"Are you certain about this Private? It seems to me there were a lot of people firing; anyone of them could have hit the Lieutenant."

"Possibly Ma'am, but only Lukens and Buell had their guns pointed at the AMTRAC."

-TBC…


	10. Chapter 9

**...For Meritorious Service, Chapter XI**

**AN: A test of your reading skills – to keep from drawing out the witness interviews any more than necessary, I did a series of 'quick cuts' so to speak, on relevant witnesses. Sorry if this causes any confusion, all will be resolved shortly...**

**"Are you absolutely certain, Corporal?"** Lance Corporal Seth Grearson had been another AMTRAC survivor. Bud was told to interview this man who was with the

Corpsman and saw the shooting.

"Yes Sir." Answered Grearson in a no-nonsense manner.

"I'm having a little trouble believing no one else could have accidentally shot the Lieutenant or that the gunfire could not have come from the enemy."

"Look Sir, at least a dozen men witnessed Lieutenants Lukens and Buell firing not once at Dodge, Sir; but three times."

_He's sure convinced that Lukens and Buell did this._ Bud thought as he wrote down the man's statement. _Could he be right?_

**xxxixx**

**"How close were you Sergeant?"** Sergeant Paul Colwell had been another one of the few surviving squad members from the destroyed AMTRACs.

"At the most, 15 yards away, Sir." He paused for a moment. "I know he did it, Sir."

Sturgis Turner looked at Sergeant Colwell for a long moment, trying to gauge whether or not the man was lying. It was tough, just as it had been with all the others today. The conviction was there and the usual tale-tell signs of not telling the truth were not. If he and the others were lying, it was well rehearsed. _But then they've had since March to get this down right…_ the preacher's son thought grimly.

"How well do you know Lieutenants Lukens and Buell?"

"Very well Commander – we've been in this outfit together since Kosovo. Lukens is kind of hot headed-"

"Hot headed?" The Bubblehead repeated. As he did, the former sub officer underlined the word before looking up at Colwell's face.

Colwell though, wasn't flustered by this JAG's sudden attention to him. In fact, he had planned it this way. "Yes Sir. He flies off the handle too easily sometimes."

**xxxixx**

**"I see, and how well did he know Lieutenant Dodge?" **Mac found Corporal Jack Keller to be more open than most people about Dodge and Lukens. In fact some would say he was quite animated about it.

"Very well Ma'am; they had bumped heads more than once."

"By bumping heads you mean-"

-like the old nature documentaries showing two big rams running toward each other and then 'ka-whaam' they collide head on – uh, that kind of bumping heads, Ma'am."

**xxxixx**

**"Did it ever degenerate into fist fights?"** Sturgis Turner made a note that Corporal Stan Lovett worked in the MEU mess and had witnessed several of Dodge and Lukens's altercations.

"Almost Sir. A couple of times, some vicious name calling – but it always stopped before it got to that level."

"Who stopped it?"

"His Weapons Officer a couple of times and Lieutenant Hawkins and Captain Lewis each did at least once."

**xxxixx**

**"Any punishment?"** Harm was facing Major Barnett's aide and the MEU Staff Judge Advocate, Captain Floyd Johnson. Johnson had been fairly helpful since they arrived, but getting this first hand interview might reveal something that hadn't been in the paper reports. He wasn't disappointed.

"They each took a couple of hits on their fitness reports and Lukens got Office Hours after one fight."

"When was their last fight?"

"About twenty four hours before Lieutenant Dodge's death."

"What were these fights about?"

"Dodge had married and divorced Lukens's younger sister and there was bad blood between the two men because of it."

_Married and divorced?_ That certainly hadn't been in any of the reports up to this point. Something else that had come out of these interviews was that Dodge had recently converted to Islam which probably didn't sit well with some of the men in the unit. Harm knew he had to follow up on this since very few if any Muslims 'marry and divorce'.

**xxxixx**

**Mac entered the tent of Captain Jac Lewis**. He was seated at a cardboard table signing off on after action reports.

The Captain looked up at her and stood at attention. Mac nodded and motioned for him to sit back down. The man did.

"Colonel MacKenzie, how is the investigation going?"

"As well as can be expected at this point, Captain." She sat down in front of him and opened her pad. "I need to ask you a few questions…"

He smiled disarmingly. "Fire away."

She got right to the point. "How long had Lukens and Dodge been fighting?"

"Too long really." Her eyebrows shot up at this comment.

"About six months," he clarified. She nodded and wrote that down on her pad along with a couple of other notes about the Captain.

"And there was a re-assignment being made?"

"For Dodge, yeah. I had to get him out of this unit – Dodge's constant bickering with Lukens, in-law or no in-law, was driving down unit morale. Lieutenant Dodge was otherwise a good officer and Lukens in any other MEU besides ours would probably go far. I wanted to give him that opportunity and then the war broke out-"

Mac finished his thought for him. "…And when the war broke out and they settled into an uneasy truce at your insistence."

"Yes Colonel, and it worked…for a while. You see, Lukens always had a problem with Dodge's popularity especially with the women and junior officers. He always said the man was full of hot air, pompous-"

"Egotistical , self-centered." Mac finished for him again.

"Uh, Yeah," the Captain added a little taken aback. "Remind you of someone you know, Ma'am?"

"A couple of people spring to mind, Captain" she said clinically, not looking up from her notes. "Please continue."

He recovered, and moved on. "Anyway Colonel, this popularity was especially grating on Lukens where it concerned women."

She stopped and looked up for a moment. "Go on."

"Well, he was always able to strike up a friendly relationship with personnel wherever he went."

"I see." Mac looked at her notes for a moment while holding the end of her pen in her mouth. "What about the last fight; and what was it about?"

"Lukens came into the Officer's mess area and accused Dodge of fooling around on his sister while they were still married."

Mac stopped writing again and looked at the Captain. "Who had Dodge supposedly been fooling around with?"

"His current wife Ma'am, an Afghan refugee."

The Colonel tried not to show her surprise. No one else up to this point had mentioned that Dodge had married an Afghan refugee. "Was he?"

"Lieutenant Dodge didn't admit it, but he didn't deny it either. Dodge told him it was none of his business – Lukens went ballistic."

Mac's smirk made the Captain respond. "Look Ma'am, Dodge was always able to strike up a friendly relationship with female personnel wherever he went."

_Hmm, defensive. Let's see if there is anything here. _"Any sexual misconduct?"

"No Ma'am." _Okay, dead end there…._

"Fraternization?"

"None. Colonel, he was a real boy scout-some in the unit didn't buy it, though. Especially Lukens – I guess."

Mac didn't like his answer. "You guess, Captain? Come on, surely there's more to this than you're telling me."

Jac Lewis wiped his brow obviously feeling the heat. "You, um, read about the threat?"

"Yes I did, tell me, Captain, do you think Lieutenant Lukens killed Lieutenant Dodge?"

"He lunged at Dodge, but Buell caught him and dragged him back. Very few other men had such a motive and opportunity – there were some, though."

_He's been coy up to this point, now he seems eager to point the finger at Lukens. I wonder why?_ "Could you get me their names please?"

"Sure Colonel – as I was saying, few had such a good motive and opportunity. Lukens was very protective of his sister."

_He's really pushing that point. Let's see how married he is to it._ "You didn't answer my earlier question: Do you think he did it?"

Captain Lewis looked at the Marine Lieutenant Colonel for a long moment. The silence was deafening.

"No Ma'am. Lukens is a hot-head, but he's not a killer."

_Okay, so he backed off when pressed for an answer. The question is why? Let's see if I can lure him out_." Even though the initial investigating team found the 9mm bullets matched his gun…."

"Those could have been planted or anyone could have dropped those casings. Lukens didn't do this – I suggest you go interrogate our Al-Qaeda and Iraqi guests. I'd sooner believe they did it before any of our own men, Colonel."

_Wow that was a switch! One moment he's practically insinuating that Lukens did the deed and when I lean that way he does everything he can to sway me from it. Okay Captain, I'm keeping my eyes on you…._"Thank you Captain, I will."

Captain Jac Lewis dropped his defensive stance and smiled as he shook the Colonel's hand. "Good luck Colonel – and keep in mind the area where Dodge was killed was unsecured for at least two hours."

Mac smiled right back at him. "I will Captain but I will also keep in mind at least a dozen men saw the shooting and the bullets taken from Dodge's body match Lukens's gun." _Let's see what he thinks about that comment._

Lewis' eyes narrowed. "I trust the men of this unit, Colonel. Will that be all?"

_I am definitely keeping my eye on you, Captain._

**xxxixx**

**"What happened then?"** Going up the chain of command, Captain Adrian Sebastian, Commander of the Wildcats – HMLA-975, the 36th ACE's Helicopter, Light Attack Unit, was the next logical choice for Sturgis to interview, especially since he conducted Lukens's Office Hours.

The nurse had given the Commander twenty minutes to conduct his interview and then he had to get out. She would not have him making her patient worse. Sturgis picked a few select questions which no one else seemed to be able to give a satisfactory answer to – at least in his mind.

"Dodge told him to cool down – that just infuriated Lukens more – he told Dodge that he had 'plugged his last cutie' and that he would make him pay. Excuse me, Sir-"

The Captain, still recovering from pneumonia, lapsed into a fit of violent, hoarse coughing. Sturgis grabbed some tissues and gave them to the man, who cleared his throat into them.

"Uh, thanks," the man said weakly. The former Bubblehead nodded. He knew he had little time left. The nurse told him no more than thirty minutes at most. The questions he had asked of this man did shed some light on this murky case, but nothing earth shattering. He had to make his last question count.

"'Plugged his last cutie' Those were his exact words? Did he say how?"

Captain Sebastian seemed to summon all of his strength for this answer. "No Sir; not directly. The look in his eyes though, it was enough to chill anybody's blood."

_A look to chill anybody's blood, huh? Lukens may be guilty after all._

**xxxixx**

**Harm was furiously taking notes.** "Tell me more about the Gunny's run in with Lieutenant Dodge."

"Well Sir, it was after our last tour, just before Iraqi Freedom started," continued the Lance Corporal, "The Gunny's wife is a real looker."

Harm smiled at the comment. "Pretty, Corporal?"

The man knew he was with a buddy. He winked. "Very, Sir – anyway she came to our disembarking in a very revealing dress."

Harm stopped writing to make the man divulge more. "How revealing?"

"More skin than cloth Sir, we'd been on deployment for long time. I don't think there was a man in the unit that wasn't staring at her."

"Like everybody that could see her?"

"Yes Sir."

"Go on."

"Anyway, she comes up to Lieutenant Dodge and makes a big deal about how he helped her change a flat tire before leaving for overseas duty."

"And how did the Gunny react?"

"He broke from the ranks and threatened to beat the Lieutenant to death."

_Looks like we have another suspect…._ "And how long ago was this Lance Corporal?"

"Last October, Sir,"

"Do you think he meant it?"

"The Gunny was plenty mad, Sir. Only when Captain Lewis stepped in did the Gunny back down."

"Do you think he could have killed Lieutenant Dodge?"

"If it had taken place that day? Yes Sir, without a doubt."

"And how about on 23 March?"

"I'm not sure Sir, the Gunny and his wife made up, but he and Lieutenant Dodge gave each other a wide berth for months Sir."

"Thanks for your help, Lance Corporal."

"Aye, aye, Sir."

**1642 Local_1342 Zulu  
>VOQ, Camp Chesty Puller<br>Near Mirbullah, Iraq**

**Sturgis and Bud sat on their bunks** were discussing what they had found out so far.

"Read to me again what they said Bud." Sturgis asked.

Bud looked through his notes. "Uh,'You have to understand their relationship, it was never amicable. There was always an undercurrent of tension between these two – they were like…gasoline and dynamite.'"

Sturgis shook his head. "'Gasoline and dynamite' that's a pretty potent combination…."

"Yes Sir. Bud found the place in his notes he had been searching for. It says Lukens requested a transfer to another Marine aviation unit…."

"But that it was too late and then combat operations against Iraq broke out."

Sturgis looked thoughtfully at Bud. "I think we should proceed as separate teams after today. How do you feel about this, Bud?"

Bud shrugged. "Well Sir, I've been trying to keep myself neutral-"

"If that is a problem Lieutenant," Rumbled the former submarine officer, "Maybe you should request-"

Bud quickly cut him off. "No Sir; that is not a problem. If you decide to prosecute, I will work with you, Sir."

The preacher's son crossed his arms and looked pointedly at the Lieutenant. "Do you really think you can do this? Given your feelings concerning the firearm and your theory about who it might belong to?"

Bud was adamant. "It not a matter of whether I can or not; I will Sir. It's important for the government to have a strong case and three against one isn't fair."

Sturgis Turner smiled his first genuine smile in a long while. "Thank you, Bud."

Bud cautiously returned the smile. "You're welcome, Sir."

-TBC…


	11. Chapter 10

…**For Meritorious Service, Chapter X**

**1650 Local_1350 Zulu  
>VOQ, Camp Chesty Puller<br>Near Mirbullah, Iraq**

**As Harm and Mac walked into the guest quarters' barracks,** they saw Sturgis and Bud comparing notes, based on the day's interviews. Bud had his laptop open and was busy inputting their notes into the machine. Harm pulled off his helmet, as he stepped into the room.

Both men looked up from their work at the Commander.

He laid his helmet on the bed. "How did it go today?"

As Sturgis started to speak, Mac came in pulling off her boonie hat, shaking the dust out of it.

"How did the interviews go today?"

Sturgis smiled as did Bud. "Harm was just asking me about that, Mac." She had the decency to look chagrined. The Commander bent his head to keep his smirk from showing. Both of them took a seat on nearby empty bunk.

"As I was getting ready to tell Harm, they went great, if you think Buell and Lukens are guilty of murder."

Mac and Harm exchanged wry looks. Bud looked curiously at the two senior officers. "How about yours, Ma'am, Sir?"

"Great Bud," deadpanned Mac, "If you think Buell and Lukens are guilty."

"That doesn't sound too good Ma'am."

"No Bud, replied Mac shaking her head ruefully, It doesn't."

The Lieutenant looked at his former mentor for some sign of hope. "Sir? Do you think they're guilty?"

"Not a chance, Bud." shot back Harm. Bud began to grin.

He glanced at Mac. "Colonel?"

Mac shook her head. "There's too much that doesn't add up. These guys didn't do it."

"That's what I thought you two would say," replied Sturgis straight-faced.

Mac smiled wanly as she got up and walked over the room's ice cooler. She pulled out several chilled plastic bottles of water and walked back to the bunks, giving one to Harm and the others to Bud and Sturgis. She opened hers and took a quick drink, eyeing Commander Turner. "Sturgis, have you been to the battle site yet?"

"At Mirbullah?" Sturgis, who had been lying on the bed reclined against the wall, sat up and answered honestly. "No. Why?"

Harm looked at his own notes. "Maybe we should…."

Sturgis got up off his bunk. "What are you getting at, Buddy?"

Harm got up "Just a theory that I have. What are you two doing tomorrow?"

Sturgis smirked. "Going with you to disprove a theory." Mac shook her head, chuckling.

After a quick knock, a Corporal stuck his head in the door. "Ma'am, Sirs, the Colonel requests your presence at the communications building. He has Admiral Chegwidden via a secure teleconference link."

The four attorneys glanced at each other for a moment exchanging questioning looks as to why the Admiral would want to talk to them. They followed the Corporal out of the barracks and toward the MEU communications facility.

The JAG lawyers and computer technician sat at a table in front of one video monitor. The stern image of AJ Chegwidden could be seen on the other end with Tiner in the background. Ashton Briggs stood, arms folded, in the back of the semi-darkened room.

"Good evening, Commander." The image was unbroken with only a few momentary pauses. Considering the distance covered, the quality was remarkably good.

Harm greeted the image of his commanding officer. "Good morning Admiral,"

He acknowledged the others, then turned his attention back to Harm. "Commander, what's the status of your investigation?"

Harm looked for a moment at the others before answering his commanding officer. "Well Admiral, so far we only have a few eyewitness accounts. We're in the process of wrapping up our witness interviews."

"What have you found so far?" pressed his commanding officer.

Harm wasn't sure why he was so keenly interested, but decided to give him what he had so far. "It's mostly circumstantial evidence against the two helo pilots, Sir. We're going out tomorrow to the battle site to get a first-hand view of where the alleged murder took place."

AJ Chegwidden seemed to consider what Harmon Rabb had reported thus far. "Commander, I'm getting some very strange reports from Colonel Briggs about your methods and those of your team."

"What kind of reports Admiral?" Harm was clearly confused and a little concerned. Maybe Lukens had decided to report him after all.

"Colonel Briggs says he's had some reports from his junior officers that you are coercing testimony, bullying witnesses, failing to follow procedure…."

"Sir?" Harm couldn't believe what he was hearing. The words that the Admiral spoke to him just before he left for the CIA Air Corps flashed through his mind.

Mac fought down the urge to whirl around in her chair and face that smug SOB standing behind them. She just knew he had a self-satisfied smile on his face. Instead, she leapt to the Commander's defense.

"Admiral, this is insane-"

The Admiral fixed her with an equally hard stare, savagely cutting her off. "Colonel, the charges against you are even less flattering; solicitation, conduct unbecoming, bribery-"

Bud's face was contorted with disbelief as he leaped to his feet. "Sir, Admiral, this is crazy-"

"Lieutenant, if I were you, I'd stand down, now! AJ's barked order caused Bud Roberts to freeze in place. It was obvious he was torn between defending his two friends and following the Admiral's orders.

"Aye Sir." he said stiffly, his voice barely concealed his anger and contempt as he slowly sat back down.

AJ lifted his eyes beyond the stunned attorneys sitting around the table. "Ash, I need to talk to my attorneys in private for a few moments if you don't mind."

"Not at all AJ, not at all. I completely understand." He motioned to his technician and both men left the room.

Harm felt as if someone had just socked him in the gut when he wasn't looking. Lukens had turned him in but he told the man he was going to fight for him. _What the hell is going on here?_

For her part, Mac saw the Admiral on screen, but if he was saying anything, she couldn't hear it for roar of the blood in her ears. She looked over at Bud, who was genuinely upset. Sturgis' face, rather than having its usual stoic demeanor, was showing disgust.

Mac turned back to face the Admiral. If it earned her a DDO, then maybe it was time to leave JAG. "Admiral, we've been set up, this is-"

AJ smiled paternally at Mac. "I know Colonel." That threw her off kilter. She sat silently looking at the screen, perplexed.

Harm did a double take. "You do, Sir?"

"Of course I do, Rabb. That's why I had Colonel Briggs, and his technician, leave the room."

Bud let his frustration get the best of him. "Sir, what the hell is going on?!"

AJ looked in stunned surprise at the Lieutenant. Harm, Mac and Sturgis looked on in shock at Bud. For his part, Bud realized what he had done. "Sorry Admiral."

AJ continued to keep his eyes on Bud as he talked to Harm. "Commander, I would not have sent you, Colonel MacKenzie, Commander Turner or Lieutenant Roberts, if I thought any of you would be capable of these offenses."

The four attorneys began smiling. "Wipe those smiles off your faces."

"Aye Sir," they responded crisply.

"Commander, I want you and your team to get to the bottom of what is going on over there. It's clear that Colonel Briggs is hiding something. Find out what it is, but do it quietly. You have my full backing."

For the second time since Harm had returned to JAG, he wasn't sure what this man wanted from him "Admiral what is it you want me to do?"

AJ smiled warmly at his aviator/attorney. He knew why he was asking this question – it had been a long hard year for both of them. "Do what you do best, Rabb."

"Then Sir, I'll need some stateside help. We have some witnesses there that we need interviewed."

"Consider it done, Commander. Send me a fax list of those people."

He wasn't expecting this kind of response or support, from his commanding officer. It threw him as off balance, as it had Mac, who was still silent. "Aye Sir." he paused for a moment, "Thank you, Sir."

Admiral Chegwidden smiled again. "You're welcome Commander. Anything else?"

"No Sir," he answered honestly.

The Admiral looked over at Bud. "Lieutenant Roberts, you can tell the Colonel it is all right now for him to rejoin our meeting."

Bud got up from the table and headed for the door. As he did, Mac leaned over whispered into Harm's ear "See, I told you the Admiral had forgiven you."

Just before Bud opened the door, the Admiral smiled at his lead investigator. "I trust your acting skills are up to snuff Commander,"

Harm nodded understanding the Admiral's plan. "Absolutely Sir," On cue, Bud opened the door and headed back to his seat.

"Because you are without a doubt the stupidest jet jock I have ever had the misfortune to work with!"

"Aye Sir," Harm said a tad sullenly. "I take it I'm not a team player either, Sir."

AJ knew what he was driving at. It stung, a little, but it fit the act. "Don't push it, Commander!"

Mac turned to see Colonel Briggs returning. He seemed to enjoy the Admiral's last comment aimed at Harm.

"Colonel!"

Mac whipped around trying her best to look unsettled, "Yes Sir?" she gulped.

"It would be in your best interest to get your mind on your work!"

"Yes Sir!" Mac became rigid, fear showing in her features.

"I will not tolerate another report like the one I just received about your behavior! You're a Marine dammit! It's time for you to start acting like one!"

"Aye, aye, Sir!"

He shot a look of fury at Sturgis Turner and Bud Roberts. "As for you two! You both are one more report away from brig time! Do you two numbskulls read me?"

"Aye Sir!" they both barked.

Mac could hear Briggs chuckling in the background.

AJ looked contritely at the Commander of the 36th MEU. "Ash, I'm sorry you had to witness this-"

"I know AJ, we all have people under us who need a firmer hand than others. Just get them to wrap this up soon, okay?"

The Admiral looked over his half-glasses at the man. "Commander, you heard him; I need you to speed it up-"

Harm leaned closer, "May I ask why, Sir?"

The Admiral was glad Colonel Briggs had not witnessed their other interactions, otherwise this act might not have worked. "I told you before Commander. The SecNav along with a few other high ranking officers as well as some diplomats are breathing down my neck about this one." AJ said gruffly as he looked down at his papers, mirroring his attitude immediately Harm and Mac went to the Chaco Boreal. "Wrap it up as soon as you can."

Harm decided to ham it up. "But Admiral, these men deserve-"

"Commander Rabb," Chegwidden growled, fixing the junior officer with baleful expression, "Is there something wrong with your hearing? Did I not make myself clear a few minutes earlier?"

Harm looked appropriately chastened. "Yes Sir, you did-"

"Then, *what* is your problem?"

The pregnant pause that followed did not please AJ Chegwidden. "Commander?"

"Ah, well, Admiral we may not be able-"

"Well then 'get able' Commander," he snapped, "That's an order!"

"Sir," Bud decided to step in. "We need as much time as you can give us. Our witnesses are pretty scattered across the area-"

"Lieutenant! Everyone from the SecNav on down wants this expedited! So get it done!"

Bud remembering his early days under the Admiral, and brought out the right amount of uncertainty to his faltering voice. "Uh, Yes Sir-"

"I know you'll do the best you can, Lieutenant." He said talking to Bud as if he were a little slow. "You have until noon tomorrow, your time."

"That doesn't leave us much time…Sir," interjected Sturgis Turner in an appropriately insubordinate tone.

Chegwidden flinched. "Commander Turner, your father may be a Chaplain, but if you use that tone with me one more time, I'll supervise your ass right out of JAG, do you read me?"

Sturgis stiffened as if he had his hand smacked with a ruler. "Loud and clear, Sir."

"Sir?" Now it was Mac's turn to ham it up.

"What is *it*, Colonel?" AJ's exasperation with his officers was so genuine, Sarah MacKenzie wondered for a split second if they had overplayed their parts.

Mac decided to make her arguments more rational, just make the tone more accusatory than normal. "Admiral, we'd be *denying* these men due process. We really just need a little more time-"

But the Admiral was "not in the mood" to hear rational arguments. "Well Colonel," he said with uncharacteristic sarcasm directed at her. "You have all the time that I can *spare*."

She tried to look surprised. "Sir?"

"You heard me Colonel; you have until 1200 Zulu tomorrow." He readjusted his glasses and began gathering his papers together indicating his mind was made up. "My hands are tied. Get it wrapped up as soon as you can-"

Mac looked in the back of the room and could see a faint smile cross Briggs's face. She turned back to the screen, a sly smile crossing her face. "Sir, you know as well as we do that we have an obligation to investigate this matter as *completely* as we can."

That comment and the slight smile on her face made AJ throttle back. "Okay, I'm *listening* Colonel…."

Harm decided this was a good time to jump in. "Sir, if you'll give us until 1600 Zulu tomorrow, I promise you that we can complete this investigation."

"Completely and thoroughly, Commander?" The Admiral didn't sound 'convinced'.

"Completely and thoroughly, Sir."

He looked to Colonel MacKenzie for verification. "Well Colonel?"

What she said warmed the Commander's heart. Even if it was just acting. "If the Commander says we can do it by 1600 Hours Zulu, I believe him, Sir."

Chegwidden turned to Sturgis and Bud. "Commander, Lieutenant, do you agree with this assessment?"

Bud and Sturgis exchanged brief looks, and then faced the screen. The expressions on their faces indicated they were siding with Harm. "Yes Sir, we should be able to conclude our interviews by that time."

"Okay Commander, I'll run interference for you, this time, but I want a report emailed to me by 1600 and I want a verbal assessment by 1500."

All four stood at attention. "Aye Sir!"

"Dismissed." AJ fixed his eyes on Harm. "Oh, and Commander…."

"Yes Admiral?"

The Admiral smiled. "That's 1600 sharp. Any later and I'll throw you into the brig."

Mac spoke up. "Don't worry Sir; I'll make sure he gets it to you on time."

AJ smiled thinly. "I knew I could count on you, Colonel."

"Thank you, Sir."

"1600 Commander."

"Aye Sir."

The image of Admiral Chegwidden froze and then the screen faded to black.

Mac turned and shot a dirty look at the Bird Colonel. "You set us up."

Colonel Briggs smirked now that he knew these four were screwups, they'd be much easier to handle. "Careful Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie, I merely suggested to several people that this was taking longer than it should. Especially since you all admit that most of the evidence that you have at this point is circumstantial."

Harm bristled. "That's going to change Colonel-"

"If it happens Commander," Briggs sneered, "I'll be pleasantly surprised. Good evening gentlemen, ma'am. Try to stay out of trouble."

Mac stared murderously at the closing door as Briggs left the room. "I'm really starting to hate that man."

Sturgis looked at the closing door as Briggs left the room. "Mac, I couldn't have said it better. But to keep from getting ourselves in deeper trouble, let's just get out of here and back to our barracks."

The four JAG attorneys shared looks about the man, nodding in agreement and then got up and left the room.

**2020 Local_0020 Zulu  
>JAG Headquarters<br>Falls Church, Virginia**

**Jason Tiner, Harriet Sims and Jennifer Coates were sitting** in chairs arranged around Admiral Chegwidden's desk. He sat at the polished oak desk looking at a report. Nodding his satisfaction at their agreeing to stay this late, he looked up at the three junior officers. "Make sure a copy of this report is available to any overseas office that requests it."

He handed the report to Lieutenant Sims. She opened it and took a quick scan, "But Sir, this is a copy of Commander Lindsey's report-"

"I'm aware of that Lieutenant," said AJ quickly before she could say anything else. "Take the copy I have given you and make sure that Commander Manetti's name replaces his in all the appropriate places. The Commander will be by early tomorrow morning to sign off on this report."

Jason spoke for the first time. "Commander Manetti, Sir? What does she have to do with this?"

The Admiral sighed; sometimes he wished his staff weren't so inquisitive. "We need a cover story to corroborate the behavior of Commander Rabb and the rest of the investigative team in Mirbullah. Commander Manetti is helping us out."

This time Jennifer spoke up. "Begging the Admiral's pardon, but why do they need this? What is going on over there?"

AJ should have known this wasn't going to be easy with three of his most persistent and meddlesome staff members involved. They sat looking at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. He could try to brush them off, but that would only make them more determined to find out what was happening. With Harriet Sims, Jason Tiner and Jennifer Coates involved, AJ knew he didn't have any other choice but to let them know what he knew.

"The Commander and his team have uncovered more than just a murder in their investigation." Concern crossed the faces of the three young officers. "There's been interference and improper command influence in the investigation from higher ups in the chain of command."

"How high up Sir?"

_Tiner, sometimes you are as bad as Commander Rabb, about sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong._ Thought AJ sourly.

"The MEU Commander is involved, and there is evidence his staff may be as well."

Now it was Harriet's turn. "Are Commander Rabb and his team in any danger Sir?"

_She really wanted to ask if Bud is in any danger_. "Not at this time, Lieutenant. I'm hoping that by making Lindsey's report available as Manetti's report, that it will keep them safe long enough to find the culprits in this case. The Commanders and the others are pretending to be loose cannons hoping to lure out the real killer or killers. The report will confirm their actions if anyone should decide to investigate."

The three of them looked at each other, and then turned back to the Admiral. "How can we help Sir?" AJ smiled at Jen's eagerness to help out. _You'll make a good officer someday, Coates_.

"The Commander and his team need some help locating witnesses here in the states."

"All of them are here, fortunately, in either North Carolina or Virginia. Lieutenant Sims, Petty Officer Tiner, you two will work with Commanders Mattoni and Imes on their cases. The idea is to keep up the appearance that its business as usual here. The cases they have are fairly routine, but you two could benefit from the experience since you haven't been doing as much work in that area lately."

Tiner looked at Jen and Harriet. "Sir, who else is going to help the Mirbullah investigative team?" It was clear that Jen, no matter how good she was, couldn't help both teams - especially now since it looked like this case would turn into at least an Article 32 hearing, if not more.

"Petty Officer Coates will help Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie; I have requested a paralegal from the Pentagon to help Commander Turner and Lieutenant Roberts."

Jennifer sat forward on her chair, clearly interested that another person was going to be involved in this case. Especially, someone who had not worked at JAG before and was coming in from the Pentagon. "Who is it Sir?"

AJ smiled and pressed his intercom button. "Sergeant Givers will you step in here a moment?"

"Sergeant Marla Givers is in Marine Corps intelligence, specializing in the profiling of Al-Qaeda operatives, she comes highly recommended by her senior officers."

All three turned and greeted the Sergeant. Her short hairstyle was similar to Colonel MacKenzie's, except that her hair was jet black. Her Class A uniform sported a number of campaign ribbons and badges. She came to attention in front of them.

"At ease Sergeant." Marla assumed a parade rest stance.

"Sergeant Givers has seen combat duty in Afghanistan, Pakistan, Yemen and Iraq."

"Combat duty in Pakistan and Yemen?" asked Harriet. Her and Jason's clearance level wasn't as high as Bud's so information of this kind was news to her.

"Temporarily Assigned Duty," Marla turned her green eyes to meet Jason's. She smiled at his obviously appreciative stare. "It's classified."

Jason turned red and looked away when he noticed she had noticed his unabashed staring. "I see."

Jennifer had also noticed the exchange and decided to put a stop to it before it progressed any further. She smiled sweetly at Marla. "I take it that it was hazardous," She gave Jason a quick, surreptitious, jab in the ribs.

"Ow! Jen?" Jason rubbed the spot where she had elbowed him.

"Petty Officer!" barked Chegwidden, "Is there something going on here I should know about?"

"No Sir," answered Jennifer in a matter of fact voice, her eyes wide with mock innocence. "My arm slipped," Harriet looked at the young Petty Officer with a mixture of sympathy and amusement.

AJ cleared his throat keeping his eyes on Jason and Jen for moment longer before returning to his briefing. "Getting back to the matter at hand, then. Sergeant Givers will work with Lieutenant Roberts and Commander Turner. Her combat experience in Iraq will help with this case."

Jason was clearly impressed with her. "Where were you stationed in Iraq, Sergeant Givers?"

"I was with 1st Marines; we helped rescue the remnants of the 507th Maintenance Company at Al Nasiriyah."

Jennifer looked skeptically at her. "I thought you were a paralegal."

"Rifleman first, paralegal second." Marla explained automatically. She stopped and smiled "Sorry. They called people from my office for combat duty in Iraq."

AJ cleared his throat. Why did he always feel like he was riding a surfboard in a minefield when dealing with his staff? At least this group seemed to be a little easier to handle than the Colonel and the Commander. "Now that the general introductions are out of the way, you two should get started interviewing eyewitnesses."

Both women came to attention. "Aye Sir." Jen and Marla looked at each other, then they both walked toward the door. Marla stood at the door for a moment and then walked out followed by Jen.

He cast a glance at the other two junior officers. "As for you two, report to Mattoni and Imes first thing tomorrow morning, and find out what kind of help they need. Dismissed."

Harriet and Jason stood up and came to attention. "Aye Sir."

**2150 Local_1850 Zulu  
>VOQ, Camp Chesty Puller<br>Near Mirbullah, Iraq**

**Mac shook her head and chuckled**, as she left the three discussing their theories. She didn't want to hear the rest. The day's events had been tiring enough. As they continued their discussion, she headed outside. Mac walked out, away from the barracks into the darkened countryside, and stopped staring up at the endless night sky. It reminded her of her nights at Red Rock Mesa; sometimes she really missed seeing the sky like this. A soft sigh escaped from her lips as she scanned the sea of stars.

"Pretty isn't it?"

"What?" The voice startled her. She wasn't expecting anyone else to be out here.

"The night sky – the stars…." explained the voice. Mac tried to see who it was speaking.

"Lieutenant Colonel Ronald Glover," the voice offered.

"Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie."

"Haven't seen you around here before, Colonel," noted the voice. Mac wished she could see his face, but this part of the compound was so dark, it was difficult to see facial features.

"I'm with the JAG Corps." Mac explained.

"Oh, so you're here investigating Lieutenant Dodge's murder, aren't you?" inquired the voice.

"Yes." A simple question deserved a simple answer.

"I'm with S-2, the MEU's intel shop." It explained. If that was done to make Mac feel more comfortable, it only partially worked.

"Oh," replied Mac nonchalantly trying to feign disinterest. She went back to staring at the night sky. In reality, she was cursing herself as to be so dumb as to walk out into the darkness away from their barracks, inviting trouble. If she weren't so exhausted from lack of sleep, maybe she wouldn't have done this.

"Colonel?" the S-2's voice interrupted her internal recriminations.

"Yes Colonel?" she replied warily. Right now, Mac really wished Sturgis or Bud or even Harm would come looking for her. _No such luck…._

"There's really no reason to investigate this…." Glover's voice seemed patronizing

She decided to play along for now, even though her anger was building. "Why not?"

"Lukens and Buell are guilty." Glover said matter of factly.

"Oh? And how can you be so sure?" Mac replied. She wanted to know if this intel officer really knew what he was talking about.

"Well," he began defensively, "The circumstantial evidence itself is pretty damning-"

"-the key word Colonel," Mac emphasized a little too strongly not only to get her point across but to indicate her irritation with this man, "Is 'circumstantial'."

But that didn't seem to faze Colonel Glover. He moved closer to her, his form partially revealed she could see a face but it was still partially hidden in the darkness. "-and there are several key eyewitnesses…." He continued.

She had an answer for that one too. "-eyewitnesses can be deceived into believing things that aren't true."

"You're not going to win this one, Colonel MacKenzie." His eyes showed a cold dead stare she hadn't noticed before. In the heat of the argument with this man, she had forgotten that he might be a threat to her. She quickly decided to try the sympathy card.

"Colonel Glover, these men deserve a fair hearing and a chance for their side of the story to be told."

He wasn't buying it. "Spare me Colonel; I've heard it before-"

Forgetting the precariousness of her situation, Mac started to get heated again. "Well maybe you haven't heard it enough-"

His voice became threatening. "Colonel, you need to be more careful-"

This time, Mac wasn't buying it. She wasn't going to be intimidated by this phantom of the MEU. "Are you threatening me, Colonel Glover?"

His words of concern did not match the coldness of his voice. The effect made her feel as if she were a mouse talking to a hungry cat. "I'm just saying be careful; this is still a hostile country, filled with people unfriendly to the United States. Soldiers die in this country almost every day—I'm just saying you should…exercise caution."

He suddenly shifted his attention away from her. "As for us, the sooner we can get back to our business and stop screwing around out here…the better."

Sarah MacKenzie couldn't resist trying to tweak his conscience. "Even at the cost of two innocent lives?"

His icy, ironic response was not what she expected. "No one is innocent in war Colonel MacKenzie, have a good night. Think about what I've said."

Before Mac could say anything else, he disappeared into the shadows. She blinked for a moment trying to see if this had been a hallucination. Deciding that he hadn't been, she hurried back to the barracks, thankful she hadn't been killed, and fuming at man's threats.

-TBC…


	12. Chapter 11

…**For Meritorious Service, Chapter XI**

**"—no way, Sir," responded Bud to Harm's unheard question**. The talk died when Mac stormed the room.

"Mac?" Harm knew something was up from the look in her eyes. "What happened out there?"

She did her best to keep her cool. "I just had a very enlightening talk with one Lieutenant Colonel Glover from the 36th MEU's intelligence unit." All three lawyers could tell it was a half-hearted attempt at best. The apparently furious Lieutenant Colonel began pacing back and forth, clenching and unclenching her hands.

Sturgis and Harm got up off their bunks and walked over toward her trying to calm her and get more out of the Colonel about this encounter. "And? What else did he say Mac?" they said simultaneously. They stopped and looked at each other and then back at the agitated Marine Colonel.

Mac didn't pay any attention to their unintended comedy routine. "—and he told me that both Buell and Lukens were guilty and it was a waste of their time and ours trying to prove they weren't." She continued to pace.

"Oh man," said Bud, closing his laptop.

"Mac, are you sure he said that?" asked Sturgis clearly concerned for her well being.

"He sure as hell did Sturgis." Mac's firm verification was tinged with anger. "He also threatened me."

Harm pinned her with an upset look. "You're kidding right?"

She ignored him. She wasn't going to let him ride off on his white charger to defend her honor. She didn't need anyone, especially him, defending her damned honor. "No Sturgis, I'm not kidding. He told me to be careful, that this was still a hostile country."

"Double entendre?" probed the preacher's son.

She snorted. "I don't think he meant 'it's dangerous out there, take care….'"

"What do you think he meant?"

"I think he meant 'it's dangerous out there' if I 'don't do as he says.'"

Harm had had enough. He grabbed her arm and started toward the door.

She flailed for balance as he practically dragged her along. "Harm! Wait! Wait! Where are we going!" She fought to get her arm free from his iron grip.

The aviator/lawyer turned back to her, his eyes blazing. "Colonel Briggs's office; it's time to put an end to this…."

Mac blasted him. "What? Harm, you can't just go barging over there like Superman and beat him up! He may not even be involved!"

"I'm not letting this go!" He barked at her. "Mac! You've been threatened!"

She rolled her eyes. _Why does he always do this? _"Harm, I can take care of myself! I don't need you or anyone else to play bodyguard for me!"

Sturgis, thinking the two lawyers were about to come to blows decided to play intermediary. "Mac, I agree with Harm, this constitutes a threat, Colonel Briggs should be made aware of this-"

_Sturgis? I usually count on you to be the rational one! _Seeing the situation rapidly spiraling out of her control, she tried logic mixed with sarcasm, usually one of her best control mechanisms. "Will you two listen to yourselves? You two sound like a couple of Neanderthals-"

Bud looked earnestly at Mac. "Ma'am, normally I wouldn't say anything, but a threat has been made against you and we already know this unit is not exactly friendly toward our investigation. We should probably stick together and work in pairs from now on."

He looked at Harm and Sturgis. "And we should inform Colonel Briggs about what is going on, Ma'am."

She looked at Bud and then back at Sturgis and Harm. All three remained resolute, immovable from their current stance with regards to the situation. Mac sighed heavily, but she still had one argument left.

Harm delivered the knockout blow to her intransigence. He looked at her with those deep blue eyes of his, almost pleading. "Mac, he's right; we need to at least address this with Briggs."

Mac stared at Harm. She hated it when he was overprotective, but if Sturgis and more importantly, Bud, thought it was a legitimate threat…she sighed heavily again, reluctantly conceding-knowing she'd have a hard time stopping them – especially Harm. "Okay," she said, uncharacteristically quiet. "Let's go."

The four of them left the building and headed over Briggs's office.

**xxxixx**

**Ashton Briggs was getting ready to turn in** when his yeoman appeared at the door.

He could have ignored the man, but that wouldn't make him go away. "Yes Sergeant?"

"Uh, Sir, the JAG lawyers wish to speak with you…." He trailed off knowing how his commanding officer felt about these legal weenies. The man was uncertain about what would happen next.

Briggs made a face. "I'm getting ready for bed, can't it wait until morning?"

The Sergeant looked uneasy. "Uh, no Sir, they said it was very important to see you, Sir."

Briggs growled, making the Sergeant take an involuntary step backwards. The Colonel began putting his boots back on. "It had better be a goddamned emergency," he muttered.

When the Colonel came out of his bedroom into the front office area, all four attorneys snapped to attention.

"At ease," he said as he waved dismissively at them. "Now what do you four need to speak to me about at this late hour?"

"Colonel, one of your men threatened Colonel MacKenzie!" snapped Harm

Briggs's expression grew hard. "Threatened you? One of my people? When did this happen Colonel?"

Mac glanced sourly at Harm before turning back to face the Colonel. "A few minutes ago outside our quarters."

"Who was it?"

"Lieutenant Colonel Ronald Glover, he's with your intelligence unit."

"Ronald Glover?"

"Yes Sir."

He looked at her incredulously. "Colonel, there isn't a Lieutenant Colonel Ronald Glover, at least not in our intelligence unit."

"Sir, he introduced himself as 'Lieutenant Colonel Glover'."

Harm was doing his best to be civil with this senior officer, but his seemingly casual dismissal made him see red. "Colonel Briggs, I know this doesn't seem very important to you, but someone, impersonating one of your officers, threatened my partner!"

Briggs had had enough of these loose cannons, especially this Tomcat lawyer. "Commander, you are bordering on insubordination!"

Harm wasn't yielding. "Sir that doesn't change the fact that someone is threatening Colonel MacKenzie – someone who thinks Buell and Lukens are guilty!"

Briggs looked at the four as he seemed to chew on this for a moment, then he picked up his telephone. "Jenkins? Send two of your men over here and send another couple to the S-2's building." Briggs, cupping his hand over the receiver, looked back at Mac. "Did you get a good look at the man?"

"No Sir," he stared at her. "It was dark and I could not see his face." She explained somewhat sheepishly.

"You couldn't see his face." He repeated still cupping his hand on the receiver

"No." Mac felt her embarrassment growing. Briggs began shaking his head.

"Well that's certainly going to make it tougher." He finally snorted in disgust as he hung up the phone. "How do you expect us to find him?"

Mac didn't say anything, but she knew two naval Commanders and one Lieutenant that would pay for this. _I wonder what charges would I face if I killed these three idiots right now? I bet I could plead extenuating circumstances and I'd even bet the Admiral would back me…._

Two military policemen appeared at the door of Briggs's office.

"Yes Sir?" Replied the MP Sergeant

"Escort Colonel MacKenzie and the rest of the JAG lawyers over to the intel shop. Let's see if we can find the Colonel's boogie man. I'll be along in a few moments."

The two MP's saluted. "Aye Sir." They motioned to the JAG lawyers "Colonel, Sirs?"

The JAG officers and the MP's headed out of Briggs office into the MEU compound.

**xxxixx**

**"Here Ma'am!"** replied the MP Sergeant, "I found it."

Mac and the others walked over to where MP Sergeant Reynolds was squatting. Using a stick, he held up a rumpled khaki uniform with the name 'Glover' taped across the cloth name badge.

Mac put on a pair of plastic gloves handed to her by the MP and slowly pulled the fabric tape off revealing the name underneath – 'Martin'

"Ma'am, Corporal Martin reported his Class A khaki uniform had disappeared last week."

"Hey Mac," She turned to see Harm holding in his gloved hands a pair of silver oak leaves.

"That explains the uniform," noted Sturgis, "Now whose insignia were those?"

"Lieutenant Colonel Darcy Livingston, Force Recon, Sir." Replied the MP. "She reported them missing from her barracks 48 hours ago."

**xxxixx**

**Lieutenant Colonel Darcy D'Acerville Livingston sat at her desk,** peering at the backlit screen of her laptop. In normal times, Livingston would have never made it this far or even in Force Recon. But these were anything but normal times. The MEU had been pigeonholed here after the near disaster at Mirbullah – they had come flushed with victories in Afghanistan and Pakistan – two major Al-Qaeda bases had been wiped out, earning US intelligence several coups, and Livingston a silver star for gallantry.

But it was never enough for Darcy. Raised in the Louisiana bayous, she was taught from an early age to take care of herself first, and look at every situation from a coldly practical standpoint. When she was young, this blue eyed, raven haired beauty was the belle of the ball. She never let her dates forget they were privileged to go out with her. She used her beauty and intelligence to get what she wanted.

So it was a natural for her to join the service. Her looks, brains and disposition made her a natural for intelligence and oddly enough, Force Recon. She rose through the ranks – working, and later leading, intel ops for her MEUSOC units. As the Trade Center Towers were collapsing from the Al-Qaeda suicide attacks, Darcy was made Executive Officer of the 3-2's Force Recon as part of a 'female Marines in the field' pilot program spearheaded by Colonel Ashton R. Briggs. Due to her successes, the Corps green-lighted a pilot 'females in combat' program, spearheaded of course, by Darcy Livingston.

She was a little older now, more seasoned, her hair cut into a short and practical style, but sassy look, plus she still had her drop dead looks. It was these assets, along with her proficiency in French and Arabic that made her unit feared and grudgingly respected, by their enemy, and the favorite of Force Recon commander Lieutenant Colonel 'Big Bill' Murphy and MEU commander Briggs.

No one had expected Lieutenant Colonel Murphy to be killed, but then that's what happens to people during a war, even the good people. So Briggs, in daring move, made her acting commander of Force Recon until they were repatriated.

She had dived into the task presented to her with relish. Before long, she had won the respect of most of the senior officers of her unit and the MEU. Now, Lieutenant Colonel Livingston was reviewing her operational plans for tomorrow morning. Briggs's orders were clear; break the back of the Iraqi Fedayeen resistance. A knock at her door interrupted her thoughts.

"Come."

Lance Corporal Mitchell Davis stuck his head in her room. "Sorry to disturb you, Ma'am," he began cautiously.

Darcy smiled warmly at his wariness. "It's okay Corporal," motioning for him to come on in. "What's the problem?"

The Corporal cut his eyes back toward the door as he entered the room. "Uh, these JAG officers would like a word with you, Ma'am."

Darcy's smile disappeared, replaced by a stoic demeanor when she noted Commander Rabb and Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie followed the Corporal through the doorway.

_Well, well, two 0-5's, coming to see me, this ought to be interesting... _

Darcy really hadn't had anything to stimulate her in a long time. She liked stimulation – good or bad – it made her feel alive. She smiled graciously. "Colonel, Commander, to what do I owe the pleasure of this late evening visit?"

Harm walked over to her desk and laid the insignia in front of her. "I believe these are yours."

Darcy Livingston picked up the insignia and examined them. "Where did you find them?"

"They were on Corporal Martin's uniform shirt."

"Well I knew Martin wanted to get ahead," she joked easily, making the accompanying MP smile. "But really, how did they get to him?"

"We were hoping you could explain that one to us." Harm said fixing her with a hard stare.

Darcy seemed amused by the Commander's actions. "Can't help you there. I reported the insignia missing a couple of days ago. You think Corporal Martin's involved?"

"We're having that checked out." Mac replied just as easily, deciding to deflect Harm's bloodhound impression. "What can you tell us?"

"Not much," Darcy said smiling at the Lieutenant Colonel. "I put them down on my nightstand table over there and yes, I know, 'it's not smart' and when I came back for them, they had disappeared."

"When was that?" Harm was back on the scent.

"The following morning. Look Commander, I figured one of the Iraqis that hang around here had taken them, you know, hocked them for the money."

"You have a lot of Iraqi citizens hanging around here?"

"Do you know of any real way we could stop them?" She gave the Commander an equally hard stare. "It is their country after all."

"So, you thought an Iraqi civilian hocked them." Mac said with doubt tingeing her voice; she not sure she was buying what Darcy was selling.

"Colonel do you know Corporal Martin?"

Darcy looked impassively at Harm. "Corporal Martin was in Force Recon – decided he'd rather be in infantry - so he transferred."

That didn't faze Harmon Rabb one bit. He smelled something. "Do you know a soldier named Glover?"

A fire lit in Colonel Livingston's eyes. "No, should I?"

"Uh, Commander" said the MP helpfully, "You're badgering the Colonel."

"Glover's the name of the soldier who threatened me, Colonel." Mac was trying to keep this interview civil.

Harm pressed harder when he thought he saw a flicker in Livingston's armor. "He used your insignia and Martin's shirt."

But Darcy Livingston was far from being a scared suspect. "And why do you think he did that, Commander?"

Mac decided to put a stop to this before it really got out of hand. "He wanted plausible deniability Colonel. Look; we appreciate your willingness to talk to us."

"Just trying to be helpful Colonel." She looked over almost sneering at Harm. "Thanks for finding my insignia…Commander."

"We'll be going now." She grabbed Harm roughly by the arm and pulled him out of the barracks followed by the MP.

"Mac, what the hell was that about?" he snapped.

Mac blew up. "Harmon Rabb, have you lost your mind? You cannot go on a witch hunt through this unit, beating up on everyone that gets your nose out of joint!"

"Power down Mac, she's hiding something!"

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Oh for the love of God! Harm, to you everybody in this unit is hiding something!"

Harm looked at her stunned, not understanding her anger. "Mac, you were threatened…."

But the Marine Lieutenant Colonel was sick and tired of the Commander's behavior and she didn't want to hear any of it. "The last time I checked Commander, I was a Lieutenant Colonel in the United States Marine Corps, I damn well think I can take care of myself!"

"Mac…." Harm was futilely trying to calm her.

She grabbed her shirt and pulled on collars feeling her subdued insignia "Yep! I'm still a Lieutenant Colonel! Just because I'm your girlfriend I didn't lose my rank!"

"Mac-" The naval aviator's voice was shifting from confusion to irritation.

"Flyboy!" she snarled, "Did it ever occur to you I don't need you to rescue me *every time* someone says 'boo' to me?"

Something inside the man snapped. "I'm watching your six, you sanctimonious Jarhead!" He growled, causing both Mac and the MP to step back.

Her eyes flew open wide as she stared dumbly at him, her anger temporarily snuffed out by his blast. "So that's where Sturgis got the idea that I'm sanctimonious…."

"No, he came up with that one on his own, Colonel! Someone only has to be around you five minutes to figure that one out! And that you have a feminist chip on your shoulder the size of the rock of Gibraltar!"

"Commander!" Her anger returned anew, "You think that Colonel we just talked to – wait, the one you just harassed – isn't going to file a report with Briggs? The Admiral will eat you for breakfast – if Briggs waits that long to report it!

"Let him Colonel!" yelled Harm, "I'm sick of this shit! I'm sorry I ever came back to JAG!"

That pulled Mac up short. "Wait a minute Harm, you don't mean that-"

"Yes I do!" Harm looked at her, his eyes almost pleading. The hurt conveyed, shocked Mac into silence.

"Mac, I just can't do this anymore. I can't see you being threatened this way and-helpless to do anything about it, because if I do, you'll take my head off or worse yet the Admiral will fire me again!"

Mac felt sick. She had pushed too far, again. "Harm-"

He cut her off, looking at her, his eyes dull, his voice broken and defeated. "No Mac, I love you, I know that now, but I'm not sure you do…."

She had to stop this. She had to keep him from pulling away any further. "Sure I do Squid, but you can't-"

"I can't just stand by and watch as people take pot shots at you! These idiots have threatened you and I just can't stand idly by! A few years ago I told Singer that I would personally destroy the career of the person who tried to smear you and right now I want to gut this whole damn unit!"

She was losing him. Again. "Harm-"

"Just leave me alone Mac!" He roared. Mac couldn't believe the level of his fury. They had argued over things like this before – why was now any different?

She reached out to him, but he would have none of it. "Harm-"

He swatted her hand away. The anguish in his voice ripping at her heart. "Please, Mac, just leave me…alone…."

Mac holding her still stinging hand, stood helplessly in the cool desert sand as Harmon Rabb, shoulders hunched, marched away from her into the inky darkness. Mac felt tears stream down her face as she watched her partner, her best friend, her Flyboy, disappear into the night.

-TBC…


	13. Chapter 12

**...For Meritorious Service, Chapter XII **

**Mac felt as if all the air and all the energy had been sucked out of her**. Bleary eyed from threatening tears, she stumbled into her room and dropped down onto her rack. She was so mad and frustrated right now she couldn't see straight-at the same time a cold ball of fear gripped her. Despite her fear of losing Harm-the one thing that made any sense in her life right now-she didn't want to be treated like a damsel in distress. But, if she lost her Flyboy again-after all they been through recently—well, she wouldn't care if she died right now. Things had been going so well, and then this had to happen.

She fell over onto her bunk silently crying, her whole body shaking from the quiet sobbing that coursed through her. But at the same time, she couldn't believe his gall; his charging in there like the great protector! Why did he do it!? He knows better, make that he should know better by now, how that makes her feel-plus it was stupid and foolish. _Briggs is going to blow a gasket when he finds out and its Harm's own damn fault for going overboard, nearly accusing Livingston of being involved in those threats against me. Did I say I need protecting? Did he listen to me? Hell no, that would have been too easy! Now everyone will think I am some poor defenseless female who needs a big strong protector!_ She angrily thought, as she swiped at the tears running down her face. Damn, she hated crying like this!

She wanted to reason with him but as usual, he made it so hard. He always had. Just like all men, Harm thought she needed protecting and his insistence on doing that infuriated her and so they blew up at each other-again. It was like a vicious circle that neither could steer clear of. She honestly thought that when they became more than just casual friends, this kind of garbage would stop. But it didn't; in fact, if anything, it became more intense. Now Harm was talking about leaving JAG-again and the way he sounded, this time it might be for good.

Mac saw the scene replay over and over again in her mind, like a stuck video recording. How she wished she could obliterate those images. The one though that she wanted to forget the most, was the haunted, hurt look on Harmon Rabb, Jr.'s face, as he turned away from her and stalked off into the desert.

Somewhere between the recriminations and sobs, Mac drifted off into an uneasy sleep. But slumber brought no respite to her tortured mind.

**xx_begin dream sequence_xx**

In her mind's eye, she could see Harm standing before her, looking at her accusingly. Then like the sun breaking through the clouds, his demeanor changed. That sunny, thousand watt smile broke out on his face; warming her heart and making her feel like maybe they could work through this...

_Hey Ninja-Girl, you know I could never stay mad at you long..._

Before she could reach out to touch him, the scene changed; a dark uniformed figure pointed at her.

_Be Careful Colonel…._

Mac felt uneasy. She wanted to see Harm again, to see his smile. But, when she saw him again, he looked worried. He was dressed in a flight suit, and wearing his aviator helmet stenciled with the name HAMMER.

She heard those dreadful voices again...

_Missiles inbound..._

_Brace for impact..._

_Eject! Eject! Eject!_

Harm burst into flames right before her eyes, consumed until he became a burnt skeleton.

_I love you Mac.…_

She ran screaming from that image, only to find herself in the desert, looking up as a SAM missile exploded near the tail of an F-14 fighter jet.

She watched horrified as the plane's tail was shredded. It veered wildly out of control, smoke blossoming from the damage. Miraculously, two men ejected from the doomed Tomcat. Both cleared the jet as it disintegrated. She watched as they dangled limply from their parachutes. She saw the one closest to her hit the ground with a sickening thud. She ran over to the still form of the pilot. Dread filled her. It was Harm, she just knew it was.

The body did not move. She looked at the helmet. HAMMER was stenciled on it. Gently she turned the body over. She was greeted by Harm's sightless eyes staring back at her, a trickle of blood running down from his nose and the corner of his mouth. His neck was obviously broken. As she cradled Harm's face, his eyes blinked. She stifled a scream.

OH DEAR GOD!

**xx_end dream sequence_xx**

Mac bolted upright on her bunk. That last voice was still echoing in her mind as it always did when she came out of that dream. It sounded like her, but at the same time, it didn't sound like her. She quickly scanned the room, it seemed unusually bright to her, then she remembered she hadn't turned off any of the lights. It was just as she had left it when she walked in right after...her fight with Harm. Oh God, what had she done? Had she just signed his death warrant?

She jumped off the bed. Mac had to get away from it. There would be no sleep as long as these nightmarish images tortured her.

Mac started to pull open the door and walk outside into cool desert night, but stopped in her tracks. She thought about going over to the guys' side of the VOQ, but what would she say?

_Um, hi, sorry to wake you, I had a bad dream about Harm dying...smooth MacKenzie, _she thought ruefully to herself, _That will go over real well._

She sighed. Instead Mac decided she would just go outside, like she did last night. Only Harm wouldn't be there to help comfort her – _Dammit, I made good and sure that wouldn't repeat itself! _She wrenched the door open to see Bud and Sturgis standing at the door. They looked surprised and somewhat embarrassed to see her standing there.

Mac couldn't hide the exasperation in her voice. "What you two doing here?"

The two Navy officers looked sheepishly at each other. "Well, Bud and I, we thought-"

The Marine Lieutenant Colonel finished the thought for him. "You thought you would just check up on me, right?"

"Well since all these threats started, we thought it might be a good idea to check in on you, yeah." Sturgis said somewhat defensively.

She shook her head disbelief. "Uh-a bed check, Sturgis? I'm not fourteen you know."

He rolled his eyes at her comment. "Mac," he began then stopped for a moment - something was wrong. "What are you doing up at this hour, anyway?"

She brushed past them and sat down hard on the steps in front of her barracks. "I'm getting a little air, is that all right?" Tears were threatening to spill again, and she didn't want that and maybe getting outside would help.

Bud and Sturgis looked at each other, not sure what to do. Mac sat on the step, staring straight ahead. A stubborn tear slipped down her cheek.

Bud moved toward her. "Ma'am? Are you crying?"

She hastily wiped at her face, "Sorry, just feeling a little emotional, Bud."

Sturgis shook his head and let out a weary sigh as he walked over. "Mac, do you want to talk about it?"

"Where do I begin?" she said looking at both of them.

"Harriet tells me at the beginning is usually a good place to start, Ma'am."

"My Dad would agree Mac, start at the beginning..."

Mac gave Bud Roberts and Sturgis Turner a watery smile and motioned for them to sit down next to her.

They slowly sat down on the steps next to Colonel MacKenzie. All three sat in silence for a few moments.

"Look, this is silly," Mac began to get up, "I'll just go back-"

"Mac," rumbled Sturgis in his deep bass voice. "This is about Harm, isn't it?"

She stopped and slowly sat back down.

Her expression softened as she gave him a slight nod. Slowly, carefully he reached out and put his arm around her, giving her shoulder a light, hopefully reassuring, squeeze. "It's going to be okay, Mac." Despite her best intentions to shrug off this supportive gesture, Mac felt herself relax just a little bit.

"It will work out Ma'am." replied Bud, trying to sound upbeat. "The Commander will come back."

Her relaxed moment evaporated. She looked up at Bud, her expression becoming one of puzzlement. Her eyebrows knit up in concern and confusion. "You heard?"

Bud babbled on oblivious to her change in demeanor. "Yes Ma'am, the MP told us what happened-"

_The MP!_ Mac had forgotten all about the man who had gone with them to Colonel Livingston's office. _Damn! Can this get any worse?!_

Bud finally noticed the change in her expression and hurried to do damage control. "Don't worry Ma'am, he told us he wouldn't say anything."

"Us?!" Her stunned eyes focused on Sturgis. He let go of her as if he had been shot.

"Uh, y- yes M-Ma'am," stammered Bud, not wanting to incur the Colonel's wrath. "Commander Turner and I-"

"Mac, the man will keep his word." Sturgis said quickly, "I told him I would prosecute him if he told anyone else."

Sturgis' joke was supposed to lighten the mood, but it fell flat. Mac was mentally assessing the damage done by their revelation in front of the MP_. Great! That's just peachy MacKenzie. That explains Sturgis comforting me like this - he and Bud know we've had another fight! And a very public one at that._

"Okay, so how much do you two know?"

Bud and Sturgis looked at each other, and then at the ground in front of them.

"Pretty much everything, Mac." admitted Sturgis.

"Yes Ma'am, pretty much everything." added Bud.

"I expected better from you two," Mac grumbled disgustedly as she shook her head. "Harm's the one that usually pulls a stunt like this."

"Mac, Harm is just trying to look out for you."

"Sure Ma'am, just like he always has."

She cast a withering look at Sturgis. "Did I ask him to?"

Sturgis however was not buying it. He knew better than Bud, probably better than anyone else, how this Marine felt about the Commander. "Mac, whether you like it or not, you're gonna need backup from time to time and truthfully, Harm is doing what any of us would do for you."

"He's right Ma'am," added Bud trying to help, "The Commander is just doing what any of us would do; watching your six, Ma'am"

Mac tried reasoning with her former mentee. "But Bud, doesn't he realize how badly this might jeopardize our investigation, especially with Briggs watching our every move?"

But Bud had a point to make. "Oh, I'm sure he does care Ma'am. The point is, he cares more about you."

Sturgis jumped in adding more weight to the argument. "Mac, think about it; you'd do the same thing if you were in his place, you've done it lots of times-"

She cut him off. That isn't what she wanted to hear from him. This was not about her, this was about him. "That isn't the point Sturgis..."

Preacher's son Sturgis Turner looked accusingly at the Colonel. "Then what is the point, Mac?"

She stopped. She wasn't sure herself what her point was.

Taking advantage of Mac rare loss for words, the former bubblehead turned lawyer pressed home his attack. "I'll tell you what I think the point is Mac; consequences be damned if it's you helping someone, but your self-righteous, straitlaced personality can't handle it if someone is trying to do the same for you!"

Stunned by this, she turned to Bud for solace. Who gave her none. "Sorry Ma'am, but Commander Turner is right; you'll help anyone, but you won't let anyone help you; especially not Commander Rabb."

Mac sighed heavily. She hated to admit it, but they both were right. Immediately that sneering voice of self-doubt began to laugh and taunt her about how she had blown it again, but she quickly shut it out this time, not even letting a little self-pity creep in. She had to figure out how to tell Harm she was sorry. Something very much not in Mac's vocabulary. This was indeed going to be a very long night.

**Local and Zulu Time Unknown  
><strong>**North of Mirbullah, Iraq**

**Harmon Rabb, Jr. stalked through desert countryside**, without any real direction or purpose. All he knew was that he had to get away from that infuriating Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie. _Yeah, coming back to JAG had been a mistake. Any woman he had ever dated before, he had been able to protect and they had appreciated it- Annie, Jordan, Renee-they had all loved it, they even said so. But not Sarah-correction, not Mac. She was a tough as nails, by the book Marine, eating bullets for breakfast, arresting and convicting bad guys, so woe to the man who tried to protect her. She didn't want protection from any damn man. Show her affection or a selfless act and she was putty, but try to protect her and God help you..._

"Maybe it's time I showed everyone, including that stubborn Marine, that I can be responsible and dependable. That I am grown up and not always rushing off charging windmills..." He muttered to himself.

Harm found himself down by the marshes north of the MEU encampment. Tall reeds in the brackish water, swayed in the early morning pre-dawn breeze. Then he saw it. A hand sticking out of the mud.

Harm put his thoughts about Mac and his future at JAG Corps on the back burner as his investigative instinct kicked in. First rule; don't tamper with the scene of the crime. Still he needed to get closer.

He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, but when he rubbed them, and looked again, it was still there. Guardedly, the Commander made his way down the sandy slope to the edge of the water where the arm rose above the surface.

Harm looked at the water's surface, it was still cloudy. Whoever dumped this body here, must've done it recently. He heard footfalls. Looking up, he saw a young Arab man carrying a bundle of reeds. Despite the fact they were in the 21st century, people in the isolated villages outside of the big cities still preferred 19th century methods. Harm knew he would need some assistance to keep this body from floating downstream with the current.

"Hey! I need some help!"

The man dropped his load of reeds and ran down to the water's edge. Nodding, he started trying to wade out to body, as he thought Harm wanted help to pull the body free.

The aviator/lawyer cut in front of the man who thought he was helping. "No, no. No! We can't do this." The man looked at him confused. "You stay here with the body. Don't move anything. I'll be back with help." Harm didn't know if the man understood or not, but at least he wasn't trying to pull it out anymore. He clambered back up the embankment and began jogging back toward the MEU Headquarters.

**0305 Local_0005 Zulu  
><strong>**Camp Chesty Puller  
><strong>**Near Mirbullah, Iraq**

**Sturgis, Mac and Bud sat on the steps to her barracks** each deep in their own thoughts. Each was afraid to say anything more.

At that moment a HMMWV rolled into the MEU compound, causing a great deal of commotion. Mac could see Harm in the front beside the driver. He got out and sprinted over to them.

Mac got up from the step first, quickly followed by Sturgis and Bud.

"Harm, what's the matter?" she asked forgetting about the fight they had just had. A part of her just realized that she did exactly what Harm would have done if the roles were reversed-reach out to help. They would have to talk about this, but not right now. The look in his eyes, meant whatever it was that brought him back here so quickly, was serious.

"There's a body in the canal north of here," he said tersely.

He didn't have to say anything else. The three of them followed him back to the

Hum-vee. At the truck, an MP Sergeant was now talking to the driver. When he saw the JAG Corps officers approaching, he saluted.

"Sergeant, there's a body in the salt marsh canal north of here. Have a medical officer, and Captain Johnson meet us there."

"Aye Sir." The man started heading to the medical building as the four JAG officers climbed on board the truck. "Let's go," said Harm to the driver.

The man dropped the truck into gear, and pulled out of the compound.

**xxxiixx**

**The medical officer, Captain Johnson and two more MPs slowly made their way down the embankment **where Harm and the others were waiting. The commotion had awakened many in the village and despite the early hour of the morning, they were now gathered around the edge of the canal.

The lights of the trucks had been pointed down the embankment toward the body. Johnson nodded toward Mac, who returned his greeting.

"What have you got?"

"A body in the water. Commander Rabb found it."

He looked over at Harm who was trying to keep the body from drifting into the swifter current, in the middle of the canal. "Commander? Who do we have?"

"Can't tell Captain. He or she is covered with silt. Can you take some pictures?"

Johnson aimed his camera at the slowly moving body. The current tugged at the corpse making it seem alive. Harm did his best to steady the body without actually touching it.

"Okay, I've got what I need." He motioned to the MPs standing at the water's edge. "Help the Commander get that body out of the water."

As Bud watched, Sturgis, Mac, Harm and the MPs grabbed the form and pulled it out of the silty muck. The crowd murmured and moved forward as the corpse was laid on the embankment by the mud covered officers and MPs.

Harm squatted down next to the still form, as the reed carrier and the others looked on. The body was coated. It was impossible him to tell who 'he' had been.

Mac looked at the body. It was a male, covered from head to toe with thick silt. She noticed the combat boots. She immediately made the connection. "A Marine?"

One of the MP Corporals looked at the body. "Well, I would say that's a good guess Ma'am. He's wearing BDU trousers and has on standard issue combat boots. He looked closer. "He seems to be missing his shirt-"

Bud got closer to the form. "Do you think it might be 'Lieutenant Colonel Ronald Glover?'"

Harm sighed as he leaned against the side of the truck. "That would be my guess. Minus Martin's uniform and Livingston's insignia."

"Looks like we've got another death to add to this investigation..." replied Sturgis wearily.

The doctor, a Captain with a walrus-like black mustache, made a quick check of the man. "Yeah, he's one of ours." He brushed some of the silt away from the man's neck with his gloved hand. "And here's what killed him."

Mac winced when she saw the black and blue marks on the man's neck.

The doctor finished his cursory examination. "His windpipe has been crushed and it looks like someone gave him a karate chop on his Adam's apple to boot." The doctor motioned to the MP Corporal. "Bag and tag what you need to. We'll get the NCIS field agent out here later today."

Bud came back to the group. "Commander, I checked with the locals. No one saw or heard anything unusual."

"Did they hear any vehicles come by this way, hear anything splash in the water?"

"Uh, they told me lots of vehicles come by here day and night. People are always throwing stuff in the canal"

"Terrific."

An approaching Hum-vee could be heard. Harm looked at the ground.

"Mac, please tell me that isn't Briggs."

"What the devil is going on out here?!" The Colonel's brusque voice brought everyone to attention. Harm hissed his disgust, though he should have guessed that Briggs would make a personal appearance.

Briggs walked over and looked down at the body and then at Mac. "Huh! This your boogie man, Colonel?" Another man was standing close to Briggs. Mac could see he was wearing the rank of Lieutenant Colonel.

"It would appear so, Sir." replied Mac soberly.

The newly arrived Lieutenant Colonel looked sympathetically at Mac. "This is the man who threatened you, Ma'am?"

"I can't be sure, Colonel...?" Mac stopped uncertain who this polite man was standing next to Colonel Jackass.

"Baxter," said the man quickly filling in that blank. "Lieutenant Colonel Andrew Baxter, I'm the Colonel's Executive Officer. Sorry I haven't been here up to now. I've been out with the troops north of Mirbullah on cordon-and-search missions."

"Baxter, you don't have to tell your life story to them!" barked Briggs.

"Aye Sir!" came the crisp reply.

Briggs looked around at the assembled group of MPs and Marine Officers. "It's late, and reveille doesn't come later just because we've been up all night chasing ghosts." He looked at his Executive Officer. "Talk to the Doc and get this squared away, ASAP Baxter."

"Aye, aye Sir."

"Colonel." Mac and Sturgis looked in Harm's direction.

Briggs started at Harm's authoritarian voice. He turned toward this nuisance. "What is it Commander?" he growled.

"Colonel, we'll have to alert NCIS about what has happened."

He looked at the Commander as if he had grown a second head. "What do we need with them snooping around here? You're an investigator aren't you?"

Harm was taken aback by rudeness of his question. He stared stonily at the man. "Yes Sir, but-."

"But nothing Commander!" He waved his arm dismissively at him. "I don't see any reason to bring anyone else in on this case!"

Mac, Sturgis and Bud showed their surprise at his request. Harm couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Colonel, one of your men has been murdered! There are procedures we have to follow-"

Briggs was livid. "Then investigate! Rabb! I don't give a hang about procedure! Find out who did it! Chegwidden said you were the best - now prove it! I don't want anyone else snooping around my MEU! Get it done and leave NCIS out of it! Are we clear Commander?!"

Harm and the other JAG officers came to attention. "Aye, aye Sir!"

"I'll see you JAGMen in the morning." The attorneys saluted, but Briggs didn't bother acknowledging them as he climbed back in his Hum-vee. Harm and the others came to attention until Briggs' truck disappeared into the darkness. The crowd from the village, figuring the show was over, began to disperse.

Baxter looked apologetically at the attorneys. "Sorry Sirs, Ma'am, he's been this way since-"

"-we arrived?" finished Bud.

Baxter shrugged his shoulders. "Look, I know he hasn't been exactly friendly to you, but he hasn't always been this way."

Mac was curious. _It seems like everyone in this unit is covering for each other. The question is why?_ "How long has he, as you say, 'been like this', Colonel?"

Baxter cleared his throat. It was clear he was uncomfortable talking about this. "It's been on and off for the past few months, recently it seems to have gotten worse."

"Gotten worse, Colonel?" Harm spoke up for the first time since Briggs left. "In what way-"

"Colonel Baxter, Colonel Briggs told us you needed our..." Major Vince Barnett, who had been walking toward the Hum-vee stopped in his tracks and his voice trailed off when he saw the four JAG attorneys standing beside Baxter. Captain Johnson stiffened as well.

Their reactions were not lost on the four attorneys.

Barnett looked at the body and then at Johnson. "Why didn't you tell me about this?"

Johnson looked embarrassed. "I thought it was a local. Major, I had no idea it was-"

The Major cut him off before he could say anything else. "Skip the apologies, just get in the truck. We need get the morgue ready, and we have to start writing up the paperwork, for the NCIS Agent in Charge who will be coming later today from Baghdad. We do have an agent coming, don't we?"

A chagrined Johnson headed for Barnett's truck. "Uh well, I guess so, Sir, yes Sir."

Barnett cut a quick look at the JAG Corps attorneys and then back at Johnson. "I can tell

by your face Captain, the old man said 'no NCIS', right?"

Johnson looked at his feet. "Um, Yes Sir."

Vince Barnett looked over at Executive Officer Baxter and ignored the lawyers. "We'll get this taken care of, Sir. Sorry to have bothered you." He motioned to Johnson to get in the truck. The HMMWV pulled away from the canal, and headed back towards the MEU.

"I wonder what's the matter with him?" asked Baxter, absently.

"Probably just saw something that didn't agree with him." Harm said. Baxter cocked his head, as he looked at the Navy lawyer. Although the words could be taken as a joke, the Commander's tone couldn't.

"What are you driving at, Commander?" he asked pointedly.

"He's just kidding Major," said Mac shooting Harm a 'cut it out' look. Harm, ignored her command. He just stared at Baxter.

She was tempted to roll her eyes but didn't. Instead she smiled at Briggs' Executive Officer. Harm noticed her smile, and Mac noted that he was watching carefully.

"I see." Baxter turned his attentions to Mac. "Well Colonel, what is your next move?"

"Our next move, Colonel," interjected Harm trying to get the XO's attention, "Is to find out who this man is, and why he was killed."

Mac ignored the aviator/lawyer's assertion. "Our next move," she said keeping her attention on Baxter and making sure he remained focused on her. "Is to find out who this man was."

Harm looked as if he was going to explode. For some unknown reason, he didn't. Sturgis and Bud tried to keep their faces as neutral as possible, keeping their eyes on the seething Commander.

Baxter stared at her longer than he should have. Mac smiled shyly at him.

"Uh, Ma'am, Sir," Bud rudely interrupted their staring contest. "Major Barnett is probably going to need our help. We need to get back." The hint of antipathy with Mac's 'antics' was perfect. Harm realizing that Mac was playing her part as described by Lindsey's report, fought down his anger, but he still was irked at her for playing her role so...so...easily?

Mac bit her lower lip, looking embarrassed. "Um, Thank you Bud."

"Yes, Thank you, Lieutenant." replied Baxter somewhat stiffly.

The two officers parted reluctantly.

**xxxiixx**

**As the four attorneys headed back to their quarters**, Harm shot Mac a sickened look.

"What?" replied Mac nonchalantly, knowing exactly what Harm was irritated about.

Sturgis grabbed Bud's arm and pulled him toward the building. "Come on Lieutenant, the Commander and the Colonel have some issues to discuss."

Bud cut a quick look at his two mentors and nodded. "Understood Sir."

Both men quickly entered the building and shut the door. As the door closed, Harm snorted. "That was some display MacKenzie, you would have made a good barmaid in the old West."

For once, Mac decided to not go for bait. Instead she fired back with her own witty comment. "My old law school professor said I would have made a good lap dancer, so I figured I'd put those assets to good use."

They both looked at each other for a long moment. When he broke contact, his eyes slid away from her with Harm looking everywhere except at her. "Uh Mac, I-"

She put her hand gently on his arm. He immediately focused on her. "Harm, don't; you don't have to do this. I'm the one-"

Harm put his hand on her shoulder. "Don't apologize." She quirked her eyebrow at him. "Someone once told me it's a sign of weakness."

"But Harm you said-"

"Forget what I said Jarhead," he said casually, brushing her off. "We got a case to investigate."

Mac planted her hands on her hips. _So much for resolving what lead to this in the first place. Just like on the __**Watertown**__, on the __**Guadalcanal**__ and in Paraguay, we're 'tabling our discussion of anything remotely dealing with our relationship for now'_. "So you're just dropping it that easily." Mac could feel the anger building in her.

He locked eyes with her. His anger was under control, but she was pushing it. They had an investigation to conduct. Why did she want to bring this up right now? "For right now, yes." There was irritation in his voice.

She could see where this was headed and decided to try a different track. "Harm, please listen to me; you shouldn't leave JAG."

He really didn't want to talk about this right now, but she was pressing him so maybe if he lanced it quick, it wouldn't hurt as much. "Why not Mac?"

She looked at him earnestly. "Because the Admiral gave you a second chance, Harm, and we all missed you." She was trying to say it, but as always with Harm, boyfriend or not, it was hard. So she hedged her bet, hoping he would see what she really meant.

But he didn't. He started to walk away from her. "That's great Mac, but I can't deal with this. I'm suffocating, I can't even protect my best friend-"

It was her last chance. "Harm, I missed you. I don't want you to leave again."

Harm stopped. He turned around and looked at her.

She steadied herself and threw herself into the lion's mouth. She was scared to death about what would happen. But she was even more scared of Harm leaving her. "Yeah, you heard me, Flyboy. I missed you. There are you happy? I missed you watching my six, I missed your crazy plans," she sighed and lowered her head. "I missed the man who told me he loves me."

The aviator/lawyer didn't know what to say. "Mac I-"

Mac didn't want him slip away any further than he already had. She could feel him pulling away and she couldn't face that again. She had to try to reach him, even if it meant giving up some of her independence. "Please Harm, bear with me; this is new territory for me. I'm used to having my partner watch my six this way, but now, you're more than my partner, this is-"

"It's different" he finished for her, his words gentle, losing all the anger they had borne just a few minutes ago.

The Marine Lieutenant Colonel was on a roll. "Yeah, it's different. You, Sturgis and Bud are right; I tend to be the first to help just like you when someone gets into trouble. But also just like you, I hate having anyone help me." She looked up into his face. A slight sad smile crossed hers. "Especially if it's my boyfriend."

He leaned in close. She was bearing her soul - something that Mac, Sarah, had never done with anyone. Still, he had to know more. "And why is that?" He asked, his voice was tight.

She looked down at her hands. Her voice was low and trembling. "Because I'm afraid..."

"Afraid?" he said softly, lifting her head with his thumb and forefinger. "Afraid of what?"

She chuckled humorlessly, now it was her turn to look everywhere but at him. "Afraid that I'll be seen as incompetent; your weak damsel in distress; the perils of Mac..."

He felt as if for the first time he was seeing the woman behind the Marine. "Mac, you know I would never see you that way or treat you that way-"

But she wasn't about to stop now. It was like absolution. "Harm since I was fifteen years old I've been an independent person, never needing anyone's help or asking for it. It took Eddie's death and Uncle Matt hitting me with the proverbial two by four to get me to realize that I needed help." She took hold of his hand. "All I'm saying, Harm, is give me time. With all the others it was so tempting to let go...to pretend I felt safe, but as soon as I did, things started to fall apart. I can't let that happen with you Harm, I want this to work so bad, I can taste it. So, I hold on to my independence, it's my way of keeping you with me."

Harm felt that now he was really beginning to understand this woman. "Mac, I know that Marines are always saying 'Semper Fi, Do or Die' and all that, but they are also trained to rely on their buddies, their fellow Marines." He cupped her face with his hands as she held onto his. "And while I may not be a Marine, I damn sure am going to do my best to protect you, not hinder or coddle you, but be there when you need me, but you also have to trust me."

She bit her lower lip, God, why was this was so hard? She wanted to run away. "I want to trust you Harm, but let me do it in my own way on my own time, okay? I promise I'll try to be more understanding about you wanting to protect me."

Harm smiled for the first time since this yesterday. It was a gentle understanding smile. "Okay Mac, acknowledgement accepted. Now let's get back to this case."

-TBC…


	14. Chapter 13

…**For Meritorious Service, Chapter XIII**

**His single minded focus on the case**, unnerved her. Her voice showed it. "Harm?" She was afraid it was all talk.

He grinned. "What is it Mac, you want me to profess my undying love and devotion for you right here and now?"

Her quizzical, cautious look melted into a smile. "Then we're okay?" She looked up at him through her dark eyelashes.

Harm smiled that brilliant smile that warmed her heart. "Hey Ninja-Girl, you know I could never stay mad at you for long-"

As the words left the Commander's mouth, Mac felt as if someone had dropped a brick on her chest. _Hey Ninja-Girl, you know I could never stay mad at you for long..._

The images from her nightmares came flooding back. She felt the blood drain away from her face.

Harm immediately noticed her change in skin tone and demeanor. "Mac? Mac!? What's wrong?!"

Harm's voice sounded as if it was coming from the other end of a long tube. A black frame surrounded Mac's vision. _Dammit MacKenzie! Get ahold of yourself, Marine!_

_Whatever you do, don't faint!_

Harm reported the obvious to her. "Mac! You're sweating!"

Mac took slow deep breaths as she bent over. Gradually, the tinny sound of Harm's voice returned to normal.

"Mac?" Harm gently helped her upright and walked her over to a stack of crates.

"I'll be okay Harm." She managed to get out. "I just need to sit down..."

Harm smiled wryly at her. "You already are."

"Oh yeah," She looked at him, embarrassment filling her features. "Thanks."

The two JAG Corps officers sat there with the Commander rubbing on the Colonel's arms and hands. For once, Mac didn't balk and Harm sat quietly with her.

**0942 Local_0642 Zulu  
><strong>**Outpost Echo, Camp Chesty Puller  
><strong>**Near Mirbullah, Iraq**

**"His name is Leonard Krivstad, Private First Class**. He was assigned to Infantry, my unit as a matter of fact. He joined us just after we got back from Afghanistan."

2nd Lieutenant Jim Hawkins shifted uneasily in his seat. "Where did you find him?"

Bud and Mac looked at the Lieutenant, trying to gauge if he was saddened and horrified by what had happened, or scared that he had been found out. "Commander Rabb found him in the salt marshes north of here. He had been strangled and dumped there."

"Len was as brave as they come, a little foolhardy at times-"

"Foolhardy Lieutenant?" repeated Bud.

"Sorry, he took unnecessary chances sometimes. I tried to get him to stop, but he always acted like he had something to prove... He mentioned in his last evaluation he wanted to move to Force Recon."

Mac thought about the description. _Having something to prove or trying too hard to be one of the gang? That's another person we've run into that has ties to Force Recon._

"He was a good kid, Colonel." continued Hawkins. "Just a little green."

Mac made a notation on her pad to tie together just how many of these folks were connected in some way to Force Recon.

Bud looked down at his notes and made a notation, and then looked back at the Lieutenant. "Did he witness Lieutenant Dodge's death?"

Lieutenant Hawkins thought about that one. "No, No Lieutenant Roberts, he was in the back of the convoy that morning. He never even saw Buell and Lukens land the bird. Len was hunkered down trying to keep from getting his head shot off."

Mac hated asking this one, but it had to be done. "Do you think he stole Martin's clothes and the insignia from Livingston?"

Hawkins shook his head in earnest. "I haven't the foggiest Colonel, maybe he did, maybe he snapped under the pressure, I just don't know. It doesn't make any sense."

_He sounds genuinely confused by Krivstad's actions. The question is, if he did it, why did he do it? Well, we're no closer to solving this mystery than we are to solving Dodge's murder..._

Mac was about to ask another question when a Staff Sergeant stuck his head in tent they were sitting in. "Pardon the interruption, Ma'am, Sir."

"'Treasure', Sergeant Russell is ready to go over Private Francesco's fitness report, if you've got a moment."

Hawkins cut a glance toward Mac and Bud, "Excuse me, Colonel, Lieutenant, duty calls."

Mac couldn't help but smile. She hoped that her look was lecherous enough as she scanned the Lieutenant's body "'Treasure', Lieutenant Hawkins?" It was almost a coo, but not quite. But it had its desired effect.

The young Lieutenant blushed. "Uh, yes Ma'am. The boys nicknamed me for that kid in Treasure Island, you know, young Jim Hawkins..."

"Oh," said Mac nodded in understanding.

The Lieutenant smiled awkwardly at the pretty attorney. "We can talk more about this later if we need to Ma'am, Sir."

Bud answered for both of them. "That won't be necessary Lieutenant. Thank you."

Mac, for Hawkins' benefit, gave Bud a disgusted look.

Bud played his part. He looked sternly at the Colonel as if he had caught her misbehaving. "Ma'am we've got all the information that we need from him unless there is something I've overlooked."

Inwardly, the Lieutenant Colonel was impressed with Bud's acting ability.

Mac did her best to look embarrassed. She bit her lower lip and looked demurely at Hawkins. "Um, I guess not. Maybe we can get together another time, Lieutenant."

"Uh sure, yeah." He came to attention as she and Bud left the tent. Jim Hawkins wished he was off duty. He definitely wanted to know more about the life of female JAG officers.

As they walked out of the tent, she shot him another dirty look. Bud tried his best to look shocked. "Sorry Ma'am, did I do something wrong?" His sarcasm was not lost on those soldiers milling around Lieutenant Hawkins tent.

Mac sighed theatrically for their benefit. "No, Bud." She smiled tiredly at him. "If there's anything else we need to ask him we can do it later. I'm bored. Come on, let's get out of here."

**1042 Local_0742 Zulu  
><strong>**Firebase Coventry  
><strong>**South of Mirbullah, Iraq**

**"So you and your friend here, you're like Red Caps** I take it, Commander?"

Leftenant Prine sat in back of the Alvis personnel carrier with Harm and Sturgis. Prine was the artillery liaison from the 4th Armored Division, 5th Regiment Royal Horse Artillery (5 RHA) to the 36th MEU. He had been with unit when it assaulted Mirbullah.

"Red Caps?" Sturgis repeated. He and Harm exchanged curious looks. The artillery liaison smiled at their curiosity.

"Criminal Investigative Services," he explained, "My girlfriend works with them."

Harm smiled wryly thinking about Briggs' comments from the other night. "Yeah, I guess we are in a way..."

"Well then," he said nodding his head sagely. "I'll give you all the 'elp I can. What do you need to know?"

The preacher's son took over the questioning. "You told us you were with Captain Lewis' command unit. How close were you to Lieutenant Dodge when he was murdered?"

Prine didn't mince words. "Very. If I had been any closer I would have been the one dead, not him."

Harm and Sturgis exchanged surprised looks.

"What did you see, Leftenant?" pressed Harm.

"Well I'll tell you what I bloody well didn't see, those two blokes, Buell and Lukens, shootin' at Leftenant Dodge." Both naval officers were writing down his comments.

Harm realized they had stumbled across one of the few eyewitnesses that could help Lukens and Buell. "Leftenant, this is very important. Who did you see shooting at him?"

"Bloody well impossible to tell you Sir." Harm deflated a little bit upon hearing that. Prine sensed his disappointment and tried to explain how he couldn't he give them the answer they sought. "Seemed like everybody was shootin' at us. The Iraqis, Captain Lewis, some of the blokes from the tracks, a 'ell of a mess Sir."

Sturgis stopped writing as did Harm. They both stared intently at the man. "Captain Lewis? queried Sturgis, "Are you absolutely sure Leftenant?"

At this point Harm jumped back in. "But you're sure about Buell and Lukens-"

"Commander I've 'eard the stories, but I've been artillery liaison for the unit since this row broke out. Those 'elo pilots were not gunnin' for the Leftenant, I'd swear to it."

Sturgis looked at him intently, "Would you be willing to swear to it in a court of law?"

Prine folded his arms across his chest. "Yes Sir, if that's what it takes."

**0640 Local_1040 Zulu  
><strong>**JAG Headquarters  
><strong>**Falls Church, Virginia**

**Harriet had just arrived to begin her day**. Luckily, the daycare center had other parents who needed to drop off their kids early. First she would see if Bud had emailed her overnight. The computer at home was acting funny again and without Bud there to fix it, she thought it was better to just leave it turned off.

After she finished with email, she'd make coffee. No doubt the Admiral had already made the first pot, but it was probably getting near empty by now. He had been spending a lot of time in the office lately both day and night. She hoped it wasn't putting a strain on his engagement with Meredith. Next, she'd call Commander Manetti and find out if she could come by. Then-

"Excuse me Lieutenant, but do you know where I can get a good strong cup of coffee around here?"

Harriet stood up smiling. "Commander Manetti, it's good to see you Ma'am!"

Lieutenant Commander Tracy Manetti broke into a wide smile. "It's good to see you too Lieutenant Sims. How is Lieutenant Roberts?"

"Doing well Ma'am." Her smile faltered a little. "Well, he was before he was sent to Iraq." Harriet immediately remembered that she was talking to the SecNav's ears. "Oh, I'm sorry Ma'am I didn't mean for that to come out the way it did."

Tracy was not the spy everyone thought she was. Inwardly, she winced at Harriet acting this way. "Don't be Lieutenant, if I had a husband over there, I'd be worried too. Have you heard from him lately?"

Harriet was still cautious with her words. "Sporadically. They're keeping them under pretty tight wraps."

"Well don't worry Lieutenant," she said soothingly, "They'll be home soon." Despite wanting to stay and talk more with Lieutenant Sims, who she really liked, Tracy Manetti knew she had to get this errand taken care of and report for her next assignment. "Now what is it that Admiral Chegwidden wants me to sign?"

Harriet fished into her 'in' basket for the newly printed report and handed it to the Commander. "It's a copy of Lieutenant Commander Lindsey's report, doctored to look like you wrote it. We need your signature and initials to make it 'official'"

Tracy began absently flipping through the report. Lindsey sure had an axe to grind, and it was all spelled out her. Luckily the SecNav hadn't trusted Theodore Lindsey after the first time that he failed his promotion board review. So Tracy was ordered to JAG Headquarters to find out if this report was really accurate. In a way, she felt dirty adding her name to such an odious document. "Secretary Sheffield explained this to me last night on my flight in, but I'm still a little bumfuzzled by the whole thing."

"You're not the only one Ma'am." admitted Harriet honestly. "Apparently this report is for anyone asking for background information on the JAG office and only for those units in Iraq requesting this information."

If nothing else, Tracy Manetti was a quick study on what Chegwidden was up to. "So the Admiral suspects there's some hanky panky going on in that MEU..."

Harriet nodded. "Yes Ma'am."

"Well, Admiral Chegwidden is usually right on the money, and that's good enough for me. She felt in her planner and realized she had forgotten to pick up any pens when she left the house. She knew if there weren't any in her planner, it would be fruitless and inefficient to rummage around in her purse - she knew there were none in there. That's what she gets, for getting up two hours before she normally did. "Uh, Can I borrow a pen?"

Harriet smiled at Tracy's honesty. "Sure. So are you working in the SecNav's office now?" The IGO's liaison couldn't help but ask this one.

"No, I'm headed out on a flight this morning to California. Something having to do with ships-" answered Tracy somewhat evasively as she finished signing her name to the last page of the report and handed it back to Lieutenant Sims.

Harriet held up her hand smiling. "I know better than to ask for more, Ma'am." She took the signed report that Tracy handed back to her. "Thanks again for doing this, we really appreciate it."

Tracy's smile was genuine. "No problem Lieutenant. Tell the Admiral I said hello." She started to gather her things and leave the bullpen when a gravelly voice stopped her.

"You can tell him yourself, Commander."

Tracy Manetti turned and burst into a big smile. "Admiral! Sir, I was just leaving."

She hastily explained.

AJ smiled warmly as he crossed his arms in front of his broad chest. "So I heard. The SecNav has you traveling to California?"

Tracy always did like the Admiral, after all they were fellow southerners. "Yes Sir,"

AJ nodded thoughtfully. "Well the Lieutenant is right, we know better than to ask you about what you're doing."

Tracy missed working for him. "Yes Sir. I signed the report as you requested."

AJ dipped his head as if slightly embarrassed. It was an unusual gesture coming from Admiral AJ Chegwidden. "Thank you Commander, I know it's a strange request-"

She softly cut him off, not wanting him to lose face in front of his staff. "Not at all Admiral, it's the least I can do." She meant it.

AJ looked her in the eye again, a half smile on his lips. "Well if you ever decide you had enough of being a troubleshooter-"

Again, she didn't want this to be drawn out. She knew that having her here at JAG Headquarters temporarily as a spy for the SecNav had to be unsettling for the former SEAL. She didn't want to add to that. "I know Sir. Thank you. I'd better get going." The Secretary wants me on that 0930 flight."

AJ understood her actions and respected her for it. In a way she reminded him of Mac. "Well, Good luck Commander." AJ shook her hand firmly.

"You too, Sir." She returned, matching his grip and smiling warmly at him. With that Commander Tracy Manetti turned and walked out of the JAG Headquarters bullpen to the open elevator. AJ and Harriet watched as the doors silently shut on Manetti's resolute face.

-TBC…


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter XIV …For Meritorious Service**

**1044 Local_0744  
><strong>**City Police Station  
><strong>**Mirbullah, Iraq**

**Mac and Bud stood outside the cellblock area**, waiting for the guard to take them in. While they were alone for the moment, they risked a quick honest exchange.

"Colonel, do you think they'll tell us anything that will be useful?"

"We'll find out soon enough, Bud." She spotted the Marine jail guard coming toward them. "Come on," she groaned at the guard like a bored debutante, "We haven't got all day! Let's go, chop, chop!"

Mac motioned impatiently to the Marine guard, who opened the door to the cellblock area. Both lawyers and the armed guard walked along a row of dank cells each holding three or four men. All had beards and/or mustaches. A few did not have shoes. They stopped in front of a cell holding three men dressed in old Soviet style tanker uniforms. All three looked back sullenly at the JAG Corps attorneys.

The guard smiled grimly. "Colonel, Lieutenant, let me introduce you to the sole survivors of the Republican Guard tank unit assigned to defend Mirbullah."

He looked harshly at the three. "_Gih!__Come " He barked. The three slowly moved toward the front of the cell.

The one who stood at the front of the group stared defiantly at the Americans. "_Mumkin t-warri-ni ayy sihada saxs-i-yya?__Would you show me some identification?" he demanded arrogantly of the two attorneys.

The guard screwed up his face in irritation. "They do not need to show you anything. Answer their questions." He growled, in a threatening manner as he started to pull his nightstick from his belt. Mac and Bud tried to look nonplussed at the man's actions, but in reality both were repulsed by the man's willingness to use violence to subdue his prisoners. It looked as if a beating was going to take place.

"Sergeant!" Mac's authoritarian bark stopped the guard before he had a chance to raise the stick against the defiant prisoner. He turned and looked angrily at the two military lawyers.

Bud followed her cue. "We'll hardly be able to get reliable testimony out of them if you insist on beating them first."

The Sergeant re-holstered his stick. He snorted. "If you think you're going to get reliable testimony out of them-"

Mac didn't want to hear anymore out of this man. "We'll be the judge of what is reliable, Sergeant. Please wait outside."

The guard tried to judge if they meant it. In the meantime the three Iraqi tank crewmen were carefully watching the exchange. Bud moved closer to Mac.

"Ma'am there's no need-"

"I'll decide what is needed, Lieutenant." Mac's voice had a definite icy edge to it. The exchange between the guard and the prisoners had brought back memories of her torture at the hands of Sadik Fahd's goons in the Chaco Boreal. "Wait outside Sergeant, that's an order."

The Sergeant locked eyes with Mac for a moment, as if he were going to challenge her. "Yes Ma'am."

The guard slowly left the room, glaring at the now three grinning tank crewmen. "You'd better wipe those-"

"Sergeant!"

He shot the three enemy soldiers a withering glare and then exited the room, closing the door.

Bud started to sigh heavily, but Mac held up her hand indicating that he do so quietly.

She looked over at the three manacled men eyeing them curiously.

" _Ya-xsara,__What a pity, " said the lead man sarcastically, If you are expecting gratitude, American-"

"No, I am not." replied Mac in flawless Arabic. "_ Ism-i Sari_,_My name is Sarah, please sit down."

The three tried not to let their surprise show, but it was evident they were not expecting an Arab speaking American woman to come to their defense. They sat down at the table with the attorneys.

"We have questions about your recent experiences."

The men seemed cautious but curious about these two. They were not like the guard at all.

"Will you answer our questions?" Mac asked in their native tongue.

The men looked at each other and then back at the male Navy Lieutenant and the female Marine Lieutenant Colonel. "We will answer your questions…if you promise to help us…." Their leader began cautiously.

"I cannot make any promises," began Mac, "But *I will* make sure you are not mistreated anymore. I apologize for the behavior of the guard. He will be punished for his treatment of you. You have my word." That caused an immediate shift in the three tankers' attitudes.

…Mac and Bud learned that these three men, Ahmad Jalloud, Khalil As'sam and Rafid T'Lass were indeed the only three survivors of the 10th Armored Brigade, 1st battalion, 3rd company for the 2nd Al-Medinah Armored Division, Republican Guard. It turned out they were in command of the ambush unit on hill just outside of Mirbullah. They used their night vision scopes to watch the unfolding battle in the town square and had indeed witnessed Dodge's heroics. They were ordered by their battalion commander to support the irregulars as it looked like the Americans might break out. Jalloud lead his unit toward the town, keeping an eye on the trapped Marines. They entered the western part of the town and were headed toward the stream when they saw Lieutenant Luken's damaged AH-1 making its hard landing. They also witnessed Dodge deliberately placing his vehicle between them and downed helicopter. At about that same time, Jalloud's unit came under fire from Lieutenant Borden's M1's, which quickly knocked out his entire under-strength company.

As Jalloud and his men abandoned the smoking wreck of their Romanian-built TR-77 tank, they saw several Marines firing toward the big APC. At first, Ahmad Jalloud and his men thought the Marines were firing at the Fedayeen, but then he saw the Lieutenant slump in his hatch. It took him and his men a few minutes to realize the man had been killed by his own soldiers. Before he and his men could witness anything else, they were captured. But he would swear upon his life that the two helicopter crewmen did not fire on the APC commander.

"_Mutsakkir, ya ahmad,__Thank you, Ahmad, " Mac started to get up. As she did the crewmen of tank 300 also got up.

They acknowledged the two US officers by saluting them. _Ya ustaz_,_Sir; _Ya_ _madam_,_Madam,

Mac stopped she could sense Ahmad had a question. He looked at his cohorts and then back at this American woman. "How did you…?"

_Da ana baqa-l-I sana-t-en._ _I have been studying Arabic for two years. , the Marine Lieutenant Colonel replied with a small embarrassed smile. _Maya-s-salama._ _Goodbye. "

"_Allah yi-sallim-ak._ _Goodbye. _Law t-igi burka h-a-qul-ak il-hikaya!_ _If you come tomorrow, I'll tell you a story!" He called out as they left the cell. The Iraqi tankers grinned at each other.

Mac and Bud strode past the guard and out towards the front entrance. As they walked along at a much easier pace once they were outside. Bud gave Mac a sidelong look. "Ma'am you amaze me…."

"How's that Bud?" She said smiling, she and Bud saluted another officer as they passed each other.

"I knew you spoke Farsi, but when did you learn Arabic?"

She stopped and looked sympathetically at him "Sorry Bud, I have to have some secrets."

"Yes Ma'am."

They began to walk again across the street and back towards the BLT compound. "Right now we need to concentrate on finding someone to corroborate their statements …."

**1421 Zulu_1021  
><strong>**JAG Headquarters  
><strong>**Falls Church, Virginia**

**Alan Mattoni sat at his desk whistling** 'I only have eyes for you' as he pursued his witness list for possible weak points. He didn't see Carolyn Imes standing in the doorway watching him in amusement.

"Well someone had a good evening." She finally said when he paused for breath.

Alan stopped whistling and looked up smiling. "Jacque came into town last night."

Carolyn grinned. "I knew there had to be a woman involved."

Alan shook his head, chuckling softly. "I know you didn't just come in here to bust my chops, what do you need Carolyn?"

She looked like she was thinking about it as she settled down in the chair in front of his desk. As he watched her with interest, she appeared to suddenly remember what she wanted. "A favor."

Alan dropped his pencil on the desk and screwed up his face in mock disgust. "Oh damn, I know that look."

"You don't even know what I'm going to ask." pleaded Carolyn half-teasingly.

Alan picked up his pencil and began working on his witness list again, pretending to ignore her. "It's probably illegal, so the answer is no."

"Alan." Carolyn had learned her pleading tactics from Mac.

But Alan refused to be swayed. "No counselor, the last time I did you a favor, Chegwidden chewed on my six for a week straight." Plus he had fallen victim to Mac's pleading tactics before and he knew how to counter them.

Carolyn though, as ready for that. "Okay, I guess I'll just have to tell the Admiral about the spatula incident…."

Alan dropped his list and the pencil. He glared at her. "You wouldn't dare-"

She was enjoying seeing him squirm like this. "I'm a desperate woman, Alan. I think the Admiral would enjoy hearing this one." Her smile was one of a person who was ready to let a secret out of the bag.

Alan tried to bluff her. "That's blackmail Commander." He stated simply, hoping that would end this conversation.

But she wasn't backing down. "Consider it payback for the stunt you pulled before we both shipped out overseas, Commander."

He briefly smiled at that memory. He and Harm had planned that little incident as soon as Tiner let it slip that Carolyn was to report to Naples. "Can't we let bygones be bygones on that one?"

Carolyn would not be denied her revenge. She shook her head. "Unt uh, sorry; that one cost me a good bit of my dignity in front of Harmon Rabb."

Alan should have known that since it was Harm, who Carolyn really liked, the incident was not likely one to simply be dropped. He tried to divert her with a pleasant memory. "You thought it was pretty funny at the time."

But it really wasn't a pleasant memory for her. "It was the only way I could keep from dying of embarrassment." As she let him consider this, Carolyn decided to add something that might help her case. "Besides Mac needs my help and-"

He cut off her explanation. "This is for Mac?"

She was surprised by his action. "Yeah, does that make a difference?" she challenged.

The playfulness was gone from his voice. "You bet it does woman; now it's not just no, it's hell no." He picked up his list and pencil and began ignoring her again. Mac had bested him several times in court – probably as many times as Harm had bested Carolyn. However, Alan took his defeats against the Marine lawyer personally. He had no intention of helping her if he possibly could.

"Alan." Carolyn fell back to pleading again.

Alan made his case for dismissal of her plea. "You two were always up to no good. When you weren't egging her on, she was coming to you with those crazy Jarhead ideals of hers."

Lawyers sometimes have to use subterfuge or in this case, blackmail and Carolyn was not above using it. "Then I guess the Admiral will just have to hear about-"

Alan looked over his list directly at her. "Don't even say it, Commander."

She had him. "Then you'll help?" she asked hopefully.

He set down his paper and pencil again and pulled his hand across his head. She had him over a barrel and he knew it. This was the last time he let Harmon Rabb Jr. put him in a position like this. "Damn, I know I'm going to regret this. He looked up at her. "What does Mac need?" he conceded.

Carolyn enjoyed this kind mental duel with her partner. She gave him a

conspiratorial smile. "A copy of the original report on Lieutenant Dodge's death."

He snorted. "Yeah, and while we're at it, we'll just make a date to chat with the President. Carolyn, you are nuts. Chegwidden will never let us have that report-if he has it."

Carolyn had someone else in mind to do their work for them. "No, but Tiner can get us a copy and the Admiral does have it."

This really was a dumb idea. Alan decided to try logic again. "Then why doesn't she just request a copy from him?"

"It's complicated," began Carolyn, eliciting an exasperated eye roll from Alan. She tossed back her own annoyed look. "He already let them see as much of the report as he could – it's part of the evidence chain against the JAG attorneys being brought up on charges."

That caught his attention.

"Go on…." he said, now interested in what she had to say next.

"And, its classified – neither Mac nor do any of the others have clearance for the case or its evidence. Tiner is always shuffling papers for the Admiral; he'd be working with us while still doing his job for Chegwidden, just like he wanted him to do."

He looked at her with a half grin. "You would drag that poor, innocent kid into this sick scheme of yours?"

She smiled with satisfaction as she sat on the edge of his desk. "You bet; besides he needs…some seasoning before he's let loose on the world. He's going to NJS soon, think of it as…practice for the real world."

Alan loved the way Carolyn's mind worked. "You're right, he does. I'll get him in here." He started to pick up his phone and dial the Petty Officer's office.

She smiled slyly. "Harriet will help," Carolyn added for good measure, "She's been itching to get Tiner back since he put that typo virus on her computer."

Alan paused before dialing the Petty Officer's phone. "You know that one upmanship between those two is going to get them in trouble one day."

"Probably so, but we should take advantage of it while we can."

**1942 Local_2342 Zulu  
><strong>**Officers Quarters,  
><strong>**MCB Camp Lejune, North Carolina**

**Marla Givers and Jennifer Coates sat in Colonel Shoup's office**. He flipped through the file that they had given them. The reduced sized grandfather clock ticked the minutes off as the engineer battalion commander reviewed the information.

Shoup closed the folder and handed it back to Marla. "He was one of my best junior officers. Sounds pretty hollow for me to say 'at least he died a hero', doesn't it?"

Marla shared a knowing look with Jen. They both felt sympathy for the Colonel. "We're sorry to have to report this, Sir."

"What you need, it must be pretty important, with you two bending the rules like this…."

Jen focused on the task at hand. "Sir, we need to find out whether or not Lieutenant Dodge had any enemies here in the Battalion."

Shoup got up from his desk. "Dodge would've made Captain in a few weeks from now if he were still alive. That's faster than 75% of soldiers his rank. Enemies? If there were any I didn't know about them."

Marla brushed her hair back and repositioned herself as she took down some notes on her spiral pad. "So there were no jealous boyfriends or girlfriends, Colonel?"

Shoup shook his head. "Yeah, I heard about those rumors. Corporal, I take a personal interest in anyone in my battalion who rises as fast as Dodge, and I check for potential problems like that one. No, Dodge did not have any jealous boyfriends in our unit wanting to do him in."

Jen closed her notebook and stood up. "Well, thank you for your time, sir." Marla followed her lead. Both stood at attention.

Colonel Shoup stood up to see them out. "Petty Officer, can you answer one question for me?"

"I'll try Colonel."

"Someone is taking care of Dodge's wife, aren't they?"

Marla looked to Jen for the answer. The Petty Officer hedged. "I'm sure they are sir."

Fortunately that seemed to satisfy him. "That's good, because when he brought Fazirah to this country, he was worried about her fitting in."

"Fazirah, Sir? To this country?" Marla immediately opened her spiral pad and began scribbling.

"Yes Corporal, He glanced from Marla to Jen, his face darkened with concern. "Didn't they tell you? The Lieutenant had married an Afghan refugee and brought her back here to live."

Marla answered sincerely. "No Sir, they didn't."

"I'm not surprised," he admitted with a twinge of disgust in his voice. "War brides are not good politics these days. Sometimes they think it's best for the left hand not to know what the right hand is doing."

Jen decided there was one more question that needed to be asked based on the information just revealed to them. "Um, Sir, where is she right now?"

"When Dodge went to Iraq, she went to live with her cousin in Falls Church."

Jen couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Falls Church, Virginia, Sir?" She exchanged a surprised glance with Marla. The woman they probably needed to talk to most was right in their own city, probably just blocks away from the office.

"Yes Petty Officer." He fixed her with a withering stare, noting her interest in his answer. "Why, didn't your office know about this?"

"Actually Sir they probably did," she lied hoping he would buy her answer. "Since were weren't privy to the original information, we just appreciate you verifying this fact for us."

He nodded, apparently understanding what they were doing. He knew attorneys did this kind of thing all the time and paralegals and legal staff probably do the same thing. "Glad I could verify that that fact for you," he said sarcastically, "Will there be anything else?"

Jen wanted to get out of there as soon as they could. They had found out all they were going to down here. "No Sir, thank you again for your time."

**xxxivxx**

**Marla and Jen made their way** past the secretaries and out toward their rental car.

"That sure was a line drive to left field." said Marla tossing her pad in the back of the car as they got in. "Do you think the Admiral knew that Fazirah Dodge lives in Falls Church?"

Jen turned over the engine. "No, it was just one of those things that happen like the Colonel said 'the left hand not knowing what the right hand is doing'." She turned to the Marine paralegal. "Just think Marla. She's living practically right under our noses. You know what the Admiral will say."

Marla coughed and did a fair impression of Admiral Chegwidden. "Well ladies, I suggest you find her and talk to her."

Jen laughed. Maybe Marla could be a friend after all. "Let's head back to the VOQ, I'm bushed."

Marla's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Dibs on the bed furthest away from the window."

**1247 Local_0947 Zulu  
><strong>**Town square  
><strong>**Mirbullah, Iraq**

**The four JAG lawyers stood with Major Barnett and Captain Johnson** in the town square.

A group of curious townspeople watched these crazy Americans.

"Tell me again which side the AMTRACS and Humvees came in on? Harm looked around the square. _Place enemy soldiers in the upper levels of the buildings surrounding the square and you have a death trap, no matter which direction they came from._

"Behind you," indicated Johnson as he walked over to a bench and sat down with his arms crossed. "The lead AMTRAC commanded by Sergeant Placer got to that point where you're standing, when an RPG round scored a direct hit, killing Placer and most of the crew."

"And Gunny Sanchez's Humvee ended up here?" asked Mac, pointing to the place just behind the marker for Placer's AMTRAC.

"Yeah," nodded Johnson, "Just about there."

"The rest of the company was in a haphazard line behind them." added Vince Barnett. The Major was not entirely convinced this re-creation of the ambush would help any, still Briggs told him to cooperate and he did as he was told. "At the end of that line was Sergeant Ochoa's AMTRAC bringing up the rear."

"So, Ochoa's vehicle was the rear guard…." said Bud as he tapped the keys on his laptop. The Lieutenant had a battle simulation program that he had tweaked for recreating incidents – he got the idea from one of the agents at NCIS.

"Affirmative." replied Barnett as he got up and walked over to where Commander Rabb was standing. "It was destroyed to bottle up the company here in the town square…."

"Okay, according to the official report, after Placer and Ochoa's AMTRACs were destroyed and Gunny Sanchez's Humvee was disabled, the Gunny and the survivors of the both the AMTRAC and his vehicle formed a defensive position here." Harm dropped another marker to indicate the position for the soldiers at that point in time.

Sturgis nodded looking down at his handheld GPS receiver; Coordinates are 34.21 and 25.41, Lieutenant."

"Got it Sir," Bud indicated as he continued typing the information into the laptop, "What happened next?"

Sturgis look over in Mac's direction. "Where are your friends?"

**xxxivxx**

**Two faded tan LAV-25s sat on the outskirts of Mirbullah**. The commanders of these vehicles stood in their turret hatches watching through their binoculars as the JAG attorneys and MEU legal-men scurried back and forth in the roped off town square.

"Ranger Two to Ranger Four, where are we supposed to be right now?"

The commander of Ranger Four, the subdued rank on his lapels indicating he was a Master Sergeant, smirked at his partner's comment. He tapped his radio mike on the CVC helmet. "Colonel MacKenzie said for us to wait here until she contacts us again."

"Roger that."

Ranger Four's radio crackled to life. "LadyM to Ranger Four…."

Ranger Four spoke into his radio mike. "Four here, LadyM."

"Have Two move northwest of your position. You are to move southwest, acknowledge."

Four looked over at his partner and shrugged his shoulders. The other man just shook his head. Ranger Four keyed his mike. "Roger wilco, LadyM. Four out." He then switched to the local vehicle net.

"You heard the Colonel, Two, head northwest, I'll head southwest."

The commander of Ranger Two snorted. "This is some weird game we're playing…."

The Master Sergeant nodded in agreement. "Yeah, see you in a few, out."

Harm watched though his field glasses as Ranger Two headed northeastward. Sturgis was looking at the second hand on his watch. He looked over at his friend. "Now Harm."

Harm made a motion to Bud who tapped a few keys and then called over to the Colonel.

"Ma'am, the Commander says for Master Sergeant Harris to stop his vehicle now."

"Right Bud." She spoke into the mike of her AN/PRC-68 radiotelephone. "Ranger Four this is LadyM, all stop."

The reply from Master Sergeant Harris was almost immediate. "Roger wilco, LadyM."

She watched as Ranger Four's LAV rolled to a dust choked halt. Then she switched channels and spoke again. "Ranger Two this is LadyM, change your direction now and come southeast toward Ranger Four's position."

"Wilco LadyM, on my way."

Harm watched as the second LAV-25 approached Ranger Four's position. He keyed his mike. "Ranger Two this is Navy; do you have a line of sight visual on Four?"

"Wait one, Navy…that's a roge', I have him in sight."

Harm marked the position in his notebook and nodded to Bud who typed the information into the laptop. "Move just past him and stop."

If the LAV commander was the least bit curious about what the JAGs were trying to do, they gave no indication. "Wilco Navy, out."

Like they were engaged in some weird ritual, Ranger Two's LAV moved past Four and rolled to a stop. Clouds of stirred up dust rolled past the vehicles, swirling in the late morning sun and heat.

Harm checked their position. He looked over at the Colonel. "Mac?"

She smiled. "Perfect Harm. Sturgis?"

The former submarine naval Commander was looking down at his watch. "Counting it out now, Mac. Twenty three, twenty two, twenty one, twenty,…now Mac…."

She keyed her mike again. "LadyM to Ranger Two, move into square, just like you were fighting your way in…Ranger Four, move around to the north side of the square and move in through the opening in the wall made by Dodge's AMTRAC."

"Roger wilco LadyM, out."

Ranger Two moved slowly, inching its way into the square. At the same time, Ranger Four drove through the remains of the damaged building and entered the square.

"LadyM to Four, stop at the point indicated by the marker in the sand."

Master Sergeant Harris' LAV stopped squarely over the marker

"If that had been Dodge, he would have killed Sanchez…" Barnett shot Johnson a withering look for that comment.

"Knock it off and let them work. The sooner they get done, the sooner we can get out of here."

"Aye Sir."

Ranger Two was now fully in the square. He continued to inch forward slowly. Mac watched the LAV, and then turned back to the man observing his wrist watch.

"Sturgis?"

He looked up smiling. "Right on schedule, Mac."

She nodded at Harm who keyed mike again. "Four this is Navy; turn and move westward toward the creek, over."

"Wilco Navy." Four's LAV turned and moved west.

"Two this is LadyM, do you have a line of sight visual with Four?"

"That's affirmative, LadyM, he's moving west of me."

"Can you make out who he is?"

Ranger two smiled as his spoke into his radio mike, "I'd know him anywhere Ma'am, yes I can tell who he is at this distance."

Harm marked the final positions of Ranger Four and Ranger Two on his pad. "That corroborates that Dodge, Lewis, Hawkins and Prine could be seen by Fuller and his dismounted scouts. Now let's place the others who witnessed the shooting. Mac?"

Mac flipped open her note pad and referred to her notes. "Sergeant Colwell, Lance Corporals Delfin and Grearson, PFC Rogers and Secord were with Sanchez's group moving toward Dodge's AMTRAC; Corporal Kirtland was dismounted down by Fuller's LAV; Corporal Tacewell was dismounted over by Rover Two; Corporal Dremmond and Lance Corporal Bauer were back near Captain Johnson's current position; and Lieutenant Borden and Sergeant Watkins were just entering the town square."

"Was Corporal Keller here?" asked Sturgis, pointing to a place where Sanchez's Humvee had sat.

"No, he was receiving medical treatment since he had been riding in Beason's LAV when it was destroyed."

Sturgis Turner acknowledged Mac's information. "Okay, Lieutenant, do you have all that?"

"Wait one Commander…. Yes Sir, I have it all in the computer."

"Okay Bud, plot the trajectories of all fire coming from all the people Mac mentioned, including Lukens and Buell."

"Aye Sir."

Bud started tapping again on his keyboard. After a few minutes of examining the screen, a puzzled look crossed his face. "That's not right," he mumbled to himself.

"What's not right, Lieutenant?" Replied Sturgis coming over to where Bud was sitting.

Bud J. Roberts' voice was tinged with annoyance and frustration "Sir, I've plotted all the trajectories from all the weapons fired. According to these plots, Lukens and Buell could have fired the fatal shots."

Sturgis looked smugly at Harm. The aviator/lawyer ignored his academy buddy's self assured grin. Then Bud dropped the other shoe.

"That's not all Sir, this plot also suggests that Sergeant Colwell, Lance Corporal Grearson and PFC Secord could have fired the shots as well. It just doesn't make any sense…." Bud began recalculating the positions of all the people involved and the firing trajectories of their weapons.

Harm started over to Bud's position. "Are you sure Bud?"

The confused Lieutenant looked up at Commander Rabb. "I've checked the plot three times, Sir. It checks out the same each time."

Mac decided it was time to add one more player to the mix. The one person they had excluded up to now. But after her talk last night with Harm, she agreed that he should be included. "Bud, have you added Corpsman Hazon?"

But Bud had already added him. "Yes Ma'am, he was directly behind Sanchez's group, just in front of Captain Lewis, Lieutenant Hawkins and Leftenant Prine. He couldn't have seen the Lieutenants shoot Lieutenant Dodge…nothing adds up, Colonel."

Harm realized what they had stumbled upon. "Oh yes it does Bud, come on, we need to go talk with that Corpsman…."

Bud wasn't sure what Harmon Rabb was alluding to, but he had a good guess. "Sir? Do you think…could he?"

"We'll find out soon enough. Mac, Bud and I are going to find Corpsman Hazon."

The Commander and Lieutenant walked over to their Humvee, got in and drove off in the direction of Al-Nasiriyah. Mac and Sturgis, surprised by the speed with which the aviator/lawyer acted, could only look at the retreating vehicle and wonder what Harmon Rabb, Jr. had stumbled upon.

**1320 Local_1020 Zulu  
><strong>**Main Highway  
><strong>**South of Mirbullah, Iraq**

**Hospital Corpsman [HN2] (Petty Officer 2****nd**** Class) Nick Hazon** was sitting at the foot of a disabled AMTRAC reading his hometown newspaper. It was four weeks old, but it was still nice hearing about news from home, even if it was that old. It was his job to babysit this wreck until the recovery vehicle could come for it. Seemed like a stupid idea to him, but the unit was short handed and well…he knew the rest. The Hospital Corpsman had been with the 36th for three deployments so far and he got along pretty good with his Jarheads. Still, he hoped they all would get to take leave soon. They were going on three months without a break.

He felt a pair of eyes watching him, but ignored them. It was creepy the way these Iraqis sometimes stared at you, but then again, he was a stranger in their land. He guessed if the situation were reversed he would be gawking at these strange people fighting in his country. He turned the page; it looked like the local theatre group was going to be putting on—

"Hey Hazon!"

Nick scowled and pulled his paper down. Across the street stood two smiling Marines from the 36th. "What do you guys want now? I'm kinda busy-"

"Yeah we can see that Corpsman," snorted the shorter of the two Marines. "We just thought you might like to give your eyes a break."

"Yeah, well, you thought wrong." he pulled the paper back up, obscuring his face.

"Hazon, there's someone here to see you, man."

Nick rolled his eyes. These two weren't going to leave him alone until they had had their fun. He gave the paper a frustrated shake which caused it to fold in half. "Look guys, I-"

HN2 Hazon stopped when he saw the happy brown eyes and crinkled nose of the little girl standing by the two Marines. Nick started grinning. The young girl ran over to Nick and gave him a big hug.

A nondescript, sand-dusted, red Toyota jeep rolled to a halt. The occupants watched the scene. "Sully! Get your camera rolling," the man sitting in the driver's seat said quietly. The cameraman, dressed in a dark blue flak jacket and a light blue shirt and tan pants, leaned his mini-cam out the front seat passenger window and began recording the sight. The man in the driver's seat flipped open his notepad, and wrote down his description of what he saw.

"Hey Saddiyah, how's my girl today?" Saddiyah held up her hand and gave the Corpsman a 'thumbs-up'.

"That's my girl…." Nick heard snorting and snickering. He looked back across the street and saw the two Marines smiling broadly at him.

"Don't you guys have something important to do, you know, like throwing yourselves under a truck or something?"

"Oh come on Hazon, you know we just like giving you a hard time," said the taller of the two. "Besides we know you want to spend some quality time with you 'girlfriend'." At that comment both men belly laughed, causing Nick to scowl again and Saddiyah to look at them in puzzlement.

"Don't pay any attention to them honey," Nick said half jokingly to the girl. "They don't know how to act around company."

Saddiyah only knew that Nick's voice was soothing. She grabbed Nick's plain Kevlar helmet and placed it on her head. Being made for an adult head, it obscured the upper part of her face, but her sunny smile could still be seen.

"Hey Corpsman looks like your girl likes your helmet-"

They all started when they heard the door of the truck slam. The shorter Marine started to unsling his rifle.

"Easy, easy, easy." said the man who climbed out of the driver side of the jeep. The cameraman got out and stood behind him, still filming. "We're the good guys here. I'm Stuart Dunston, ZNN."

"Is he filming us, Sir?" asked the tall Marine pointing at the man with the mini-cam.

"It'll make a great human interest story," explained Stuart quickly. "The public loves stories of the soldiers interacting with native children-"

"Sir, do you have the permission-"

"I've got the order right here signed by General Thornton himself," Stuart held out the pink sheet of paper, "See for yourself-"

The tall Marine walked over and took the paper from Stuart's hands.

"As long as we don't ID you by last name, or mention which unit you're with, we're allowed to film-"

"I'm Corporal Lou, This Private Jake, and that's Corpsman Nick and Saddiyah."

Stuart motioned to his cameraman. "Keep rolling Sully," Stuart cleared his throat. "Sound okay? Good, let's do this in three, two…Iraq is a land of contrasts. While in the Sunni Triangle, American soldiers fight for their lives against Fedyeen insurgents, here in Mirbullah, the scene is just the opposite as evidenced by these Marines befriending a local Iraqi girl named Saddilyah-"

"That's Saddiyah."

"Cut Sully," The reporter looked over at Hazon while pulling his pad and pen out of his sports jacket and beginning to scribble. "How do you spell that?"

Nick Hazon rolled his eyes. "Saddiyah pronounced SAAHD-DEE-YAH, S-A-D-D-I-Y-A-H."

"Okay, okay, I got it," said Stuart dismissively, as he wrote the name down on his pad. "Sahaddeeyah, right?"

"Close enough," Nick said sourly. Lou and Jake chuckled as Stuart put the pad and pen back in his sports jacket breast pocket.

"Look fellahs, we're just trying to get a human interest story-"

Dunston's explanation was drowned out by the sound of an approaching HMMWV followed by the roar of an explosion. Both Marines instantly went to the ground and unslung their rifles. Stuart and Sully also hit the ground. Nick went to ground, but he took Saddiyah with him, sheltering her with one big arm while his other hand kept the helmet on her head.

-TBC…


	16. Chapter 15

…**For Meritorious Service, Chapter XV**

"**Dammit!" cursed the taller Marine**. "Hazon! Mr. Dunston! Sound off! Are you okay?!"

"Yeah, just peachy," replied Nick. He looked through the swirling smoke. "Can you guys see what happened?"

"Dunston?!"

"I'm okay Corporal, so is my cameraman-"

"Good! Stay there and don't move!"

"Jake!" called out Nick, "Can you see what happened?!"

"Yeah," grunted Jake, the short Marine. He kept his rifle trained in front of him. "The Fedayeen got another Humvee coming up ka-boom alley."

Dunston looked over at the cameraman who had begun filming again. "Sully! Are you getting this?!"

"Just started, Stuart…" said the man wearily focusing his camera on the soldiers. He was really getting tired to Dunston's flair for the dramatic.

Nick grabbed his medical bag. He looked at Saddiyah. "You stay with them, okay?"

Saddiyah, a bewildered expression on her face, looked at Nick not comprehending. "Stay here Saddiyah," he patted the ground. "Right here, okay?"

Stuart Dunston could see that the girl was frightened, but she gave the Corpsman a thumbs-up sign despite how she really felt.

"Good girl." He turned back to the two Marines. "Jake, stay with Saddiyah and our guests. Lou and I will check out the Humvee…."

"Aye, aye, Corpsman."

Lou got up into a crouch, keeping his assault rifle trained on the swirling smoke. Nick sprinted over to his side.

"You ready?"

Lou rolled his eyes at his friend's false bravado. "Never." He grimly looked back at the burning truck that could now be seen through the smoke. "Let's do this…."

"Track'em Sully, don't lose a frame of this, its gold!"

"Got'em Stuart!" said the man, trying to mimic the star reporter's enthusiasm, as he aimed his minicam directly at the two soldiers.

Both soldiers cautiously moved forward toward the now fiercely burning HMMWV.

As Lou covered his approach, Nick cautiously walked toward the burning wreck.

"Hey!" The Corpsman shouted at the truck. "Anybody in there?!"

A groan answered his question.

Sully filmed as Nick grabbed the heat warped sheet metal door and yanked it open. He pulled the semi-conscious driver out, draped him across his shoulders, and carried the man back to where Lou was standing. Gingerly, Nick laid the Korean soldier down on the oil stained pavement.

The driver began coughing violently as Nick began examining him. I am a medic. Where does it hurt?" The corpsman asked clinically in perfect Korean.

"Inside...chest..." the injured man gasped, screwing his eyes shut. Nick held him down to keep him from moving and further injuring himself.

"Like you just hit a brick wall?" The man nodded between gasps.

"Well, you've got a broken hand and…some pretty nasty contusions on your face. That cut on face will probably need stitches…all in all you were pretty lucky— I must stop the bleeding. Don't tense up."

Don't worry. The man looked over at the burning Humvee, now starting to lose its structural integrity, as its front end sagged lower.

It'll be okay. Advised the medic as he checked the man for other injuries. Nick Hazon figured at least a couple of ribs were cracked, if not completely broken. The man was lucky; the improvised explosive device [IED] was not a precise weapon. Still, they suited the Fedayeen's purpose; to disrupt the normal routine of the day and, if fortunate, maybe kill some of the Coalition soldiers.

The Korean looked again at the rapidly melting remains of the Humvee and wondered out loud if it would have been better if he had died in the blast. Nick knew what the man meant, but he wanted to boost the man's morale and crying over spilt milk, or in this case burnt HMMWV, wouldn't repair it.

"Nah, your commanding officer will be glad that you're alive." He winked at the injured man, "One less casualty for ZNN to report on the nightly news." Nick looked at the truck now rapidly being consumed by the flames. "Yeah, they just wanted to slow you down," the medic said grinning wryly. "If they had really wanted to kill you, they would have planted a bigger improvised explosive device and blown you to kingdom come-"

"Soldier, I'm Stuart Dunston, ZNN, thank God you're alive, what is your name?" Stuart and Sully were standing over both soldiers. Stuart couldn't see Sully rolling his eyes and shaking his head at the ZNN reporter's false concern. _Anything to get a scoop…._

The medic cut his eyes toward Lou who grabbed the two men by the arms. "Mr. Dunston, you and your cameraman need to stay back and let Nick do his job…."

**xxxvxx**

**Bud slowed as the Marine frantically waved one of his arms**. In the other, he held a little girl wearing a Kevlar medic's helmet.

Bud stopped and put on the brake. The soldier, still carrying the girl, walked up to idling HMMWV.

"What's going on?" Bud could see the billowing black smoke, but not its cause.

"Fedayeen blew up another Humvee," the Marine looked at Bud's subdued collar tabs. "…Sir."

Harm, a puzzled look crossing his features, glanced over at the girl. "Was she hurt?"

Jake looked down at Saddiyah and then back at the Commander. "No Sir, she was with us. The Corpsman and the Corporal-they are with the injured, Sir."

Bud put the truck in park as Harm got out. "Bud, stay here with them." he ordered.

"Yes Sir."

Harm advanced into the smoke and could see five figures on the other side of the wreck. As he walked closer, a gust of wind whipped the smoke from his vision, revealing a Corpsman tending a wounded man who was lying down. Watching the perimeter was the Corporal and standing next to him was a reporter and cameraman who were filming the scene. Harm groaned inwardly, _Not Dunston…anybody but him…._

The Corporal spotted Harm and leveled his rifle at him. "Halt!"

"I'm Commander Harmon Rabb, JAG Corps," said Harm holding up his hands to show he didn't have a weapon in his hands.

"Rabb! What are you doing out here?! Sully? Are you getting all this?"

"Yeah Stuart," Sully reluctantly swung his camera toward the Commander. He really didn't want to do this anymore. They had been up since dawn and frankly, he was exhausted and just wanted to crawl into a bed of any sort.

Lou looked skeptically at the naval commander. "Sir, this guy doesn't need a lawyer, he needs an ambulance."

Harm shot the Marine an irritated look. "We can make room for a stretcher." Harm turned back to the Corpsman, ignoring for the moment, Stuart and his helper. "Do you think he can make it?"

"Well, he'll have a hell of a headache Commander," replied Nick, "And his ribs are going to be sore for some time, but just to be on the safe side, let's keep him lying down. There's a backboard in that AMTRAC over there, would you go get it?"

Stuart watched the unfolding scene mesmerized. This would get him a special report slot - maybe even a weekend desk every once in a while. "Keep filming Sully, don't stop for a second."

"Got it Stuart," said Sully as he panned the camera, following Harm as he sprinted over to the AMTRAC and opened its back door. Next to a duffle bag was the backboard. He pulled it out and carried it back over to the Corpsman.

Nick looked up at the lawyer. "Let's get him on this backboard."

Harm turned to Stuart and the cameraman. "Do you think you two could stop reporting on this long enough to help us get him over to my Humvee?"

Sully sheepishly lowered his camera. Secretly he was glad he had to stop. Stuart, sensing a chance to look magnanimous, started forward, "Sure Commander, what do you need us to do…."

**xxxvxx**

**Bud watched as five figures walked out of the smoke** carrying a stretcher - Commander Rabb, a Corpsman, a Corporal, Stuart Dunston and another guy, probably a cameraman.

_Oh Great,_ thought Bud disgustedly, _With Stuart Dunston here, there's bound to be trouble…._

They maneuvered the stretcher over to the bed of the Humvee, and carefully lowered the wounded man down into it.

Once the wounded Korean driver was secured to the bed of their HMMWV, the cameraman ran back into the smoke. Bud watched dumbfounded.

"What's he going back for, sir?"

"His camera Bud," Harm looked up at Stuart's grime covered face. "Close enough to the action for you Mr. Dunston?"

"Commander, we have an obligation to report the news," explained Stuart defensively, "My cameraman and I were out looking for human interest stories-"

"Sorry to interrupt Sir," said Hazon cutting off the ZNN reporter, "But we need to get this man to an aid station. The Koreans have set one up in the Central Business District in Al Nasiriyah."

Harm for the first time since they arrived at the bombed truck, noticed the name on the Corpsman's uniform. "Corpsman Nicholas Hazon?"

Hazon returned Harm's look. "Yeah?"

_Maybe our luck is finally turning on this case,_ thought Harm. "As soon as we get this driver to the aid station, we need to talk to you…."

Sully returned through the smoke and turned on his mini-cam, focusing it right at Bud.

"Uh hey!" Bud said shielding his face and turning away from the man, "Turn that thing off!"

Harm looked back at Bud trying to hide his face from the camera. He turned back to Stuart, the Commander's eyes flashing a steely blue. "Tell the man to turn it off, Dunston."

Stuart Dunston was stunned by Harmon Rabb Jr.'s brusque command. "Why Commander? We're just reporting on some breaking news, we've already got you on film and-"

The Commander was in no mood to negotiate. "Get him to turn it off Dunston. Now!"

Stuart, not used to the normally calm Commander Harmon Rabb snapping at him so viciously, involuntarily took a step backwards. He glanced over at the cameraman. "Cut it off."

Sully, as surprised as Dunston was, slowly turned off the camera and reluctantly lowered it

"What's this all about Rabb?" began Stuart in his best investigative reporter voice. "You can't just order us-"

But the aviator/lawyer was ready for this. "Under the Rules for Media Cooperation in Combat Operations, Clause two, paragraph three: The Senior Officer on the battlefield has the right to order members of the media to halt filming if they are deemed to be endangering the lives of United States military personnel, and if necessary, to confiscate said film and/or camera if he or she so chooses."

Stuart Dunston's reply was almost scoffing. "Endangering the lives of United States military personnel? That's rich! Commander in case you didn't notice, we're reporting on a news event."

The Commander was not about to be deterred. "Which involves a soldier of the Korean armed forces. You and your cameraman may attract a crowd that would be unfriendly to both American and Korean military personnel, placing their lives in jeopardy. You've seen what happens when American personnel are attacked by the Fedayeen. What do you think they'll do to few poorly armed soldiers and wounded Korean soldier? Do you want to explain that to the Commander of the Korean peacekeeping contingent?"

The reporter knew that Harmon Rabb, Jr. had him dead to rights. "Okay Rabb, okay. Take it easy, what's got you so riled anyway?"

Harm was now projecting his pent up frustration on the hapless reporter. "You're interfering-"

Stuart, having been a field reporter for so many years, knew when there was more to a story than what was being told. "Inferring in what? Oh that's right, you and Lieutenant Roberts wouldn't be here unless you were investigating some kind of problem. Come on Rabb, you can tell me. What is it?"

"There's been a murder-" began the Corpsman. Both Harm and Bud looked at him as if he had announced he was dying.

Stuart, eager for a scoop, pounced on the slip of the tongue. "A murder?! Sully get that camera going again-"

Responding to his co-worker's request, the cameraman reluctantly powered up the

mini-cam and focused his spot lamp on Commander Rabb's face.

Harm was barely able to control his fury. His voice reflected that. "Corpsman, I would advise you to remain silent." He turned back to the ZNN reporter. "Mr. Dunston, I am only going to say this one more time. Have that man lower that camera, or I'll call the MPs and have you brought up on charges of interfering with an official investigation."

"That's bull Rabb," snorted Stuart, confident he had the Commander's number. "You wouldn't dare because now you're interfering with freedom of the press!"

"Try me Mr. Dunston. I've had a really bad couple of days lately…." Bud's eyes darted from the pissed off navy man to the smug cable television reporter. It became a staring contest. Two seconds, four seconds, ten seconds, twenty, thirty seconds passed….

Realizing his bluff had been called, Stuart Dunston faltered. He averted his eyes from Harm's steel gaze. "Turn it off Sully, and leave it off." he mumbled to the cameraman. The man, glad it was over, turned off his spot lamp and lowered the mini-cam.

"So what are you going to do Rabb, confiscate our tape?"

"No Mr. Dunston, but you're going to give me your word that Lieutenant Roberts and I won't appear in your report and then as you should, you're going to report to the Commander of the Korean contingent what you have filmed…."

**1340 Local_ 1040 Zulu  
><strong>**Aid Station Charlie  
><strong>**Central Business District  
><strong>**Al-Nasiriyah, Iraq**

**Thai army nurse Pilipi Utadej stood watching as soldiers from the Italian Sassari Brigade** tried to keep a semblance of order to the triage crowds just inside the aid station compound. She gazed as her fellow nurses and doctors assessed the injuries, taking the badly injured and most infirm in first followed by the lesser cases. Crowds of men, women and children of various ages moved through the compound, urged by the Italian security force to keep moving if they did not have any relatives in the hospital itself. A few would protest, but most shuffled away, back into the streets. But the crowd did not shrink, because for every one that left four more would bring their injured and wounded.

As one of the Caporal Maggiores escorted one old woman from the front main hospital tent/building, a HMMWV pulled into the compound. Pilipi could see the truck was manned by US naval officers and Marines. In the back of the truck was a stretcher case.

_Time to go to work,_ she thought as walked over to the idling Humvee. The driver, a navy lieutenant, was busy trying to talk to the Sassari Sargente who understood very little English. Unfortunately, the Lieutenant understood very little Italian.

Pilipi cut in between a group of gathering Iraqis who were now crowding around the truck. The other naval officer was working with a Marine gunner and … and Nick Hazon. She caught the eye of a young nurse who had just emerged from the main tent. Pilipi motioned for her to come over and help.

She and the young nurse moved up beside the Commander and Nick. "What do we have?" she said in perfect English.

Nick nodded to her in as much acknowledgement to her presence as he could give in the current situation. "This soldier was wounded by an IED, Nurse Utadej. We've stabilized him, but Dr. Soong should look him over for internal injuries."

She cut a quick glace to her young cohort standing by her. "Let's get him inside." She turned back to the two Americans. "Corpsman, Commander, can you assist us please? We're a little short staffed right at the moment…."

"Of course," replied Nick graciously. _Maybe a little too politely_, but then again Harm had to wonder how much he 'saw' was real and how much was his projecting his relationship on other people he thought might be couples. _Watch yourself Rabb,_ he muttered to himself as they picked up the stretcher and carried the wounded Korean soldier into the hospital tent.

**0924 Local_1324 Zulu  
><strong>**JAG Headquarters  
><strong>**Falls Church, Virginia**

**Jason had been in the Admiral's office **for a little under ten minutes. The Admiral had been called over to the Pentagon earlier, so Jason decided to take advantage of this opportunity and look for the report that Commanders Mattoni and Imes had requested his help in finding. At first the Petty Officer was going to refuse, but Carolyn Imes was a tough woman – er, Commander to refuse.

Fifteen minutes; he hovered over the Admiral's desk visually sifting through the tiled stacks, trying to find the prize he was seeking. The Commanders told him it would be easy to spot. ((_Hah, what a laugh; they said it was in a manila folder with a dark blue – there it is!)_ He carefully pulled the file from the stack, careful not to upset the balance of the files. Jason opened the thick folder to verify he had what he needed.

"Boy this is-"

"Tiner! What are you doing in the Admiral's Office?!" Lieutenant Harriet Sims stood in the doorway looking sternly at the senior noncommissioned officer, her arms planted akimbo on her hips.

The Petty Officer snapped the folder shut and looked up at Lieutenant Harriet Sims with something akin to fear in his eyes. "I uh, that is, I um…well…."

"He's helping me, Lieutenant."

Both turned to see Lieutenant Commander John Burford standing in Tiner's office. Harriet surprisingly wasn't fazed. "With what Commander?"

"I needed to get a copy of the Grace Adoption proceedings."

Harriet looked nonplussed and her stern look didn't fade.

"For my pre-trial statements," added Commander Burford somewhat hastily.

Harriet continued to stare at John. Jason Tiner was glad he wasn't under the Lieutenant's intense scrutiny for the moment. Better the Commander than him. Still, she blocked the exit – there was no way he was going to get past her without a cross-examination.

At that moment Alan Mattoni came down the hall into the bullpen. Looking past Harriet, he fixed Tiner and Burford with a piercing intent look. "Commander Burford, Petty Officer, did you get Grace Adoption proceedings as I requested?"

"Yes Sir," replied both men. Tiner walked over and quickly handed the folder to Commander Mattoni. "It was sitting on his desk, sir. Just like you said."

Harriet turned on Alan. "You sent them in here?"

Mattoni opened the folder and pretended to study the contents, ignoring Harriet's piercing mom stare. "Good, good, this is just what we need Burford."

"Tiner was the one who knew where it was, sir." John quickly supplied, hoping that would keep him in good graces with Harriet, after all, he was just following orders.

Mattoni briefly looked at the sweating Petty Officer, "Thank you Tiner."

"You're welcome sir." Jason Tiner said almost breathlessly. He didn't dare look at Harriet, who was now shifting her stare from Commander Mattoni to him.

"Tiner is anything wrong?" asked Alan offhandedly.

"No sir," replied the Petty Officer, noticing the sweat running down the side of his face, "Not at all, why do you ask, sir?"

"You look a little sweaty." Harriet said with equal parts of suspicion and concern in her voice.

He looked over at Commander Mattoni hoping for a little help. "It's a little warm in here, sir."

"It's not warm," Harriet looked doubtfully at Jason. "In fact, it's downright cold in here."

He had to think quickly. "Uh sir, I have some files in the basement I need to pick up for the Admiral, may I be excused?"

"Of course Tiner," replied Alan just as quickly. Harriet started to open her mouth but thought better of it.

"Thank you sir." Jason Tiner bolted for the double doors leading to the elevator.

They watched as the Petty Officer First Class reached the elevator and dashed in as it opened.

When it closed, all three began smiling.

"That'll teach him to put a typo virus on my computer," Harriet said with a satisfied smile on her lips.

"How long are you going to keep torturing him?" Alan asked, amused by her performance.

"Oh, not too long sir, just long enough to make him sweat for a while." Both Alan and John shook their heads at her comment.

"Remind me never to get on your bad side Lieutenant," replied John.

"And why is that Commander Burford?"

All three looked around to see Carly Clemons, Carolyn Imes and Jennifer Coates making their way into the bullpen.

Harriet turned to face the bwitch, her voice low and grim. "Because I sometimes have to have talks with those people behind locked doors."

Jennifer Coates had heard what had happened to Lieutenant Loren Singer when she pressed Harriet too far and it had taken Loren two years to push her to that point. Carly had almost managed to do it in two days.

"Major, we really need to prepare for the Brussard hearing this afternoon." said Jennifer trying to urge Carly away from an obviously angry Harriet Sims, but Carly was not one to back away from a challenge. Especially one made by a junior officer.

"Don't be too sure of yourself, Lieutenant. I've had several junior officers challenge me and they've all lost – some have even been dishonorably discharged."

Carolyn and Alan thought a fight was going to break out right then and there. The rest of the bullpen staff who had been watching since Jason Tiner bolted for the elevator, collectively held their breath. Carly and Harriet ignored everyone else, each trying to stare the other down.

Jennifer, desperate to avoid a fight from breaking out, instinctively began pulling at Carly's arm. "Come on ma'am, the Brussard hearing, remember? You really do need to go over your opening arguments again…."

Carly's eyes swiveled down to Jennifer's hand. "Let go of me, Petty Officer," said the Marine Major in low voice full of anger. "…Now." Jennifer, regaining her senses, pulled her hand away from the woman. With the offending hand off her, Carly broke into a bright insincere smile. "You're right though, Coates, we should work on the Brussard hearing."

Carly slowly backed away from Harriet. But, as she did, Carly winked at the Lieutenant indicating the battle was far from over. "I'm keeping my eye on you, Lieutenant Sims."

"Yes ma'am, I'm sure you are." replied Harriet through clenched teeth as she watch Carly and Jennifer head into Singer's office. _Ohh that bwitch! I'm gonna—_

"Lieutenant!" Alan snapped her out of her black thoughts. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine sir," she replied somewhat shakily. She straightened and smoothed her dress to relieve some of the tension that had built up in her body. The urge for fight or flight was still coursing through her. "Is everything in the file that they need?"

Alan looked at Carolyn and then back at Harriet. "Yes," he said tentatively.

She took the folder from him, "I'll get it faxed to Mirbullah, sir." Harriet headed over to the fax machine and began setting it up to make the call.

Carolyn walked over to Alan and both stood watching her. "Do you think she is okay?"

Alan turned to her partner. "No, and I think a showdown is imminent."

John Burford sighed heavily. He had to do something. He couldn't let the Lieutenant's career be ruined by Carly.

**-TBC…**


	17. Chapter 16

…**For Meritorious Service, Chapter XVI**

**1403 Local_1103 Zulu  
><strong>**36****th**** BLT Headquarters  
><strong>**Near Mirbullah, Iraq**

**Mac and Sturgis walked over to the guard station** in front of the abandoned government building that served as the 3-2's battalion headquarters. Ashton Briggs' personal quarters were on the other side of the Battalion Landing Team (BLT) Headquarters compound. There were a few lessons that had been learned since Beirut BLT truck bombing back in 1983, but the majority of the battalion's offices were still located either inside the government building or in tents and semi-permanent structures surrounding the government building.

Mac released the clip from her gun, as did the Navy Commander. Both handed them to the security guards. Then in turns, both lawyers cocked their handguns and then stuck them in a barrel filled with sand and pulled the trigger. It really wasn't necessary because both made certain rounds weren't chambered in their weapons, but rules were rules. Besides, there was no sense aggravating Briggs anymore than they already had.

When they finished at the checkpoint, both headed for Briggs' office quarters in the government building. Inside, having taken off their boonie hats and dusted themselves off, they found the duty guard who pointed toward the right room. Mac looked briefly at Sturgis when the reached the door to the room. Sturgis Turner simply shrugged, leading Mac to knock briskly on the closed door.

"Come,"

Mac entered the room followed by Sturgis. Both came to attention. "Colonel MacKenzie and Commander Turner reporting as ordered, Sir."

"At ease, Colonel, Commander," said Briggs almost casually as the man seated in the chair in front of his desk turned around, "I'm sure you know General Thornton."

Mac's eyes bulged as did Sturgis' "General!" Both immediately went back to attention as Ashton Briggs chuckled.

"Colonel, Commander, at ease," rumbled Brigadier General Cody Thornton. The large barrel-chested man got up from his chair and faced the two JAG Corps officers. "Colonel Briggs was just telling me the details of your investigation."

Mac cut a quick glance at Briggs who was smiling slightly.

"Yes Sir," replied Sturgis Turner, "The Colonel and I had just finished a recreation of the crime scene-"

"Did you find anything new?" interrupted Briggs.

"Possibly Sir." The Colonel threw her a disgusted look, "Commander Rabb and Lieutenant Roberts found indications that another party might be involved."

If the General had noticed Sarah MacKenzie's intense look aimed at Briggs, he didn't indicate it. "Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr.?" Mac and Sturgis nodded. "I'm familiar with his methods – a bit unorthodox isn't he?"

"Some have said that Sir," replied Mac, "But he gets the job done"

"What's this I hear about another death?" continued Thornton, obviously wanting more news about this latest incident.

"One of the soldiers from Lieutenant Hawkins' unit, Sir," said Briggs trying to soft pedal the news. "Doc says he's been depressed since he didn't make Force Recon."

"Sir, that doesn't explain why he threatened Colonel MacKenzie-"

Sure it does Commander," shot back Briggs, "PFC Krivstad was despondent and suicidal. His mentor had been killed by Lukens and Buell and he just got carried away when he threatened Colonel MacKenzie. When he realized what he had done, in remorse, he killed himself."

Mac couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"Colonel?" Thornton's eyes narrowed. "Do you disagree with Colonel Briggs' answer?"

"Sir," Mac worked hard to keep herself composed, *Our investigation* of the crime scene indicates that someone else could have fired the shots that killed Lieutenant Dodge, and the Doctor who examined PFC Krivstad, indicated that he had been *murdered* then thrown into the canal."

"The Doctor made *a mistake*," Briggs said stiffly, looking from Mac to General Thornton. "His follow-up report notes that Krivstad had bouts with depression from the day he entered the Corps and specifies the bruising on his throat was made when he dived off into the canal."

"General Thornton, I respectfully have to disagree with Colonel Briggs. There was substantial evidence-"

"Colonel!" snapped Briggs irritably, "That report was made at 0300 in the morning, surely-"

Begging your pardon Colonel," interrupted Sturgis, "But when did the Doctor reach this new conclusion?"

He did a re-examination this morning," he held Mac with a piercing glare. "After he had some more sleep." He then turned his attention back to General Thornton. "It was obvious that he had been hasty in his initial findings about Krivstad."

"Do you mind if I look at the report?"

Mac barely reigned in her boiling anger at what she was hearing. She looked on in disbelief as Briggs handed Sturgis a copy.

"Colonel, General could you excuse us?" Mac gently but firmly tugged on the Naval Commander's arm.

Sturgis hastily added. "Colonel MacKenzie and I need to confer about this new evidence."

Briggs smiled. "Of course, Commander, there's a conference room right down the hall on your left."

Both Mac and Sturgis excused themselves and headed to the conference room. Mac was barely able to restrain herself. When they got in the room and closed the door, The Marine Lieutenant Colonel exploded.

"Who does he think we are? Some bumpkins that fell off a passing turnip truck?! Can you believe that load of bull he was tossing around in there?!"

Commander Sturgis Turner was unusually calm, "Mac I think you should look at the report first before denouncing it…."

Mac was livid. "Sturgis have you lost your mind?! You were there when we pulled Krivstad's body out of that canal! Did those injuries look self inflicted to you?!"

The former submarine officer turned lawyer continued his patient tone. "Look Mac, it's as big a shock to me as it was to you, but maybe we were wrong-"

"Sturgis don't hand me that." Mac said dismissively.

That irritated the Commander. "Look Mac-"

But she was ready for this. "Don't 'look Mac' me, Commander!"

Sturgis Turner was usually a calm dispassionate counselor, but the Marine Lieutenant Colonel had pushed his buttons. "Mac! You and Harm are on a personal crusade to save these two pilots and you've almost got Bud roped into your scheme as well!"

Mac decided to goad him for siding with the enemy. "Is that what this is about Sturgis? The fact that no one is left on your team?"

Sturgis tried to regain control of the careening conversation. "Mac you're making a complicated situation too simple-"

But Mac would have none of it. Her brown eyes flashed with anger. "And you're making a simple situation too complicated! God, I'm used to having this kind of argument with Harm, not with you Sturgis!"

That elicited a sharp rebuke. "Well if you would stop ramming your head against a brick wall for about five seconds-"

But she wasn't fazed. She was incensed that one of their own could actually side with that jackass MEU Commander. "I am not 'ramming my head against a brick wall' Commander, you're the one who's taken a virtual trip to Fantasyland!"

Sturgis started to head for the door, "I see it's impossible to have a rational discussion with you about this-"

"Don't play high and mighty with me Commander! Since when have you started believing what Briggs says? Don't you remember what he said about all of us a few days ago?"

Sturgis stopped and turned around. "I remember Mac, but I also remember we're here to do a job and examine all the evidence-"

She pulled back. Was she so blinded by her anger against Briggs that it kept her from being fair? Still, a part of her seethed at Briggs' accusation. "Even if that evidence is conjured out of thin air?"

"Mac, just take a look at the report…."

Sarah MacKenzie looked at the report Sturgis Turner was holding out to her. Reluctantly she took it and began reading. The former bubblehead watched her intently, trying to gauge her response.

She had to give it one last try. Her bruised ego demanded it. "How do we know this isn't made up?"

"The truth is Mac, *we don't*, but we can't just dismiss it out of hand either."

She didn't want to admit it, but he did have a point. She and Harm would have to disprove the Doctor's report.

"Okay Sturgis-"

At that moment the door opened. Ashton Briggs stuck his head in the doorway. "I trust you two have discussed the new evidence…."

Sturgis spoke up before another battle started. "We've reached an agreement if that's what you mean."

"Good, good. Then you won't have any problem arguing this and any other evidence you have at the inquiry-"

"An inquiry?" Mac wasn't ready for that one. "When-?"

"General Thornton has reviewed the evidence and decided to convene a hearing to determine if there is enough evidence to support a trial."

Mac realized their job to clear Lukens and Buell had just gotten exponentially tougher.

**1440 Local_1140 Zulu  
><strong>**Aid Station Charlie  
><strong>**Al-Nasiriyah, Iraq**

**Harm sat on a bench in the hallway** of the makeshift hospital. He looked at his notes again. Hazon had to have seen what had happened. If he could get him to talk, then all the other pieces would fall into place. Bud unknowingly had been right; Hazon was the key.

Harm looked up and down the hallway; doctors, nurses, orderlies and corpsmen attended to the injured and wounded. Some were soldiers; others were civilians who had been caught in the crossfire. They were also attending to several sick men, women and children. Most were being treated behind closed curtains. The wail of sick children and general chaos caused by the doctors and nurses discussing their various cases made it difficult for the aviator/lawyer to order his thoughts.

"Mind if I sit down beside you?"

Harm looked up to see a doctor about his age of Korean decent standing next to him. The name tag on olive drab medical smock read "Dr. Roh Soong" With all noise and confusion swirling around him, the Navy Commander had not noticed the doctor walk up.

"Not at all doctor, go ahead." Harm scooted over a little to his left to allow the tired looking doctor to sit down beside him.

The doctor wiped sweat and grease away from his forehead with his handkerchief. He looked over at the American officer.

"You waiting for someone?"

Harm traded a tired smile with the medical officer. "Yeah, I'm waiting for Corpsman Hazon…."

The doctor nodded indicating his understanding. "You might have to wait a few more minutes."

Harm looked back at the man for an explanation.

"He's visiting some of the patients. They wouldn't like it if he didn't finish his visits with them."

The doctor smiled at the confusion that clouded the naval Commander's face.

He got up and quirked his finger at the Commander. "Come with me."

Curious, Harm got up and followed the doctor down the crowded hall to one of the treatment rooms walled off by a rough olive drab curtain. The doctor motioned him over and quietly pulled the curtain open just enough so that Harmon Rabb, Jr. could surreptitiously peer inside.

In the room, he saw the Corpsman talking softly with an Iraqi boy, who was not more than five years old. While his mother held him, Nick Hazon expertly drew a syringe and stuck the preoccupied boy in the arm. He never even noticed.

"He has a great beside manner." remarked Harm watching as Nick Hazon continued to talk to the boy, getting him to smile.

"Yes he does…." agreed the doctor. He turned and faced the navy officer. "What do you need to talk to him for, Commander?"

Attorney Harmon Rabb became all business. "The Corpsman may have witnessed a murder and may have inadvertently learned who the murderer is."

"That's a very conditional reason for talking to Nick. What is the real motivating factor behind you wanting to talk to him?" The doctor pinned the navy man with his curious yet combative-protective stance.

Harm for some reason knew that nothing less than the truth would be accepted by this man. He cast his eyes to one side hoping to avoid the man's accusatory stare. "He's one of handful of witnesses we've found so far that may be able to prove that a Cobra helo crew did not murder a Lieutenant in the combat engineers."

The doctor half smiled. "You're referring to the death of Lieutenant Philip Dodge in which Lieutenants Benjamin Lukens and Fredrick Buell have been implicated. Colonel Briggs has indicated these two men are guilty of murder and in the process of this investigation, you've determined these men didn't do it and now you're trying to get them off the hook, so to speak."

The Commander was surprised this Korean doctor could know such much about this case. "How do you…."

"…Know so much about what happened and what you're doing? Dr. Soong smiled patiently at the navy commander's confusion and awe. "The first part, Nick told me about," Harm smiled wryly at this obvious answer that he had overlooked. "The second part comes from noting by your uniform insignias that are with the JAG Corps and your insistence on talking to Nick despite the number of witnesses that you have already interviewed." That statement elicited another shocked look from the attorney. "I'm guessing I hit pretty close to the target."

Harm chuckled, "Doctor, did anyone ever tell you would have made a good detective?"

Dr. Soong laughed gently, "My father said I should be one, but I was more interested in healing people and medicine."

**xxxvixx**

**Mac, Sturgis, General Thornton and Colonel Briggs were seated** at the conference table. On the screen of the videoconference equipment was the image of a stoic A.J. Chegwidden.

"AJ, I've reviewed the evidence and I really don't see any reason why the hearing can't take place," 2 MEB Commander, Brigadier Cody Thornton said as he looked over his reading glasses at the Admiral, "Do you have any objections?"

"Cody, has Commander Rabb reported his findings yet?"

The General looked at Ashton Briggs who quickly shook his head 'no'. Thornton turned back to the screen. "No AJ, but Ash told me his report probably wouldn't turn up anything useful…."

Mac knew that's what Briggs would say.

"Cody, I think you should wait to hear from the Commander first…."

"AJ, now I know how much you value the man's opinion, but do you really think the Commander can find anything to exonerate Lukens or Buell?"

"I know that he is a persistent lawyer when it comes to finding the truth-"

"AJ, there is a fine line between persistent and annoying. Besides, this hearing has been delayed long enough…."

As AJ continued to verbally spar with the General, Mac did a quick check of her internal clock while glancing down at her watch.

1445 local. Her watch was two minutes and twenty three seconds off, again. She'd have to get herself a new one sometime, otherwise someone would be surprised when she gave the wrong time.

Right now there were more important matters to attend to. There had to be some way they could even up the odds. Mac frantically searched her mind for something that could make this less of a kangaroo court for those men. Every possible solution that she could think of contained a myriad of booby traps that could conceivably blow up in their faces and leave them worse off than they were now. _C'mon MacKenzie, think_…

Something caught Mac's eye as she looked up at the screen. The room being used for the videoconferencing was a converted courtroom—one she had used when—_That's it!_

AJ and Thornton were debating about why Harm was trying to find Corpsman Hazon when Mac interrupted. "Admiral, Colonel, General - who will be the judge for these proceedings?" All three senior officers turned and looked at Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie. Sturgis couldn't believe that Mac had just stuck her neck out within biting distance of three lions.

"Colonel what are you driving at?" rumbled Cody Thornton ominously.

"Cody, Ash; let's hear her out." The Admiral fixed the Marine lawyer with a pointed stare, "Colonel, would you care to elaborate on why you want to know this?"

"Um, well sir, I was thinking that maybe it might be a good idea – to show there is no bias, that is – by having one of the judges from JAG Headquarters come and preside over the hearing."

Ashton Briggs turned to Cody Thornton. "I'm not sure about this, sir."

AJ interceded before the General could voice his doubts. "Cody it makes sense; it would show you are giving the men a fair hearing and, if necessary, a fair trial despite the pregnant pause in due process. I can ask Admiral Morris to have one of his judges on the next flight to Baghdad."

"The General seemed to chew on that idea for a few moments. "It would help some with the due process problem…." said Cody Thornton thinking aloud. "When is Commander Rabb supposed to report his findings, AJ?"

"1600 your time, Cody."

"That would allow you to send a judge on the next flight from Andrews…Ash, what do you think?"

Ashton Briggs decided not to fight this. After all the odds were in his favor that those screwups would be found guilty. He began nodding his head slowly. "We could have the hearing day after tomorrow, Sir. That would give Rabb and MacKenzie time to gather their witnesses and we will finally be able to get some resolution on this mess."

Thornton smiled. "Sounds good to me…." He turned to screen again. "AJ, when can you talk to Admiral Morris?"

The former SEAL opened a calendar and looked down the page. "He's finishing up a hearing right now." He looked up at the two Marine officers. "I'll speak to him as soon as he is done."

Brigadier General Cody Thornton's smile got wider, if that is possible. "Great AJ, thanks for your help with this…."

"You can thank Colonel MacKenzie, General. She may be a little unorthodox in her methods, but she's a damn fine lawyer and may have just given you the legitimacy you needed."

When both officers looked toward her and Sturgis Turner, AJ looked at her with admiration. _Way to go Marine,_ he thought, _Ooo-rah!_

**xxxvixx**

**Rear Admiral (lower half) and JAG Corps Judge Stiles Morris had just arrived** in his office. He began looking through the stack of messages left on his desk while he was on the bench, when he heard a knock on his doorjamb. He turned to see the Judge Advocate General, AJ Chegwidden, standing in his doorway.

Stiles Morris smiled. "AJ, what are you doing here in 'Judge Country'?"

The Admiral smiled in return. It was one of his business smiles. He shook the head judge's hand and settled into the chair in front of his desk. "I need a favor Stiles,"

"As long as it doesn't compromise one of the cases that your attorneys are presenting, I'll see what I can do." He smiled again good naturedly at the Admiral.

AJ became all business. "The 36th MEU in Mirbullah is holding a hearing to determine whether there is enough evidence to bring a Cobra crew up on murder charges."

The veteran judge who had been with the JAG Corps since Chegwidden came on board back in 1996 did not bat an eye. His smile did fade though. "Does this have to do with the Dodge case?"

AJ sighed and nodded sagely. "It does."

"I don't know Admiral," he said adopting AJ's business tone, "Why?"

AJ was used to this dance. He had done it with same rank officers a hundred times before. _Now the horse trading begins…_ "Stiles, it would help move this case along to have an unbiased judge presiding. I could really use your help."

"And you want to see if one of my people is available to do the job, right?"

"That's about the size of it."

Admiral Morris walked around to the back of his desk and sat down in his overstuffed chair. The walls of his office were fairly spartan, reflecting the Chief judge's style. "It'll leave me short-handed." He returned.

"It's left me four lawyers short too, Stiles," AJ acknowledged, hoping that would help sway the man. If that didn't do it, AJ Chegwidden had one more card to play. "But the SecNav considers this such an important case that he shifted four attorneys from overseas to JAG Headquarters until my people complete the job. I'm sure he'd be willing to do the same for you."

Stiles Morris knew a good offer when he saw one. He was glad that he and AJ could do this and besides getting another judge in here would keep the peace. There were constant rumblings about the increased workload since September 11, and Rabb and MacKenzie were no longer available to hear cases. _Probably because they are the investigators in Iraq, _thought Morris_, Well, at least I won't have to worry about Rabb shooting up my courtroom…._

The Chief JAG Corps judge picked up a spiral bound calendar book from his desk and thumbed through it. "I think I have two possibles. Let's go see what they say…."

**xxxvixx**

**JAG Corps judge naval Commander Amy Helfman sat looking at her email** – 267 unopened messages. She sighed as she closed her email box. _Maybe I can get to them after the Murzinski hearing this afternoon –maybe…._

She switched to an open document and continued listing her reasons for recusing herself from an upcoming trial on her docket. She almost didn't hear the knock on her closed door.

"Come," she said, not really looking through the blinds on her door window to see who it was who wanted to talk with her. She just knew she had to get this memorandum done before her next case started. Her first inkling about who was visiting her happened when she caught a glimpse of the starched white uniforms…

She stopped typing and started to get up. "Sir, Admiral; what can I do for you?

Stiles Morris waved at her indicating that it was all right to stay seated. Judge Helfman started to sit back down. She stopped in mid motion when she heard his request. "Commander, Admiral Chegwidden needs a judge to go to Mirbullah to preside over a hearing."

She did a quick mental check of her calendar. "Sir, with all due respect, the Peterson court martial begins on Thursday. I would need to get back in time to prepare for that. Unless Captain Sebring can be asked to handle it."

Admiral Morris shook his head. "Sebring is tied up with the Gonzega case. Thanks anyway, Amy."

"You're welcome Sir; Admiral. And sorry I couldn't help out." She went back to typing her memo as they left her office.

Marine Judge Colonel Clifford Blakely was coming down the hall from courtroom number two, shaking his head. Though he was a promising lawyer, Major McBundy still had a lot to learn. _He's a lot like Commander Rabb, _Blakely said chuckling to himself.

As he made his way to his office, he saw his boss and Admiral Chegwidden coming out of Amy Helfman's room. Stiles Morris spotted him.

"Colonel Blakely, do you have a moment?"

Ever the Marine, he responded crisply. "Yes Sir, I was just heading back to my office."

Admiral Morris smiled good naturedly. "Good. This won't take but a moment. Let's go into your office where we can talk in private."

Blakely opened the door to his office and let the two officers in first. He came in behind them and shut the door. He was fairly sure it wasn't an infraction that was being pointed out because neither man looked upset.

The two Admirals glanced at one another for a moment and then Morris spoke. "Admiral Chegwidden needs a judge to go to Mirbullah and preside over a hearing for the Dodge case."

"You'd take a flight from Andrews to Baghdad, Colonel," added the Judge Advocate General, "And then a helo to Mirbullah."

Clifford Blakely figured he already knew the answer to this question, but he had to ask anyway. "Sir, may I ask why they can't use a judge from the legal offices in Baghdad?"

The SEAL turned Judge Advocate answered that one. "2nd MEB commander Brigadier General Cody Thornton is worried about due process concerns and improper command influence he feels could occur if it is handled by anyone in country. The General wants the hearing to be as unbiased as possible."

That was all the Marine Judge needed to hear. He was needed and one general and two admirals were making the request. There was no further room for discussion. If there was one thing Colonel Clifford Blakely knew how to do, it was follow orders.

"When do I leave, Sirs?"

"2000 Hours." replied the Judge Advocate General. "There's an Air Force transport headed to Baghdad. I'll have Petty Officer Tiner get your travel orders ready."

"I'll be on the flight Admiral."

**1452 Local _ 1152 Zulu  
><strong>**Aid Station Charlie**

**Harmon Rabb, Bud Roberts and Nick Hazon were sitting outside** an operating room. The Commander had finally gotten the Corpsman to sit down and take a break. Now Harm would find out if his theory about the man was correct.

"Okay Commander, Lieutenant, you've got me seated, now what is it you wanted to ask me?" demanded Hazon.

_A little too defensive,_ thought Harm. The naval Commander focused all of his attention on the man. "Corpsman Hazon, what can you tell me about Lieutenant Dodge's death?"

Hazon snorted. "Look Commander, I don't know what you've heard from the others, but like them, I thought Lukens and Buell were guilty-"

This is what he had been looking for. He glanced at Bud who was nodding his agreement. This was their missing witness.

Bud picked up the questioning. "You thought, Corpsman—as in past tense?"

"Yeah Lieutenant, I was going along with the crowd at first, and then I noticed

something-"

Dr. Soong came down the hallway. "Commander, its Colonel MacKenzie, for you."

Harm and Bud exchanged a look. If the Marine Lieutenant Colonel thought it was important enough to make a call about, then Harm better take the call.

Harm sighed and got up from the bench. "Stay with him Bud, I'll be right back."

He followed Dr. Soong down the hall to radio-telephone hanging on a post near the front of the hospital tent. An orderly handed the receiver to the Commander.

"Mac? How did you find out we were here?"

"Well Commander, it wasn't easy," Harm could see her smirking on the other end.

One part of him wanted to prolong this conversation but another part wanted to get back to questioning the Corpsman. "What's up Mac?"

Her voice was tinny. "How is it going with Corpsman Hazon?"

"I think we've found our missing battlefield witness…." He said looking down the hall at Bud and Nick talking.

"That's good, because we're going to need him, Harm. Briggs has gotten General Thornton to agree to convene a hearing the day after tomorrow."

Harm almost dropped the phone in shock. "Mac don't joke about something like this-"

"I'm dead serious, Harm. I was there when Thornton and Briggs discussed it with the Admiral. At least he was able to convince them that an outside judge was needed. But that was about all that they would agree to. The judge is being flown here tomorrow morning. So we'd better be ready, Commander."

He would swear, if he thought it would help, but he knew it wouldn't. "That's just

great-"

The sound of gunfire broke off their conversation. Mac gripped the phone. "Commander? Was that gunfire I heard? Commander? Harm? Harm?!"

The radio-telephone swung back and forth on its cord. The air in the aid station tent was filled with cordite smoke and the smell of gunpowder. All was quiet except for Mac's increasingly unnerved voice.

**-TBC...**


	18. Chapter 17

…**For Meritorious Service, Chapter XVII**

**0800 Local_1200 Zulu  
><strong>**JAG Headquarters  
><strong>**Falls Church, Virginia**

**Petty Officer Jennifer Coates walked into the bullpen **and headed for Tiner's office. Getting Jason to attend that morning class had depended upon her being there at 1300 every morning. Most of the time, she got there early. However, since she and Marla had just returned from Camp Lejune this morning, Jen barely had time to drop her off at the duty desk before she herself reported for work.

The Admiral had gone over to see Admiral Morris, so she was able to sit down at her desk, turn on her terminal and begin typing the correspondence she was working on yesterday before they left. Jen didn't notice him when he came back in.

As he headed for his office, he looked over at her desk and stopped when he spotted Jen.

"Coates, I see you made it back from Camp Lejune in one piece." The Admiral looked at her with his hard brown eyes.

"Yes Sir," she replied quickly getting out of her chair. "We drove back this morning."

"My office."

She quickly scooted in behind him as he walked into the office. AJ turned to shut the door and caught Harriet stealing a quick glance. A fierce scowl sent in her direction caused the Lieutenant to duck her head back behind her monitor. He surveyed the office and saw everyone was busy, no one had time to see what he and the Petty Officer were doing –- or so it seemed.

He pulled the door to and observed Jennifer Coates standing at attention. She sneaked a quick look at him and seeing the irritation cross his face, quickly went back to attention.

He walked over to where she was standing.

"Petty Officer, I usually am not in the habit of letting my non-commissioned officers stay overnight at a Marine Corps base at the government's expense."

"Yes Sir,"

"Care to tell me why you and Corporal Givers felt the need to stay overnight?"

"Well Sir, it was almost 1800 local when we finished our interviews at Camp Lejune."

That technically was not a lie. By the time they made it over to the visitor quarters, it was almost 1800.

"So this made it all right to stay overnight," He seemed to be agreeing with her.

Coates turned toward him smiling, "Yes Sir, I mean, the drive back in the dark is-"

"Petty Officer!" He barked.

Jen Coates immediately stopped babbling and went back to attention.

AJ Chegwidden walked up to her until he was standing right next to her face. The look of cold fury made her flinch as he spoke. "Petty Officer, it is in your best interest to inform *me* when you decide that you and Corporal Givers need to stay overnight. Then *I* will decide if this is okay, *not you.*"

"Yes Sir," she gulped. "Aye, aye Sir."

He walked over to his desk and started to sit down. "Now would you mind giving me the report you were *supposed* to give last night?" His voice was still laced with irritation.

"Uh, yes Sir. Corporal Givers and I interviewed several personnel from the Lieutenant Dodge's engineer unit."

He picked up his reading glasses and a piece of paper from his desk "Did you find anything unusual?"

Jen relaxed her stance. "As a matter of fact, we did-"

The glare he shot at her over his reading glasses caused Jen to quickly snap back to attention.

"Well?" The soft interrogative seemed more dangerous than it sounded. She stuttered.

"Wel – well Sir, we talked with h- his battalion commander, Colonel Shoup, and he informed us that Dodge had a wife…."

AJ put his paper down and stared at her. She wished she were anywhere but here.

"A wife…."

"Um, yes Sir, she's an Afghan refugee. Her name is Fazirah…Fazirah Dodge."

"Was she living in the married officer housing? Is that why you stayed overnight so you could talk with her?"

Jen wished she had thought to say they had checked there, but her automatic response tumbled out before she could put her brain into gear. "N-No Sir, when her husband shipped out to Iraq, she moved back to Virginia." AJ continued to stare at her. She felt a blast forming deep in his body. "Falls Church, Sir" she added hastily. "She has relatives here…in Virginia, that is, Sir."

"Well Petty Officer, he said softly, "Then you and Corporal Givers should go and talk to her this morning."

"Yes Sir," Came the automatic reply.

"Lieutenant Sims!" he bellowed. Jen instinctively flinched.

Harriet Sims came bustling through the door and brought herself to attention next to Jen.

AJ looked incredulously at Harriet. "Lieutenant, were you eavesdropping?"

"No Sir," the pregnant woman quickly responded. "I came by Petty Officer Coates' desk to drop off the briefings that just came in this morning by courier from the Pentagon."

AJ really wasn't in the mood to listen to the clever Lieutenant's explanation. "Get Corporal Givers in here ASAP!"

"Aye, Sir," Harriet shot a quick look of sympathy at the young Petty Officer as she pivoted on her heel and headed out of the office to look for the young Marine.

**xxxviixx**

**Mac's fingers tightened around the receiver**. "Harm?! What's going on?!"

Sturgis came over to the phone. He had not been there when the Colonel's phone connection with the Commander went silent. "Mac, what's-"

Mac pulled away from the former submariner as she concentrated on the sounds coming from the other end of the line. She listened intently to the babble of noises. There were voices speaking Korean, something about 'a saboteur' and 'several wounded' but no English voices. That worried her even more.

"Harm?!" Her voice grew more desperate. "Dammit Harm! Answer me!"

"Sorry Mac," She let her breath out as she heard the Commander's voice. She had not realized she had been holding it. "The MPs just secured an injured Fedayeen fighter." He explained it as if he was relaying a normal day at the office to her. "He somehow got a machine pistol and-"

"Commander!" _You scared the hell out of me!_ Was what Mac wanted to say, but she knew better.

"What's wrong, Mac?" He seemed to have no idea, though, what she was going through.

She couldn't believe she had to ask this. "Are you all right?"

Sturgis tried to grab the receiver from Mac. Instinctively, she jerked away from him, gripping the receiver tighter. "Colonel!" he snapped, "If you don't tell me what's going on-"

He stopped when she cupped her hand over the receiver and looked fiercely at him. "A wounded prisoner got loose in the aid station with a gun." She explained.

Sturgis Turner was clearly confused now. "How did a prisoner get a gun? Are Bud and Harm okay?"

At that moment Harm spoke up again. "Mac, is that Sturgis with you?"

"Yes Harm, she motioned to the navy man who joined her at the phone. "We're both here. Is Bud Okay? Tell me where you are now." Mac and Sturgis shared the phone listening to the aviator/lawyer.

"Bud's fine, he had gone outside before it happened. "Mac, you know where we are -you called me, remember?"

"Fine," said Colonel MacKenzie growing annoyed with her partner's obliviousness to her concerns. "Just tell me what part of Al Nasiriyah you are in."

"We're at the aid station/hospital tent, in the Al Nasiriyah central business district-" replied Harm, but they didn't bother to listen to the rest. They had the information they needed.

She exchanged a look with Sturgis. "I'll go get them," the preacher's son sprinted out the door. Mac looked torn between staying on the phone and going after the man.

"Mac?"

"Stay there Harm, Sturgis and I are coming to you." She dropped the receiver into its cradle, cutting off the connection as she sprinted after Sturgis.

"Mac, hold up, there's no need for you to come down here." His reassurance was met by the buzzing of a disconnected line. "Mac? Colonel, are you listening to me?"

Bud walked into the still smoky aid station receiving area. "What's going on Sir? Is that the Colonel?"

"It was," he said sarcastically as he dropped the receiver onto its cradle.

**1502 Local_ 1202 Zulu  
><strong>**North of Al-Nasiriyah**

"I still don't get it Mac," said Sturgis sitting in the passenger seat. He watched as they drove down the highway, swerving around seemingly normal highway traffic in this war/non-war situation.

"Get what Sturgis?" Mac said as she deftly avoided a lumbering fuel truck. Sturgis blanched as they barely missed sideswiping it.

"How a patient got in the hospital with a machine pistol."

"I don't know, but I don't like this. First, Harm finds our chief witness tending to a Korean soldier that has his truck blown apart by a remote controlled bomb, now this. Something is stirring Sturgis, I can feel it."

"Just keep your eyes on the road, Mac, I'd like to get there in one piece."

The pretty Marine attorney shot him an irritated look. "First Harm, now you; what is it with you guys, you don't like a woman driving?" As she said this she turned to face him. Mac was oblivious to the fact she had crossed the centerline and was on a collision course with a freight truck.

Sturgis fought the urge to yell 'keep your eyes on the road' he merely reached out and turned the wheel, so that the speeding HMMWV swerved back onto the right side of the road. The freight truck skidded by, its horn blaring wildly.

"Can we continue this conversation after we reach Al-Nasiriyah? It obviously distracts you from driving." His calm voice masked his wildly beating heart.

Mac shot the bubblehead a look of anger mixed with embarrassment as she continued toward their destination.

**0807 Local 1207 Zulu  
><strong>**ZNN New York Office  
><strong>**New York, NY**

"**Mr. DePalma, there's a call for you from Iraq."**

The Executive Producer of the ZNN News Division turned his overstuffed chair toward the door. "Who is it Phyllis? Stuart? Glen?"

The young woman dressed in black slacks and loose fitting man's pale blue dress shirt looked at him with a confused expression, No, a…Commander Rabb? Says he's with the Jagged Corps or something like that."

Phyllis was a good Administrative assistant, but knew little about Chuck DePalma's past military contacts. "Harmon Rabb?" She nodded. Chuck sat up straight in his chair, "Put him through Phyllis."

"Yes Sir," she went back to her desk.

The phone in his office began to ring; he swiftly picked it up. "Well, well, Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr., it's been a while…."

"It's good to hear your voice too, Chuck, returned the Commander. "I heard congratulations are in order, you made Producer."

Chuck smiled as picked up a cigar and rolled it back and forth between his thumb and forefinger. "That's Executive Producer, Commander."

"Well then that is a cause for celebration," continued Harm not at all thrown off by his correction. "You deserve it."

Chuck DePalma smiled again. He knew the man wanted something. He always did. "Cut the bull Commander, I've known you long enough; what do you want…?"

Harm, sitting in the hospital communications tent, grimaced. At heart Chuck was still a reporter. "Stuart Dunston is here."

Chuck almost laughed. "Of course he is Rabb," The Executive Producer put the cigar down and began fiddling with a paperweight on his desk. "He's our senior reporter in Iraq. What's it to you?"

Harm shook his head smiling wryly; it was just like old times. "Let's just say we have a mutual concern…."

Chuck stopped fiddling with the paperweight. "A 'mutual concern'? What are you trying to pull, Rabb?"

Harm's voice seemed to become stronger over the long distance line. "Some innocent men are being framed-"

"You're breaking my heart." Chuck DePalma was now all business, cutting off this mindless prattle so that they could get down to business. After all, he was an Executive Producer and time was, as they say in the business, money. Chuck began fiddling with his paperweight again as told Harm what he knew. "Commander this wouldn't have to do with the Dodge murder case, now would it?"

He struck a nerve. After a pause, the Commander's voice was more conciliatory. "They're not guilty Chuck; I need your help…."

Now it was Chuck's turn to be annoyed. "As I recall you confiscated Stuart's tape…."

Harmon Rabb Jr.'s response was almost automatic. "He was interfering with a rescue operation."

But Chuck was ready for that stonewalling. "That's not the way I heard it,

Commander-"

But Harm was not finished. "-and he could have compromised our murder investigation by revealing our being in the vicinity."

This got the ZNN Executive Producer's attention. "What's the matter Commander, is the military covering something up?"

Chuck could hear the irritation return to the Navy lawyer's voice. "No, Chuck you know I could never be involved with something like that."

Oh I don't know Commander, when you go over to the CIA and fly planes for them, sometimes their ways rub off on a person, and besides you're already halfway there- you're a lawyer after all…." He added the last comment as a gentle dig. The response was typical Rabb.

"Look Chuck, unless you can get Stuart to help, some innocent men are going to be sent to prison for a crime they didn't commit-"

"I'm touched, really." DePalma swung his chair so that he could look at the New York skyline. "Tell me Rabb what's in it for ZNN if we help you?"

Now they were getting down to a resolution to their mutual problem. Harm smiled smugly. "I can personally arrange a ride in an F-14-"

Chuck shook his head, gently chuckling. "Thanks, but no thanks Commander; I've been on one of your 'guest rides' before. I wouldn't wish that on Stuart – even if he deserved it."

Harm was now chuckling as well. "Come on, Chuck. We go way back; you know I wouldn't do that to you or Stuart…."

This was fun, but they had to wrap it up quick. There was a staff meeting in five minutes to outline the top stories for the next half hour update. "How about an exclusive on the capture of the real bad guys, providing there are any besides the ones already in jail?"

"When we find them, I give you my word you can have the first interview." Promised the Commander.

"Okay Rabb, while it may be out of your hands, I know you will make it worth our while. Now, what do you need from us?"

**xxxviixx**

**Stuart was recording the impressions of an Iraqi woman** about the US troops in her town. She appreciated their ability to bring stability to her town, but she worried about them fighting with the local followers of the extremist groups.

He was about to wrap it up when out of the corner of his eye he saw Harmon Rabb Jr. approaching.

"This interview doesn't have to be cleared by the military, Commander…."

Harm smiled sardonically "Mr. Dunston, I've come to make a deal with you; I've talked with your Executive Producer Chuck DePalma."

Stuart was singularly unimpressed. "What for, I thought you held all the cards…."

Harm looked down and shrugged. "Not all of them I'm afraid…."

The ZNN reporter did not mince words. "Now I'm really heartbroken to hear that; would you excuse me?"

The Navy Commander looked at the uncaring face, hoping he could trigger some feelings of guilt. "I could use your help…."

Stuart Dunston made it clear he wasn't affected. He started to brush the military lawyer off. "Look, I've got a story to file…." He started to walk away when the Commander's voice stopped him.

"You'll get an exclusive interview with the real murderers."

The ZNN Reporter stopped, fixing him with a guarded look. "How can you guarantee that?"

Harm was resolute. "Mac and I will find them, after that…."

Stuart could smell an exclusive, but he didn't want his over-enthusiasm to cause him to lose a potential exclusive. "Commander, you once helped uncover a spy at our network. Are you saying these murderers might be involved in something worse?"

"We won't know that until we get them, Mr. Dunston. When we do, you're welcome to be the first to talk to them." Deep down, Harmon Rabb felt sick about having to wheel and deal like this, but he told himself it was for a noble cause and with time running out, he really didn't have much choice. He just hoped they had what he was looking for.

**JAG Headquarters**

**Tiner had the box that the Admiral had requested**. Why he wanted a case file from a friendly fire incident in Afghanistan in 2001, he had no idea. The Petty Officer walked down the main aisle of the basement file room, headed toward the elevator. He was glad to be down here despite the dirt, dust, and bare light bulbs. Anything was better than facing the wrath of Lieutenant Sims.

She was probably still mad about that typo virus he had installed on her machine. He did it on a day when the Admiral was out of the office. It had been revenge for her putting hot sauce on his burger when he wasn't looking. It took her three memos to figure out something was wrong, because the program only changed a few words here and there.

Although she was a good report writer, she missed the words. It was only when he pointed out the mistakes on the third memo that she began to get suspicious; of course his smirk might have also given him away. It was just a little harmless fun that had started shortly after Bud had lost his leg. He couldn't stand seeing her sad and anxious, so the jokes began.

They lifted her spirit and he found that Lieutenant Sims had a wicked sense of humor – especially where practical jokes were concerned. She got into the spirit of it even more once Lieutenant Singer left the office. Singer. Boy, she had left a mark on this office. He was mulling over what might have happened between Lieutenants if Singer were still alive, when the chime sounded announcing the elevator had arrived.

He froze when he saw who was in the elevator. It was Singer reincarnated.

"Major Clemons!" He tried to come to attention as best he could while still holding the box, but decided it was too awkward and started to set the box down. Sensing that might be seen as disrespectful, he stopped in mid-motion and tried to go back to attention. The result was the Petty Officer looking like he was trying some new kind of dance.

Carly wanted to smile, but as a senior officer, she had to maintain her professionalism. "At ease Petty Officer." She replied in an even tone. "What are you doing down here?"

Jason Tiner relaxed a little, but he was still wary about this woman. "Retrieving a case file for the Admiral, Ma'am."

She nodded thoughtfully. "You were in the Admiral's office a few minutes ago doing something for Commander Mattoni and Lieutenant Commander Burford. What were you doing, Tiner?"

Jason answered automatically. "I'm afraid I can't tell you ma'am."

Carly Clemons fixed the Petty Officer First Class with a penetrating stare. "Why not Petty Officer?"

Jason Tiner really hated that she was putting him on the spot. "Major, if you really want to know what I was doing and why, you'll have to ask Commander Mattoni." He saw that she wasn't pleased with that answer. "I was following his orders, ma'am."

'_I was following orders.' What an idiot, _she thought harshly. "Petty Officer, I don't think the Admiral would appreciate you rummaging around in his office and Commander Mattoni could be in even worse trouble…now tell me, is what you were doing really worth not going to Naval Justice School because the Admiral gives you a negative recommendation_**?"**_

In years past, Jason would have fainted or swallowed nervously and then panicked. But working with Commander Rabb, Colonel MacKenzie and Lieutenant Roberts had prepared him for harsh cross-examination by a hostile attorney.

"Ma'am the Admiral gave his permission for me to look for the file in his office. He told me there was no reason I couldn't take the file if I found it, and copy it for archival purposes."

Carly weighed that statement. She watched the Petty Officer's face for tell-tale signs that he was not telling the truth. The man's eyes and facial expression did not change. No flicker of doubt, or nervous twitches.

"So what did Commander Mattoni have to do with this?" she probed.

Jason stood his ground. "Respectfully Ma'am, that's something you'll have to ask Commander Mattoni. With your permission, I need to get this case file upstairs to the Admiral's office before he gets back."

Jason started past her toward the elevator door. Carly walked into his path.

Before the Petty Officer could protest, Carly held up her hand to silence him. "Petty Officer, I admire your spunk." Jason thought he had been caught. He began thinking about ways to rebuff this challenge when her next sentence let him know he had won this round. "Most non-commissioned officers would have crumbled when I told them what I just told you. You're going to make a fine lawyer."

He could not tell if this was a candy coated bomb or a true compliment. Jason decided for the moment to accept it at face value. "Thank you Ma'am."

"And if Lieutenant Sims or anyone else asks what you were doing, you send them to me."

Now that really confused him. "Ma'am, why are you helping me?"

The Major smirked as if someone had told her a bad joke. "Let's just say I have a soft spot for strays."

That didn't make any sense to Jason, either. He really didn't need her help, and why was she being so friendly to him? For the moment, he decided to just accept his good fortune.

"Yes Ma'am."

Carly got back on the elevator ahead of him and punched the button. "Just do as I suggested, Petty Officer."

As Jason tried to get on board, the doors shut, leaving him standing in the basement with the Admiral's requested case file box.

**36****th**** MEU, BLT Headquarters**

**Captain Floyd Johnson was sitting at his desk** when the high-speed facsimile/printer came to life. Within moments, pages began spitting out of the machine, falling into the attached catch tray. He picked up the first page and scanned the cover memorandum. It was addressed to Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie, JAG Corps. He began gathering up the pages when the door to his office opened.

Corporal Richards eyed the papers that Captain Johnson was holding. "New fax arrive Sir?" he asked casually.

Richards was Darcy Livingston's flunky and not someone that Floyd cared too much for. His reason for being interested in the fax was transparently obvious.

"Yes it did Corporal," said the Captain blandly.

"Do you want me to take care of it, Sir?" The eagerness in his voice made Floyd ill.

"It's for Colonel MacKenzie, Richards. Her 'in box' is right here, I think I can handle it."

The tone of his voice told Richards to buzz off.

"Yes Sir." Richards watched as the Captain placed the report in her box and then sat back down at his desk and resumed typing on his laptop.

"Sir, I need to take this mail to Lieutenant Colonel Livingston, if you'll excuse me."

The Captain did not bother looking away from his report nor did he stop typing, "Fine Corporal, close the door on the way out."

The Corporal picked up a stack of mail and headed out of the room. "Aye, aye Sir."

He closed the door with a bang.

Floyd Johnson just looked up at the closed door and shook his head.

**xxxviixx**

**Lieutenant Commander John Burford sighed as he closed the case folder** and put it on the desk. He looked around the room. It was strange working in another person's office; it only served to remind him how temporary this TAD really was. After this, he would be returning to his backwater duty station. In reality that really didn't bother him_**.**_

What did though was how to talk to Carly. He wanted to avoid any more run-ins with the Admiral and the only way to do that was to reach an agreement of some sort with Major Clemons. They had been friends once (…_pretty good ones_,) he thought with a twinge of guilt. So many bridges had been burned. Was it possible for him to get through to her? He couldn't let their private war affect this office anymore than it already had.

"I gotta do something about this…." he said as he got up from his desk and made his way to the door. As he opened it, he found himself face to face with Major Carly Clemons.

"Commander," she said evenly as she put her hand down at her side. It was obvious she had been about to knock on his door.

"Major," he returned. "Would you like to come in?"

"Sure; I came by to feel you out on a deal regarding your client." The Marine Major walked into the office and seated herself in the chair in front of his desk.

He stood at the door for a moment, then walked over to his desk chair and sat down. "What are you offering?"

"Captain Peters had an outstanding record of service until this incident. Taking that into account, I'm willing to offer a punitive letter of reprimand and reduction of pay for three months." Carly looked down at her notes and then back at him; as she did she brushed a strand of errant hair behind her right ear.

"I think we can accept those terms," said John he reached across his desk "You've got a deal."

Carly stared at his outstretched hand for a moment before she reached out and shook his hand firmly.

Both felt their skin tingle as they held hands. Carly pulled hers away first. As she started to get up, she seemed to look…demurely at him?

_I must be imagining this,_ thought John as he stared back at her.

Carly knew that look. She had seen it before, a long time ago when they were closer. The Major decided to play it for what it was worth. _I'll get a little mileage out of this. _"Uh, Commander…John…thanks for agreeing to this." She said quietly. "Um, I'd better get back to my office."

He had to do this before she slipped out. "Major…Carly…I have something to ask you."

At his use of her first name, the Marine Major stopped and looked at him.

_Now or never Burford,_ "Carly, we need to talk."

_Great, _she thought, stifling the urge to roll her eyes._ What does he want now?_

"What do you want to talk about?" Normally that phase coming from her sounded accusatory, but not this time. She acted as if she genuinely wanted to know.

"Carly, do you think…we could…call a truce?"

"A truce…." She repeated staring at him. _Yeah, when hell freezes over…._

"Yeah." Despite his own trepidations, John wanted to continue. "Look; I know what he meant to you…."

Her eyes flashed. "He has a name – you make Ross sound like he's dead."

"He's going to be in there for a while-" Began John clinically.

"Thanks to you. Look, is this leading somewhere? I've got a lot of paperwork to do this afternoon…." Carly had had enough of this charade.

**-TBC…**


	19. Chapter 18

…**For Meritorious Service, Chapter XVIII**

"**Carly, I'm…I'm sorry I had to convict him…."** John Burford was being honest; Carly on the other hand, could've cared less.

"What John?" she shot back snottily, "Guilt after all this time?"

"No Carly, I did what I had to do." The Lieutenant Commander said honestly. "I'm just sorry it ruined our friendship."

"Commander, we had a working relationship – nothing more." She returned icily, "Now, if you're done, please excuse me…."

"Carly, please…this has gone on long enough." John Burford walked out on a limb and hoped she wouldn't saw it off. "We've both been given another chance to improve upon our careers. Let's not-"

"Let's not what, John?" She cut in savagely. "Screw it up by fighting, turning this office into a battleground?" She wanted him to bleed and if this was the way to do it, so be it.

"These are good people Carly, if we can't bury the hatchet, can we at least call a stop this bickering temporarily?"

"Temporarily?" _Good people?! Who cares about them?_

"I know we can't go back to the way we were, but just for the little while that we're here, can't we stop the war?" He hoped he was getting through to her. John wanted her to be receptive to this idea. Carly however, could not get past the fact that the Lieutenant Commander had sent her boyfriend, the only good thing that had happened in her life, to jail. Did he do the things they accused him of? She didn't think so, and had defended Captain Ross Seibert zealously; using all of the skills she had mastered to keep him out of Leavenworth. But it was to no avail; the Lieutenant Commander had shattered her defense strategy and managed to paint a picture that would have convinced, even the most bias juries, of his guilt.

Carly huffed and walked over to the filing cabinet. She toyed with one of the labels on cabinet. That was one thing about him; his sad puppy dog looks always tugged at her heartstrings. As much as she wanted to hurt him, she realized he had a point. This move, temporary or not, had been a boost to their careers. They really could not afford to screw this up. "Okay John. For their sake, not ours."

John smiled and got up from his chair. "Thanks Carly," He held out his hand again. Her cold look stopped him.

This time Carly just looked at his hand like it the most disgusting thing she had ever seen. "That's Major Clemons to you. Remember Commander, there may be truce right now, but I promise you, this war will resume. And when it does, I will win." She opened the door and was through it before he could say anything else.

The Lieutenant Commander, disappointed by her last comment, sat back down heavily in his chair and picked up the file that had been sitting to the side of his other work. He had wanted to tell her, but she hadn't given him the opportunity. He opened the file that said CAPTAIN ROSS SEIBERT on it in bold type. John opened the folder and began reviewing the case notes again.

**xxxviiixx**

"**Where are those JAG Corps officers?!"** barked Briggs as he stormed into the office.

Briggs' aide de camp looked up from his work with something akin to shock on his face.

"I'll go get them Sir," The Sergeant started to get up from his desk. He wondered what they had done now.

"Not those idiots!" he growled, Briggs looked as if he was going to explode. "The ones that Chegwidden promised us!"

The Sergeant stared at him, trying to understand what his commanding officer had just asked. "Uh, Sir, the Admiral sent them here a few days ago. They should be out conducting interviews – should I go get them?"

The man watched as confusion clouded his commanding officer's face. "What day is this?"

"Sir?"

"You heard me Sergeant. What day is this?"

"It's Friday sir," he didn't have the heart to tell Briggs that he had asked the same question this morning.

He nodded as if he didn't fully believe the man. "Friday, right. I'm going into my office."

The Sergeant watched as the Colonel, clearly unnerved by what had just taken place, strode into his office. He too, was feeling a little shaken. This was the second time in less than 12 hours this scene had been played out. He had gotten used to his Commander's absent-mindedness as of late. Briggs had jokingly dismissed it as one of the hazards of old age, but the repeated questions and his increasingly constant agitation was beginning to bother the Sergeant. Sure, Colonel Ashton Briggs was 55 years old, but was he really old enough to be acting like the Sergeant's great grandmother? The more he thought about it, the more worried he became. Something was definitely wrong_**.**_

He was about to sit down again when Lieutenant Colonel Darcy Livingston stuck her head in the door. "Jenkins? Is Briggs in?"

"Colonel! Am I glad you're here!" he said relieved. She would help him.

"What's the matter?" She stepped further into the room, concern etched on her face.

"It's the Colonel, Ma'am, he's zoning out again," admitted the Sergeant. "I'm really beginning to get worried about him."

Darcy understood the man's concern. "Don't worry Cher," she said soothingly, "I'll have a talk with him."

"Thank you Ma'am." said the Sergeant, obviously relieved.

Darcy walked over to his closed door and knocked.

"Who is it?" She was not ready for Briggs' sharp interrogative.

"It's me, Ash, can I come in?"

There was a moment's hesitation before he answered. "Darcy…sure, come on in."

She winked at the Sergeant. "See hon, he recognized me. Don't worry Sergeant, I'll find out what's bugging him."

"Thank you Ma'am." The aide de camp smiled at the acting Force Recon commander and she returned his smile. Then she opened the door and walked into Briggs' office.

"Ash Cher, you're scaring Jenkins again." She said plainly as she stopped in front of his desk.

"What are you talking about Darcy?" Briggs was busy shuffling papers. He did not look up at her.

"Your little outburst just now in the outer office?" she prompted him. "What was that all about?"

"I'm not sure, Darcy." He said clearly sounding unnerved. "Did you know today is Friday? I could have sworn it was Sunday."

The shock in her eyes quickly faded as she reached in her pocket and pulled out her plastic pill container of gingko. "Ash, you didn't take your medicine this morning, now did you?"

He screwed up his face in disgust. "Darcy, those pills don't seem to be helping. This short term memory thing is getting worse; you promised me these pills would help."

"You have to take them daily," she reminded him, "Or they do no good."

"Just give me the damn pills," he grumbled. She opened the container and gave him two. He popped them into his mouth, chasing them down with a swallow from his coffee mug.

He looked up at her with concern. "Darcy, I have to keep it together long enough to get my unit out of this hellhole. You promised me you would help."

She looked at him with pity. "And I am helping, Ash." Then she added more somberly. "Just be patient and get those attorneys to agree to prosecute Lukens and Buell."

He gave her a quick nod of acknowledgment but then began shaking his head. "I can't believe those idiots killed Dodge." He looked up at her again. "We don't need NCIS back here again…."

"They won't come back, Cher. I promised you I would take care of that," she said reassuring the MEU commanding officer. "You just concentrate on getting the hearing going and I'll take care of NCIS."

She smiled down at him. "I'll be by later to give you another dose. Okay? If you keep taking these at regular intervals, you'll keep a clearer head." She gently admonished.

He got up from his desk and stood facing her. "I'm counting on you Darcy. Sometimes it seems like you're the only one in this unit I can depend on."

She smiled seductively. "That's kind of you Ash; I'll be back later, all right?"

He sat down again, seeming to ignore her. "Sure; I've got to get this report done. Close the door when you leave."

Darcy watched him for a few more moments as he became absorbed in his paperwork again. She quietly stepped back into the outer office and pulled the door to. Composing herself, she looked over Jenkins and winked at him again. "All taken care of Sergeant."

"Thanks again Ma'am." replied the grateful aide de camp. "I don't know what he would do without you." Darcy would have winced at this compliment, if she had felt anything. She let what she thought was a brief flash of regret cross her face, then she 'composed' herself for his benefit.

She smiled brightly at the Sergeant. "I'll be back later this evening, Jenkins. Everything will be fine."

When she got outside Captain Jac Lewis was sitting on a bench waiting for her. She sat down next to him, her face becoming a mask.

"Captain," she said coolly.

"Colonel," he returned, not looking at her. "He's getting worse isn't he?"

"Nothing I can't handle…." she replied firmly.

"He's becoming a liability." He stated bluntly.

"Well don't go nutzoid on me Jac. Let's just watch him for now. It could just be fatigue." She lied. Truth was she needed Briggs for just a little longer and then she would discard him.

He snorted. Having worked with Darcy Livingston for five years had taught him that she was not as compassionate as she seemed. It was all an act. One that he saw right through. "Yeah right; just do me a favor – figure out a way for the Doc to look him over. I'm not being hung out to dry just because hard charging Briggs is losing his grip on reality."

"You let me worry about his grip." She returned coldly. "You worry about taking care of those problems we've talked about-"

He looked over at a passing HMMWV, not daring to look at her cold dead eyes. "Got a plan in motion now…."

"For your sake, you better hope it works."

**xxxviiixx**

"**Harm!" The Commander turned to see Sarah MacKenzie and Sturgis Turner** making their way in the doorway of the crowded aid station. Bud smiled at the sight of the two JAG Corps senior lawyers.

"Commander! Ma'am! It's good to see you!" he said brightly.

"Likewise Bud," said Mac smiling. She looked over at Harm. "We were worried about you."

Harm himself had just returned from talking to Stuart Dunston. He hated making deals, but at least with this ZNN reporter he could count on him keeping up his end of the bargain. His features flooded with embarrassment at her statement.

"Mac, you didn't have to drive down here," he said defensively, crossing his arms across his chest. "We have the situation under control."

Sturgis Turner almost snorted. "Yeah it sure sounded like you did, Buddy, with all that gunfire and people yelling in the background."

Harm rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Sturg, you and Mac should be back in Mirbullah finishing up the witness interviews."

Mac regarded him with a sarcastic smile. "We figured you could use the help down here, Commander. Now where is this star witness you were so eager to find?"

As if on cue, Nick Hazon came walking down the hall with Dr. Soong "I'm your star witness Commander?"

Harm and the other three attorneys turned around toward the combat medic. "You're one of the few people we have right now, Corpsman, that can prove that Lukens and Buell did not kill Lieutenant Dodge." Harm replied.

Nick looked at the four grimly. "Then I need to introduce you to another man who can point out someone who had more to gain by Dodge's death."

**1515 Local _ 1215 Zulu  
><strong>**Aid Station Charlie  
><strong>**Al-Nasiriyah, Iraq**

**As the four lawyers started to walk outside with Corpsman Hazon**, the rumble of heavy equipment signaled the arrival of the 36th MEU's supply convoy. At the head of this mixed convoy of HMMWVs, M-923 6x6 five-ton trucks, and MK48 OSHKOSH 10x10 tractors. At the head of this convoy was MK48 configured as a fuel tanker, towing a 4x4 tanker trailer. They rolled to a stop inside the aid station compound. As several of the vehicles' air brakes whistled, the passenger of the lead truck hopped out of the cab and began inspecting the tires.

"That's him." Said Nick Hazon pointing to the man. Harm looked at Bud. "Take the Corpsman back inside Bud; we need to talk to Captain Butler for a moment."

"Yes Sir," replied Bud. He steered Nick Hazon back toward the tent entrance. "Corpsman, let's go back inside…."

Harm walked over, followed by Mac and Sturgis.

"Captain George Butler?" Harm stood behind the man.

"Who wants to-" Butler's snarl died as he whirled around and saw the naval Commanders and a Marine Lieutenant Colonel standing there. He quickly snapped a smart salute.

"Sorry Commanders, Colonel. It's been a long day."

The JAG attorneys returned the salute.

"Commander Rabb, JAG Corps," he nodded to his two associates, "This is Commander Turner and Colonel MacKenzie. We're investigating the death of Lieutenant Dodge. Corpsman Hazon says you have some information that you might want to share with us."

Butler shot a quick look of surprise at the Marine medic who was headed into the aid station, and then the Captain looked back at the JAG Corps Officers. "Yes Sir," he looked up at the cab of the truck. "Excuse me for a moment, Sir. WILKINS! GET YOUR BUTT DOWN HERE PRONTO!

The Corporal opened the driver's side door and ran around the front side of the truck to Butler and the others. "Aye Sir!"

"Check this tire while I speak to the Commander." He tossed the man a tire gauge before turning back to Harm.

"Sorry Sir, our right tire has been running a little low and we haven't had time to get it replaced."

Harm smiled good-naturedly. "I understand Captain, is this your usual duty? Being a convoy leader?"

Butler returned his smile, slowly shaking his head. "No Sir, each of the officers in the unit take turns doing this; it just happens to be my day."

Mac smiled at the man as well. "What is your usual job Captain?"

"POL - Petroleum, Oil and Lubricants; Fuel dispersal."

"Fuel dispersal?" echoed Sturgis looking at the trucks. "It takes this many?"

"Aye Sir. Fuel and supplies for the MEU. We truck it from here at Al Nasiriyah where we pick it up, and take it to Mirbullah where we disperse it to the various MEU assets. Sometimes we fly it in using helicopters if we need it in a hurry, but most of the time we just truck it in."

"Captain, what can you tell us about Lieutenant Dodge and the circumstances surrounding his death?" Mac's smile had faded. She wanted to know what he kind of information he had that Hazon thought might be so important to them.

"Being in POL dispersal, you get to see a lot of things, ma'am…."

"What kind of things, Captain?" Mac's beautiful brown eyes bored into him.

Pretty or not, she was still a Lieutenant Colonel who wanted a question answered; he couldn't just sidestep the question with humorous comment that would have made her laugh. _Would be nice to hear what kind of laugh she has, though._ "We were ordered to top off all units involved in the cordon and search sweep of Mirbullah that day."

_Hey Lieutenant…._

_Captain. So, are you gonna check under the hood too?_

_That's Cruze's job, Phil. Are you good to go?_

_As I'll ever be…say, how well do you know Sergeant Colwell?_

_Paul Colwell? Well enough for anybody who transferred in seven weeks ago. Why do you ask? Trouble?_

_Not sure…maybe…maybe its just nerves on my part._

_Phil, Lieutenant – if you got questions about Colwell—_

_And draw more attention to myself, George? No. Besides, it's just a feeling, nothing solid…._

"What kind of concerns did he have, Captain?" Mac probed.

"He never elaborated, Ma'am," replied Butler.

Sturgis wanted to know more. "Captain, did he ever-?"

"Sorry to interrupt Sir," replied a soldier breaking in on the conversation. He handed the Captain his handheld radio. "It's Major Denton."

Butler nodded his understanding. He looked apologetically at the JAG Corps attorneys. "Sorry Sirs, Ma'am, but I have to take this."

The legal officers nodded their understanding.

"Butler here, Major." The voice on the other end seemed fairly animated. Harm could make out one or two words being said, but the majority of the conversation was lost to the background noise of the aid station. "Aye Sir. We're moving out right now!" The POL officer scowled at the other members of convoy who were standing around talking or smoking.

OKAY PEOPLE! STOW THOSE BUTTS AND GET ABOARD! THE MAJOR WANTS US IN MIRBULLAH IN LESS THAN THIRTY! LET'S MOVE OUT! NOW! MOVE IT!

The men began scrambling, climbing aboard their trucks and starting up their engines.

He turned to the JAG Corps officers. "Sorry, orders from the top; Major Denton is supporting a sweep operation north of Mirbullah being done by Recon. We have to leave now."

Harm nodded his understanding. "We understand Captain, but we'd like to finish this conversation after your run."

"Sure thing Commander," said Butler as he climbed aboard the revving tanker truck. "Anything I can do to help." He looked over at his driver as he shut his door, "Let's go Corporal! Move out!"

The MEU convoy pulled out of the compound and past the Italian infantry guard post.

"Harm, I take back what I said last night," said Mac as she stood in the smoky dust swirling around them.

Harm was still looking at the convoy heading off into the distance. "You mean about everybody being suspect?"

"I mean about being paranoid Sailor," she nudged him good-naturedly while smiling wryly at him. "This unit is starting to resemble something out of a grade B detective movie."

He quirked an eyebrow at her, "What do you mean, Jarhead?"

"Colwell was one of the men who claimed Lukens and Buell were guilty. In a weird way, this case is starting to make sense-"

Nick Hazon came running out of the hospital tent followed by Lieutenant Roberts.

"Where's the convoy?" Bud asked breathlessly.

The three lawyers fixed the obviously upset combat medic and the Lieutenant with perplexed looks.

"They just left to link up with Major Denton's unit, Corpsman." replied Sturgis, not sure he was going to like the reason Hazon wanted to know. "Why?"

The aggravation showing in Nick's face increased. "I just got off the horn with Denton's Exec, Major Denton's not even with his unit!"

"What?!" snapped Harm uncharacteristically. Mac was speechless. She turned back to look at the trucks heading down the street and then back at him.

"Denton's in Mirbullah," explained Hazon testily, "A toothache, he reported in on sick call this morning!"

The preacher's son was still trying to make sense of all this. "What about the sweep?"

Hazon whirled on the bubblehead. "Didn't you hear me?! Briggs didn't order any sweeps today!" Nick then realized seeing Bud's shocked look that he had just yelled at a senior officer. "Sir," He added as an afterthought.

Mac and Harm looked at each other for a brief moment and then took off at a dead run toward her parked HMMWV.

Events were happening too quickly. Then it hit Sturgis why they were running "Mac?! Harm!"

The aviator/lawyer looked back at his academy buddy. "You and Bud follow us, Sturgis! We gotta stop that convoy before they roll into Mirbullah!" Harm started to get in the driver's seat.

"I'm driving!" barked Mac as she jumped into the driver's seat ahead of him.

Harm, momentarily stunned, ran around to the passenger's side and started to climb in.

"Fine! Just don't drive into any minefields!"

Mac shot him a quick dirty look, hit the starter and stomped on the gas pedal. Harm almost lost his balance as he was taking his seat. The Humvee's tires spun on the dirt and gravel in the compound.

Harm grabbed onto the doorframe to regain his balance. "Hey take it easy Marine! You want the guards shooting at us?!"

"Get belted Flyboy!" said Mac through gritted teeth, "Or I'll leave you where you fly out!"

As if hearing Harm, one of the Italian Caporals at the compound entrance began yelling in Arabic and pointing his rifle at the crowd gathered outside the gate. Mac slammed on the brakes, stopping abruptly, throwing Harm toward the windshield. He used his hands as a brace to keep himself from catapulting out of the truck. He started to say something to Mac, but stopped when he saw her expression.

Mac strained to hear what he was saying to the crowd. Her eyes flew open wide as she recognized the phrase. "Harm! He's saying-!"

A muffled explosion tore through the crowd. People began screaming, crying and shouting. The Caporal was wounded, but he managed to fire a quick burst, spraying a young cloaked woman wearing a hajib and holding a fragmentation grenade. She spit out an angry epithet at the soldier as she fell on her live grenade. The second explosion was more muffled then the first.

Harm looked at the other Italian guard who frantically waved them through as pandemonium broke out in the compound. The navy commander released the safety on his pistol as they passed the crowd and roared into the street.

The crowd, at least those who were not wounded or dying, leapt out of the way.

Harm looked back and saw Bud, Nick and Sturgis in the second HMMWV, tires squealing in protest as it flew through the compound entrance and out onto the wide boulevard.

Both Humvees sped northwest at top speed, trying desperately to catch the convoy before it was too late.

**xxxviiixx**

**Firebase Coventry**

**Leftenant Prine was sitting in his Alvis ****artillery-spotting**** vehicle, going over his notes**. Since the war ended, his unit's duties had shifted to peacekeeping, not the normal duties of an artillery unit of his Majesty's army.

Still, it was what was required, and their little corner of Iraq needed policing just as bad as any other. Prine's job was to organize the patrols of the village they were in. As he reached for his pen, he heard a commotion outside.

"You there! Halt! Halt! Halt or I'll open fire!"

Prine stuck his head out of the hatch in time to see a young Arab fling a lit Molotov cocktail at his vehicle. Slamming the hatch shut, he heard the bottle break against the armored exterior and whumpf of the gasoline as it splashed on the top.

"Jimmy! Hand me that fire extinguisher!" The driver tossed the canister to him. Andrew Prine flipped open the hatch and began hosing down the flaming liquid.

"Death to the enslavers!" Yelled the young Arab. Two more British soldiers, noticing what was going on, ran and joined the first two, grabbing the man and pinning his arms behind his back. They quickly subdued him.

**xxxviiixx**

**Harm scanned the horizon as Mac kept** the accelerator to the floor.

"How could they have disappeared so fast?!" He shouted over the roar of the engine and howling of the speed induced wind.

"Beats me, they must have rockets on those trucks!" his partner fired back.

"They can't be that far ahead!"

Harm looked to his right and saw a dust cloud disappearing in the distance.

"Mac!"

"What?!" startled, she shot a quick look of alarm at him.

"They turned off!" Harm said gesturing with his hand.

"Where?!" Mac quickly scanned the road from left to right – no sign of the convoy could be seen.

"That turnoff back there to the right!"

"Hang on Sailor!" Mac wrenched the wheel of the truck hard right, putting the Humvee in a sliding skid as it fishtailed around.

In the second HMMWV, the preacher's son couldn't believe his eyes. "What's Mac doing?!"

Bud quickly saw what the aviator/lawyer had seen. "There Sir! The Convoy must've taken that road!"

"Hang on!" The former submarine officer yanked his wheel hard to the right.

Sturgis put his vehicle into the same skid, fishtailing as he fought to get the truck back under his control. Mac was already five car lengths ahead.

Harm could see the faint outline of the rearguard truck of the convoy.

"Faster Mac!" he urged.

"I've got it to the floor now!"

As Butler's convoy approached the checkpoint, Lance Corporal Seth Grearson frantically motioned the fast moving trucks to the right fork in the road. Like a runaway freight train, the convoy rushed past Grearson and his Humvee and soon was out of sight.

"He's waiting for you!" Shouted the Lance Corporal. Chuckling softly to himself, he was about to get back in his truck when he saw the speeding Humvee carrying that troublesome Navy lawyer and driven by that pretty Marine Lieutenant Colonel attorney.

Quickly recognizing the trouble they could cause, Grearson got back out and motioned for them to take the left fork.

Harm looked at the Lance Corporal who saluted them as they roared past. . Sturgis' Humvee immediately followed them.

Grearson stood for moment, making sure they didn't suddenly stop. When he had made sure they were gone from sight, he began grinning to himself.

He walked back to his truck, climbed in, gunned the engine and pulled out, heading up the right fork.

**xxxviiixx**

**As they got closer to the outskirts of Mirbullah, they noticed several Humvees** blocking the roads leading into town. Marines, Iraqi policemen, Iraqi Civil Defense Corps [ICDC] and Iraqi Self Defense Army soldiers were hunkered down behind the vehicles looking toward the inner city.

"What's going on?" Mac asked a tall, skinny Sergeant, as she craned her head trying to see down the road past the barriers.

The man in charge of the roadblock turned from the developing battle to address her. "Fedayeen and Al-Qaeda sympathizers ambushed one of our regular supply convoys as it headed through town. The quick reaction force is trying to break through now."

"Regular supply convoys?!" Mac blanched. "Captain Butler!…"

The Sergeant, noticing her expression became concerned. "Ma'am?"

Harm knew what she meant. "Sergeant! Was Captain Butler leading this convoy?!"

"Uh, Yes Sir, it was his rotation I saw him-" before the man could finish, Mac stomped hard on the accelerator, sending the vehicle careening past the makeshift roadblock.

"Hey, you can't go in there! Hey!" The Sergeant could only wave his arms futilely at the speeding truck. The other soldiers and policemen standing at the roadblock looked unsure as to what they should do now.

As the Humvee sped through the nearly deserted streets, the sound of a pitched battle grew louder. A Cobra gunship briefly flashed overhead as it headed toward several palls of black smoke rolling into the sky. Harm noticed there were scattered groups of men and women here and there staring at them, as they roared past. Some were holding RPGs and rifles. Others flashed them peace symbols.

"Mac," Harm said cautiously as he looked around, "I don't want to alarm you, but I think we've crossed into enemy territory…"

"Where?" She shot back, yanking the steering wheel hard to the right, sending the HMMWV squad carrier into a squealing right turn as she headed towards the sounds of the battle.

Harm looked over at her with an alarmed expression. "I'm not sure…."

She looked at him momentarily, "What do you mean you're not sure?!"

The former Navy aviator was almost matter of fact about the whole situation. "There are groups of people all around us Mac, with RPGs and rifles, and judging from the way they are looking at us, I'd say we're not in friendly territory anymore."

As if to confirm that assessment, a Marine Amphibious troop carrier came lumbering out of a side street, sending the knots of guerilla fighters scattering. Mac slammed on the brakes and skidded to a halt in front of the mammoth carrier. It shuddered to halt and a squad of Marines ran out of the alley and began chasing the scattering civilians.

The hatch on the AAV opened up and its commander, a Lance Corporal, looked incredulously at the two JAG Corps lawyers staring up at him.

"How the hell did you two get here?"

The two lawyers exchanged sheepish looks and then Harm started to explain.

The soldier, obviously annoyed by this new development, motioned hurriedly for them to climb aboard. "Never mind, just get your butts up here on the double, you're lucky those guerilla fighters didn't torch you-"

"Lance Corporal!" Mac interrupted in her best Marine voice as she and the Commander climbed on board, "We've got to find Captain Butler's convoy! Now!"

The AMTRAC commander looked perplexed. "Butler's convoy? Well if they're in this Ma'am," he said referring to the developing melee, "They're probably trying to find cover like we should be doing." He switched the channel on his CVC helmet radio as he looked down into the hatch of his carrier. "Move'er out Frank, before we become too tempting a target!"

**-TBC…**


	20. Chapter 19

…**For Meritorious Service, Chapter XIX**

**In the twisting, turning streets of Mirbullah**, George Butler consulted his GPS receiver as they made yet another turn. But instead of heading around the village or to the main highway, there seemed to be no end to this narrow side road, second floor balconies seemed to lean out toward the middle.

Butler looked over at the driver. "Corporal! We're headed the wrong direct-"

"Sir!" Corporal Wilkins pointed to the Marine frantically waving at them. "It's Sergeant Colwell! He's motioning to us!" The relief was evident in the boy's face. George Butler was relieved as well _Finally, a friendly face…._

Both watched Sergeant Paul Colwell as he frantically motioned to the lost convoy to head down the side street to his right.

"Head the direction he's indicating!" ordered Butler, "I'll thank him as we go by!"

"Aye Sir!" returned Corporal Wilkins.

As Butler's truck approached the waving Sergeant, he noticed the odd look on Paul Colwell's face. George Butler hoped he was wrong about the man and his intentions.

**xxxixxx**

**As Harm and Mac clambered down into the cavernous troop compartment**, they noticed that they were the only ones on board, besides the driver and the commander of the AMTRAC.

Two Iraqi Fedayeen soldiers snapped off shots at the AMTRAC as it rolled toward them. The vehicle's fifty caliber opened up, sending the men diving for cover behind a burning Volvo station wagon. Harm heard the bullets bouncing off the thick hide of the carrier.

Mac looked up the Lance Corporal, "Where is the rest of the crew?"

The Lance Corporal kept his eyes on the situation outside the carrier while talking with the JAG attorneys. "The latrine and other places, Ma'am; you're my troops now – there's extra rifles stored down there that you can use in case you need them."

Harm and Mac exchanged wry looks at that sarcastic comment and the soldier's suggestion.

"Do you see the Captain?" Harm asked from within the lumbering armored box.

"No Sir," returned the Corporal grimly, firing off a short burst from his machine gun to scatter another group of rioters. "All I see are Saddam lovers, Commander."

**xxxixxx**

**The alley seemed to be closing in on either side**. Butler suddenly noticed the decrease in gunfire as they headed toward a wide boulevard on that lead to the main highway on the other side of the village. Butler knew what was about to happen….

"Get back to Sergeant Dennison's truck!" Butler said urgently to his driver.

"Sir?!" replied the confused man, trying not to take his eyes off the road.

Butler wanted the kid out of harm's way—something bad was about to happen. "You heard me Marine! Get out!" Barked Butler, "I'll take over for you! Get Dennison to turn this group around and headed out of here! Now!"

Butler slowed the massive tanker truck long enough that Corporal Wilkins was able to jump out and run back toward the other approaching trucks.

The Captain looked up to see a Fedayeen gunner aiming an RPG at him. He looked over to the left of the gunner and saw something he couldn't believe. Seth Grearson and Paul Colwell were watching, not doing anything to stop the man.

Butler stomped on the accelerator, urging the fuel laden vehicle forward, but he knew he couldn't outrun the grenade's rocket motor. In his rearview mirror the Captain saw the flash of light followed by searing pain and then nothing.

What Captain George Butler could not see, mercifully, was the conflagration rapidly engulfing his tanker truck and the attached trailer.

**xxxixxx**

**Two dust covered Russian built Bronovannaya Razvedivatelnaya Dozornaya Mashina (BRDM)** **Model 96 armored scout cars** were headed south from Al-Nasiriyah. The recon vehicles were part of the Multinational Division – Central. It's task; to keep the peace in central Iraq.

As the lead vehicle rolled down the dirt road, it's commander stood in the right hand circular hatch forward of the car's conical turret. Pulkownik (Colonel) Luisa Baranova surveyed the rice paddies and date palms interspersed with desert scrub plants and sand dunes. This land was very different from the rolling grassy plains of her native Poland. Her unit, the 'Szczecin' 12th Mechanized Division, which had been in country for less than a month, already it had its hands full helping its fellow multinational forces implement this shaky peace.

The commander of the 45th Reconnaissance Battalion remembered the words of the previous commander as he had handed over command to her. _"This relative quiet in our little corner of this volatile country belies the true nature of this region. Remember this Baranova…knowing this may help you one day save yourself and your unit."_

She remembered and tried to let local leaders run things as much as her political advisors would let her. Her unit provided a strong visible presence to deter some of the more fanatical, but she tried not to be too heavy handed. It was a difficult role for soldier trained to fight and kill the enemy. However, this was the seamy underside to that brave new world she had dreamed about when Poland was still communist. Now she was a soldier of this new generation and her actions would determine Poland's role in future humanitarian and peacekeeping operations.

They were headed south to link up with the main British unit stationed in this area. The 5th Regiment Royal Horse Artillery (5 RHA) had been involved in the opening actions of Operation Iraqi Freedom. Now they, like all other soldiers that had been involved from the beginning, were all trying to help rebuild the country. It was Colonel Baranova's intention to link up with the British and lay out patrol routes for the two countries' forces. The Italians were to take care of Al Nasiriyah and its surrounding suburbs. They would take care of the countryside.

Andrew Prine's Alvis forward observer carrier moved down the road toward his unit's most northern positions. Prine was concerned about the morale of his forward units. It had been weeks since any of them had leave. With the recent spate of unrest topped off by the fanatic's gasoline bomb a little while ago only served to heighten his concern for his troop's morale. It was vital that his troops be alert and ready to respond. Off to the right was a Dutch Hydrema 910 mine clearing vehicle moving slowly and methodically through a field, beating the ground with its chains to set off any mines other mine clearing teams had not found. Momentarily fascinated by the action of the unusual vehicle, Prine let his attention wander.

Baranova's two-vehicle convoy approached the Hydrema and saw Prine's carrier moving north toward the MCV. What Prine didn't see was a Zil-151 4x2 flatbed truck which had gunned its engine and was heading straight toward his carrier. Prine was still watching the Dutch vehicle.

It was Baranova who spotted the danger first.

"Look out!" She barked in cultured English at Prine. He did a double take and then turned to see the truck bearing down on his carrier. There was little that he had in the way of armament, except for a light machinegun.

She dispensed with warning shots; this vehicle was barreling toward the British personnel carrier for a reason, and it was not to greet it and its passengers to the area.

"Gunner!" she snapped in her native Polish, "Open fire on that truck!" As her gunner complied and the 14.5 mm machinegun began chopping up the front of the speeding truck, she flipped a switch on her radio. "Corporal!" she yelled as she eyed the MCV, "Turn your vehicle to the left! Now!"

Seeing the rapidly approaching danger, the Corporal and his partner nodded in agreement and gunned their engine. The big 4x4 armored truck rumbled in front of the speeding truck, its blast shield lowering.

The next few moments blurred together as the Soviet built truck slammed into the shield and detonated, ripping the madman's truck to pieces. The exploding truck perforated the shield of the MCV, the vaporized truck spraying both the Dutch crew and the hapless Alvis carrier with white-hot shrapnel.

Both men from the Hydrema MCV tumbled out of its doors, bleeding from dozens of superficial wounds. The crew of the Alvis was not so lucky. Thinly armored, the exploding truck had holed the carrier in several vital spots, including the crew compartment. Baranova swore and ordered her driver to get as close as he could to the fiercely burning mess.

**xxxixxx**

**As the explosions continued to envelop the tanker truck**, several Fedayeen supporters came running down the street shaking their fists and rifles at the wreck. The assassin, along with Grearson and Colwell, disappeared into the growing throng.

The Lance Corporal's AMTRAC pushed its way toward the boulevard.

"Commander! I need you up here pronto!"

Harm, hearing the urgency in the man's voice made his way through the jolting carrier toward the hatch ladder. Mac followed on his heels. When the naval Commander reached the hatch, the Lance Corporal handed the binoculars to Harm and pointed at the violently burning truck.

Harm felt his throat tighten and stomach knot up as he recognized the burning remains of Captain Butler's tanker truck.

Mac, grabbed an extra Kevlar helmet from the floor of the carrier and started making her way up to the hatch opening where Harm was standing.

"Harm? What's going on out there?" she asked, "Do you see him?"

Irritated with Flyboy's lapse in communication, she quickened her pace up the hatch ladder. "Harm? Hey Harm!" _What's up with him now? Sometimes that man is communicative as a brick wall…_

The Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. didn't really hear her – he stood looking in disbelief at the burning wreck.

"Navy!" Now she became concerned, whatever was drawing his attention away from her was keeping him from speaking as well.

"Harm! I-" Mac stopped as she reached the hatch opening and stuck her head outside. She immediately saw the roiling black cloud to their front. Not speaking, she pulled herself up until she was standing beside him. The Marine attorney looked on in disbelief at the burning wreck. There was no use asking of anyone had survived or if they should try to rescue Captain Butler or his driver.

She felt her stomach lurch.

Harm looked down and sighed heavily. They had come so close and now-

"Inta!_Hey! Xalli ba-lak!_Watch out! Wiqif!_Stop!" Harm quickly turned his head back toward the yelling Lance Corporal and the wreck to see what the problem was.

Several more Fedayeen supporters came running down the street shaking their fists at the wreck. Others dared to get close to fire, dancing around it like they were at a beach party.

Mac saw that the AMTRAC commander had his sidearm out and was motioning to the 'celebrating' Iraqis to keep back from the violently burning truck remains. Inta! Waqif!_ "Hey! Stop!" the Lance Corporal continued barking to no avail.

As the Commander turned to say something to the Lance Corporal, a pop, pop, pop followed by singing metal announced the arrival of several rounds, stray or deliberately aimed. Either someone was convinced the AMTRAC commander was going to fire on innocents or was just trying to add to carnage.

"Take cover!" yelled the Lance Corporal. All three dropped inside the relative safety of the AAV. All three landed on the floor of the amphibious personnel carrier with a thump and they nearly lost their balance. The AMTRAC Commander was the first to stand up.

"Frank! Get us outta here now!" yelled the commander down the length of the cavernous cargo toward the driver's station. All three stumbled as the AMTRAC grumbled to life and began to reverse back down the boulevard. That action seemed to embolden the group which was quickly transforming into a surging mob, thirsty for more blood. All three could hear objects bouncing off the amphibious carrier.

"Rocks and bricks now," grunted the commander as he made his way back to his gunner's station. "Recoilless rifles and RPGs next. We gotta stop that from happening!"

The lady Marine and the Navy aviator did not raise a protest. This was rapidly turning into a life and death situation. Mac grabbed a rifle from the floor of the carrier and slapped a cartridge into it. As she clicked off the safety, Harm pulled out his service pistol and cocked it. Both saw the commander of the vehicle grab the radio wire for his CVC helmet and plug it in to the vehicle's radio.

THIS IS TRACK FOUR TWO! WE ARE UNDER ASSAULT BY RIOTING CIVVIES!

WHERE ARE YOU FOUR TWO?

EAST OF THE MAIN SUPPLY ROUTE! GET US SOME BACKUP QUICK!

CAN YOU HOLD YOUR POSITION FOUR TWO?

NEGATIVE, NEGATIVE, SITUATION DETERIORATING RAPIDLY….

The reply to his call for help seemed to take forever. In the meantime, objects both large and small continued to bounce off of the carrier, sounding like hail hitting aluminum siding.

HANG IN THERE FOUR TWO, CAVALRY'S ON THE WAY! HOLD YOUR POSITION AS BEST YOU CAN.

ROGER THAT, HOPE THEY DON'T GET HERE TOO LATE!

As the Lance Corporal finished his report, Mac headed toward the commander's hatch.

Harm only watched for a moment before he reacted to what she was doing.

"Whoa Mac! Wait! Where do you think you're going?!" His arm shot out in an attempt to stop her. She resisted the protective move. His stunned expression made Mac look at him in askance.

"Harm, I'm a Marine, remember? Rifleman first-"

That jarred him into reacting. "Oh no you don't Sundance, get back here-" Mac could not believe that he was being like this again. She gave him a pained expression.

"Harm I've gotta drive these people back-"

The navy Commander tried logic. "Jarhead, in case you didn't notice those people are firing at us!" Harmon Rabb, Jr. was not buying her superwoman act.

But she just smirked sarcastically at him. "That's what usually happens in ground combat, Flyboy." She teased.

The Commander's voice, however, was firm. "You're not doing this alone."

"Fine, Butch," she said trying to make him back down, "We'll die together."

It didn't work, he merely smiled at her. "You're the one who wanted to go out with guns blazing."

She chuckled softly, shaking her head. "Great time to remind me, Harm."

Both reached for the hatch at the same time. Mac quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Maac," Harm said in frustrated tone, "I am not doing rock, paper, scissors over this to see who goes first!"

She smiled brightly at him. "Good, then I'll go first-"

He touched her arm, stilling her.

"We'll go out together." She looked into his piercing blue eyes and stern expression.

She hesitated only a moment before nodding in agreement.

"In blaze of glory?" She quipped nervously, licking her lips.

He smiled that thousand-watt smile. "Only if this carrier goes up like a roman candle; 'course if that happens we won't care and we won't have to worry about cremation…."

She rolled her eyes and chuckled ruefully at his gallows humor. "Thanks for that comforting thought, Navy."

"Anytime Marine, anytime."

**Mirbullah Police Station **

**As a MP's HMMWV pulled away from the front entrance** of the building, a thunderous explosion rocked the compound, sending Marines, Iraqi policemen, guards, and Civil Defense troops scrambling for cover.

Through the smoke and haze a four man commando team followed by second group of four, hustled across the front drive, firing from the hip as they ran. Two Iraqi Civil Defense Corps [ICDC] troopers fell, dropping their AK-74 rifles as they doubled over. One Marine caught a burst in the chest which sent him tumbling backward, arms flailing wildly for a handhold to grasp that didn't exist.

Two policemen and one of the guards regained their senses and began firing back, but their aim was off. Bullets smacked into one of the burning patrol cars and kicked up dirt and gravel.

Ignoring the wildly inaccurate fire, the two teams burst through the front doors of the station, shooting the desk sergeant to death before he could press an alarm button or draw his side arm.

As the teams moved into the lobby, they sprayed the room with suppressive fire. Marines and Iraqi police officers dove for protection behind walls and overturned furniture. The two lead men of team one opened up with RPK-74 squad rifles, spraying the entryway to the holding pen and the hall corridor.

Two guards, one Iraqi and one Marine, escorting an suspected Fedayeen soldier, sank to their knees grasping at their wounds. The prisoner, at first jubilant, recoiled in horror as he realized he was a target as well.

As the gunmen continued to expertly spray the walls and hallway, forcing all to lay on the floor or be killed, the prisoner found himself lying in a pool of his own blood beside the fallen guards.

Oblivious to their condition, the two teams rushed past the three sprawled in the hallway.

Passing the wounded, dead and dying, they made their way to the cell area. In the first cell they found a hysterically crying woman – grabbing her roughly, they shoved her out the door and into the smoky hallway. She continued to scream as she stepped into and around the dead and wounded.

The two teams were already on their way to the next cell, where they found two Marines, staring back at them with a mixture of shock and fear etched on their faces. Only the pitiless eyes of the killers could be seen. The rest of faces hid by their kefiyahs and ski masks.

They showed no emotion as they gunned down the two hapless prisoners. As the men fell to the ground, the lead commando pulled off his mask revealing Sergeant Colwell.

"That's not them!" He barked at the other gunmen.

"Where are they?!" demanded one of the others.

"I don't know! They were here a few hours ago!"

"Enough! Maybe they moved them to another cell or the interrogation room!" The man pulled his kefiyah back to reveal his Arabic features. "You, and you! Go down to the interrogation room, find them!"

"The rest of you! Come with us! Sergeant! Get your mask back on! We cannot afford to have you spotted now!"

Colwell pulled his mask back on as he backed out of the cell. What he didn't see was that one of the prisoners was spelling something in the blood that leaked from him.

In another cell, the commandos were hitting an Iraqi man with their rifle butts as he pleaded for his life. His called went unheeded as they tossed his battered body in the hallway shouting expletives at him as he crumpled onto the floor.

**xxxixxx**

**Ahmad Jalloud heard the explosions, gunfire and screams mixed with grunts**. His companions and fellow tankers, Khalid and Rafid looked nervously at their leader, but Jalloud's face held none of their emotions.

He had expected this; in most towns and villages near the Sunni Triangle, Americans were reviled and Saddam's soldiers were hailed as heroes and martyrs. He heard and understood what was happening as the rioters went from cell to cell, releasing Iraqi prisoners and killing any American guards or prisoners. He and his compatriots would soon be free.

Jalloud had a small twinge of regret that he would not see the pretty Marine Lieutenant Colonel again. Perhaps it was just as well – she was probably killed when the riots began. She would have been seen as collaborator and been shot during the first moments that the riot began.

At least now he would finally get back in the fight. He knew that foreign guerilla fighters loyal to one of Osama bin Laden's lieutenants – Samid Al-Sahood – had gathered some remnants of his division and survivors of Saddam's Fedayeen in defensive positions north of Mirbullah—

The door to his cell began to open. _At last_, he thought idly_, Khalid's snoring was beginning to – _his thoughts of relief turned to confusion as he saw the rioters force their way in. There were a couple of brother Iraqis in the group and some of those Arab volunteers of Al-Sahood's, but who were Caucasians? Were they mercenaries?

"You! Traitor!" barked the lead Arab pointing his AK-74 at Jalloud. "Over there! Move!"

His compatriots cowered in a corner of the cell surrounded by the rest of the commandos.

The lead man advanced menacingly toward the Iraqi tank commander. "You elitist!" he spat out. The man pointed at Jalloud while keeping his rifle trained on him. "Did you talk to the Marines?! Answer their questions?!"

"Our tank was destroyed before we had a chance to fight back," explained Jalloud, fear growing in his voice, "They surprised us with their gunship tactics-"

"LIAR!" Screamed the Arab, "You surrendered to them in return for your eventual freedom! You traitorous dog, your love of money and the decadent Western way of life has been revealed to us-"

"What?!" Snapped Jalloud, regaining his courage in the face of such preposterous charges. He was angered by man's thick-headedness. "Do I look like I am sitting in the lap of luxury – do you see maidens prancing about?!"

"Silence!" barked the man, swinging his rifle across Jalloud's face, breaking his nose and crushing the bone beneath his left eye. "Shut up you worthless mongrel!"

The tank commander stumbled backward, failing to maintain his balance. He landed on his back, as his driver and gunner watched terrified – unsure of what was going to happen next.

Bloody but still defiant, Jalloud sat up and then got up on his knees, not to beg for mercy, but because it was as far as he could rise given his present condition. "You idiots!" he screamed in his best officer voice. "I'm an officer in the Republican Guard! You stupid Mujahideen! You're all alike! Only those you deem pure are worthy-"

"-And it is your decadence that led to the destruction of your unit!" The Arab fired back, "You witnessed our ambush in Mirbullah instead of manning your position! Right?!"

Ahmad Jalloud knew he was about to be sentenced by this mobile judicial unit – but why? Then as if a fog bank was lifting he saw the reason why.

"You! What are-" The words froze on his tongue as a hail of automatic fire ripped into his body.

The Arab turned to Khalid and Rafid. "Your worthless coward of a commander has been forgiven for his transgressions-" before he or any of the other commandos could react the surviving crew members of tank 300, using strength born of pure fear, knocked the assassins out of their way and bolted for the door. One of the commandos started to raise his rifle and fire at the fleeing men.

"No!" The commando shot a quick look from the man who gave the order, Sergeant Colwell, to the apparent leader of the squad, the Arab gunman.

"He's right, let them return to their families. They are worthless to our cause." Growled the Arab leader.

**xxxixxx**

**Benjamin Lukens sat up on his bed as did Frederick Buell**. Buell laid his book down as he listened to the gunfire and explosions in the distance.

"What's going on?" Asked the Cobra weapons officer.

I don't know, replied the Cobra pilot, "But I'm gonna find out – Hey!" he yelled down the length of the dark hall. "Hey! What's going on out there?!"

"Shut up!" Snapped the MP.

The gunfire and explosions seemed to be coming closer

The Cobra crew looked at each other. They had to get out of here – they were sitting ducks in this prison cell

"Hey!" continued Lukens undeterred by the rebuke, "Let us out of here!"

**xxxixxx**

**In another part of the village, a squad of Marines** were crouched by the corner of a house. Just down the street, some of the rioters had set up a light machinegun and were firing away at the Marines' protection. As the Marines hugged the wall, the light machinegun chipped away at the other side of the house. Though they couldn't see it, some of the rioters were setting up more machineguns and now a few of them were armed with RPGs.

"Sergeant, we gotta take the gun out before someone gets hurt," said a Corporal who could have passed for a linebacker. He tried to keep an eye on the insurgents.

Paul Colwell has just rejoined the fight on the Marines' side and this was first unit he had the misfortune to run into. He did not realize they were headed back into the fighting – that was his first mistake.

SERGEANT?! A panicked Private noticed the commanding officer didn't seem to be doing anything to help. To try and keep the rioters at bay, he stuck his rifle around the corner and let off a short burst from his M-16.

Paul had to do something quick. He scanned the area behind him.

"Corporal when I give you the signal, head for the opposite side of the street. I'll get you men back – I promise."

Sergeant Colwell picked up his gear and ran back toward the MSR.

The Corporal watched as the man ran down the street. _I hope the Sergeant knows what he is doing…_

**xxxixxx**

"**You ready?"** Mac nodded grimly at Harm. "Three…two…one….go!"

Both burst through the closed hatch, knocking bricks and paving stones off the top of the AAV. Bullets continued to sing through the smoky air above them.

They exchanged a quick glance of silent understanding. Both raised their weapons and fired into the air.

The staccato of Mac's M4A1 Carbine on full auto and the bang, bang, bang of Harm's 9mm Parabellum automatic handgun sent the advancing mob scattering in every direction. A few hastily snapped off rounds sailed over the carrier in response, but it didn't last long as the general organization of the mob fragmented and shattered, destroying their offensive capability.

**xxxixxx**

**"Why does keeping the peace have to be so violent?"** the lead MP shook his head as he and his ICDC troops stood at the roadblock. The Iraqi officer merely looked disgustedly at the burning vehicles and buildings

"They are destroying themselves, the idiots," he muttered to no one in particular.

Bud, Sturgis and Nick's HMMWV rolled up to the roadblock and parked close to the roadblock. They all watched the billowing clouds of smoke rising from various points in Mirbullah.

"Is that gunfire?" asked Bud.

The lead MP viewed the chaos resignedly and nodded his head. "Yeah. So much for winning their hearts and minds."

"Where is that coming from?" asked Sturgis about the rapid weapon reports, punctuated by the occasional whoosh of an RPG rocket.

"The feeder road east of the MSR, Sir. One of our AMTRACs found some of the convoy members trapped and tried to rescue them…."

Sturgis and Bud exchanged a telling look and then they both turned to the medic. No words were exchanged but there was agreement among the three.

"…now they're trapped themselves." Continued the MP unaware of the plan being formed.

"The convoy members?" Repeated Bud, doing his best to keep the MP distracted.

"Yeah, a fuel tanker got turned around in the village and was torched."

Nick spoke for both of the lawyers. "Sergeant we gotta get to that tanker, now."

The MP Sergeant glared at the medic. "Corpsman, no one is going down that road until the relief force gets here. It would be suicide. Those celebrating Iraqis would rip you, the Commander and the Lieutenant to shreds."

Their best friends were in that swirling cauldron of violence. Commander Sturgis Turner spoke solemnly and with conviction "We'll take that chance Sergeant,"

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Sir…." replied one of the Iraqi police officers as he produced a pistol.

**xxxixxx**

**The surly MP was this close to committing assault**. He'd had enough out of these two air jockeys. "I'm only gonna tell you jerks one more time! Pipe down or I'm gonna-"

"You have to let us out," pleaded Buell, "You can't leave us to die in here!"

"No one is gonna die – today! Now settle down!"

The explosion across the street caused all three of them to turn their heads toward the source of the blast.

**xxxixxx**

**Taking cover behind a bullet riddled abandoned dump truck**, Corporal Seth Grearson never figured this is what Captain Lewis meant by a diversion. "They're ripping the place apart," he muttered. Seth turned to see three Privates, a Private First Class and a Lance Corporal running toward him. The men took cover on either side of Grearson

"Where's your squad leader?" yelled Grearson above the sounds of battle.

"Dead sir!" came back the response as the Lance Corporal took a moment to sight his rifle on a running insurgent. A quick three round burst sent the rioter stumbling into a group of garbage cans. The noise made by him falling over the cans was almost lost in the steady reports of machineguns and rifles. The PFC crouching next to him shoved a 40-millimeter high explosive grenade round into his M-203 grenade launcher. "Glad we found you Corp!" he added giving the man a quick smile

"Yeah, me too," grunted Grearson as bullets continued to whack and ping off the truck.

**xxxixxx**

**As AMTRAC Four Two stopped backing away** from the disorganized mob, Harm gripped Mac's arm and pointed off to his left. Down a side street, they spotted the convoy stopped.

"Butler's driver!" blurted out Mac as she saw Corporal Wilkins conversing with one of the other truck drivers.

Harm yelled down into the AAV. "Swing us to the left down that side street!"

The Lance Corporal looked incredulously at the two JAG Corps lawyers. "Sir, we were told to hold our position and that's what I intend to do!"

Mac shot her best Marine DI glare at the man. "Belay that order Lance Corporal!" snarled the lady Marine, "Do as the Commander says, Now!"

Years of military training kicked in. The Lance Corporal snapped to. "Aye, aye Colonel! Bring'er around Frank, on the double!" The big carrier swung to the left and clattered down the alley toward the remains of the convoy.

**xxxixxx**

"**Come on," repeated Ben for the fourth time**, "Let us outta here!"

The MP looked at the prisoners and then back toward the source of the firing.

He fished out his ring of keys and inserted one into the lock. "All right; but if you guys make a run for it-"

Ben nodded hurriedly as the MP worked on unlocking the cell door. "You can shoot us in the back and bury us in the battalion landfill! Look, you have my word, okay?! Now get this door open!"

The MP pulled open the door and the two desperate Cobra crewmen moved into the hallway as he pulled the unlocked the jail cell door open wider. The three quickly made their way to the entrance of the detention area.

**xxxixxx**

**Nick exchanged a look with Sturgis. ** They weren't going to get anywhere discussing their concerns with these soldiers – their orders were clear – keep anyone else from going into the village. If they wanted to rescue their friends they were going to have to do it by themselves.

Sturgis nodded to Bud, who quietly slipped the Humvee into gear.

"You're right," The former submariner said reasonably, "We should just wait here. It's safer…." The Iraqi Civil Defense trooper and the Marine began to relax.

A loud explosion drew their attention away for just a moment. That was all the time that Bud needed. He stomped on the accelerator, weaving through the makeshift barricades. The two guards could only stare dumbly as the vehicle roared down the block toward the sound of the battle.

**xxxixxx **

**Lieutenant Prine slumped against the side of the Polish BRDM**. The Polish Corpsman attended his minor burns and numerous wounds.

"You are lucky to be alive." Commented the Polish medic. Baranova, in all the commotion after the bombing, had taken off her camouflaged fritz style Kevlar helmet. The clips that usually held her soft brown hair on head had fallen as soft brown shoulder length curls which framed the concerned look on her face.

She nodded in agreement as she watched the man work on the British officer. "He is right. That truck bomb was meant to kill you, Lieutenant."

"Well… they almost… bloody well succeeded…." Prine said haltingly through his gritted teeth as the Corpsman bandaged the stump of the man's right arm. "I won't be …ahh…playing cricket anytime soon…will I?"

The Polish combat medic, not having a good grasp on British sports, exchanged a puzzled look with Baranova, and then merely smiled and patted the artilleryman's good shoulder.

"That's what I bloody well…figured…." The British artilleryman grunted as the medic began working on some of the man's less serious wounds.

**xxxixxx**

**The AAV clattered down the alley toward the convoy vehicles**. Harm was scanning the area to the left side of their vehicle, fortunately, the mob seemed to have dispersed He was about to say something to the lady Marine, when he felt a pair of hands shove his head downward.

A bottle careened off the open hatch door with a hollow ka-bong. Harm, his eyes wide open in surprise, was staring up at Mac.

"Stay alert Squid! You almost had your bell rung!" Harm was climbing back up and about to respond when the carrier rattled to a halt. Both lawyers turned to see a large group of people converging on the AMTRAC from the front

The Corporal opened his hatch motioning at both of them "They're coming back," he announced unnecessarily, "Looks like your efforts at humanitarian dispersal failed – guess we'll have to do it the hard way this time."

He ducked a bottle aimed at his head. "They don't look as gentle as the other group." He turned his turret mounted machine gun toward the approaching group.

Mac and Harm exchanged soulful looks and then lifted their weapons and prepared to fire again – this time with the intent of inflicting bodily harm.

They were about to fire when the mob again melted and began to disperse. Approaching engines from behind them signaled that reinforcements had arrived. The lawyers exchanged quick looks of relief, but they kept their weapons drawn and pointed at the rapidly dispersing crowd.

"Colonel! Commander!" Bud's eager voice made them smile.

"Bud!" Harm called out smiling, "Sounds like you brought the cavalry with you!"

"Hey you! Halt!" All three on the carrier turned in time to see a group of MP's pointing their rifles at Bud, Nick and Sturgis. The three slowly get out of their HMMWV with their hands raised.

Confusion clouded the AMTRAC passengers' faces. Harm shot Mac a 'what's going on look'. Mac looked at the Humvee and then back at Harm, shrugging her shoulders.

"Actually Sir," said Bud as the lead MP wrapped plastic cuffs on his wrists, "They aren't reinforcements, they were chasing us because we ran a roadblock."

Harm and Mac look incredulously at the junior officer, who gave them a sick smile.

Sturgis looked sheepishly at his academy buddy and his Marine friend. "It was the only way to get them to follow us."

**-TBC…**


	21. Chapter 20

**Chapter XX - **…**For Meritorious Service  
><strong>

**Mac's expression hardened as Sturgis, Nick and Bud** were lead back to MP's HMMWV.

"Sergeant, let these men go now!"

The Sergeant and the ICDC soldier stopped in their tracks and turned back to face the carrier and the Marine lawyer.

"Ma'am with all due respect, these guys deliberately ran our roadblock-"

"Sergeant," said Harm adding his own voice of authority, "We know what these men did. The Colonel and I will take charge of them, now take the handcuffs off and let them go."

The Defense Corps trooper looked at the lady Marine and then back at the MP.

The Marine MP hissed as he shook his head.

"Turn'em loose, Anwar. Do as the Colonel and Commander say."

Reluctantly, the Iraqi soldier cut the plastic handcuffs from the three men. Nick and Bud rubbed their wrists, chafed by the tight temporary bracelets.

Bud looked up gratefully at her. "Thanks Colonel! I-"

Mac glared at the junior officer. "Lieutenant! You disobeyed the direct order of a military police officer!"

Rocked by the accusation, Bud fought to regain his footing. "Ma'am we-"

"No excuses Lieutenant," added Harm, admonishing the younger officer. "You, the Commander, and the Corpsman, get on board…now."

"This is the thanks we get for keeping you from getting killed?" Sturgis Turner knew what they were doing, but he had to play his part to make this work.

"You of all people should know better, Commander," Mac said icily. Sturgis dropped his eyes so he wouldn't have to meet her harsh glare. He moved over to join the other two silent would-be rescuers.

All three chastened men waited for the rear door ramp on the AAV-7A1 carrier to lower and then they climbed into the personnel compartment and seated themselves.

Mac looked sympathetically at the Sergeant and the Iraqi trooper. "I apologize for the rash behavior of my fellow officers. They were concerned about our safety, surely  
>you can understand that."<p>

The MP Sergeant looked from the Colonel to the rear of AAV. "Yes Ma'am, I can, but-"

"We understand Sergeant," said Harm magnanimously, "You can't just have anyone charging onto a battlefield. Rest assured, they will be disciplined for their actions."

As the MPs and ICDC troopers headed back to their HMMWV's, Mac leaned over to Harm and whispered quietly to her partner. "Do you think they bought it?"

Harm tried to keep his smile from looking fake as he waved at the retreating military police officers. "We're not sticking around to find out," He turned to the AAV commander. "Can you get us back over to the convoy?"

"As long as they stay where they-" he stopped in mid-sentence when he noticed Mac's brown-eyed glare. "Uh, sorry Sir, we'll follow`em wherever they go."

**xxxxxx**

**"Where'd the Sergeant go?!" griped one of the Privates** about Colwell's disappearance as he and his partner finally got their Squad Automatic Weapon (SAW) set up so they could return fire.

It hadn't been easy, but the insurgents flush with their recent victories and apparent invincibility, had gotten careless. They left open an unprotected avenue of approach. The seasoned Marines quickly took advantage of that. Private Blevins and his gunner began firing their SAW at the insurgents.

Within minutes, short controlled bursts from Blevin's SAW had silenced most of the machineguns. That's when the Corporal saw Captain Jac Lewis making his way forward from another fire team's position.

**xxxxxx**

**The AAV rattled to a stop in next to the stopped convoy**. As Mac and Harm started to get down from the amphibious carrier, the Lance Corporal held up his CVC helmet toward both of them.

"Ma'am, Sir, it's Captain Johnson. He'd like to speak with one of you." Harm and Mac exchanged a look, trying to decide who would talk with the MEU legal aide. Harm nodded toward her.

"You take the call; I'll go have a chat with Butler's driver." Mac nodded and took the helmet handed to her by the Lance Corporal. Harm walked over to the edge and began climbing down the side of the carrier. Taking off her helmet, she slipped on the CVC and pressed the talk button.

"This is Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie…."

"MacKenzie?" Johnson's voice sounded tinny on helmet headset. "What are you doing inside Mirbullah?"

She understood his confusion. At last report, they were headed to Al Nasiriyah. "We were trying to get to Captain Butler before he was killed—he had information about the case."

"Butler's dead!? How? What happened?"

This was hard for him to fathom. Heck, it was hard for her to keep up with the twists and turns of this case. "He knew-"

"Knew? Knew what? Colonel you're not making any sense-"

Okay, maybe this would make sense to him. "He knew who the killer was."

Johnson's voice became demanding, "Did he tell you?"

Mac sighed heavily. "No, he was killed in the riots before we could learn who the murderer was. An RPG took out his tanker truck."

Exasperation crept into his tone. "Well that's just great; his death now makes it at least ten of ours killed today."

"The riots?"

"Yeah and an attack on the police station."

Mac felt a chill penetrate her all the way to the core of her body. "The police station?"

She was just there the other day. Despite her feelings of shock, she also breathed a sigh of relief. She and Harm had done the right thing in getting their clients moved from there.

"Colonel, that Iraqi tank commander you talked to a few days ago…he was among those killed…."

Mac could see Ahmad Jalloud's smiling face as she left his cell. Another senseless death, but she had to keep her mind on the current situation. "What about the crewmen that were with him?"

"Missing." said Johnson without missing a beat. "No trace of them. We're guessing they were dragged off and killed by the rioters that attacked the jail."

**xxxxxx**

**Grearson and his adopted squad hugged **the flattened tires of the truck as another RPG round hit its burning cab.

"They're trying to blast away our cover Corp!" said the Lance Corporal as he ducked to avoid another stray bullet. "Should we rush'em?!"

"That would be suicide." Seth turned to see Paul Colwell move up beside him. Both exchanged wry grins.

"What'll we do Sergeant?" said Grearson with false concern dripping from his voice. Colwell shot Seth a nasty look.

**xxxxxx**

**"Cap'n!" Lewis recognized the voice** and turned toward the man, "Am I glad to see you!"

Lewis grinned and nodded while motioning his troops over to the lost squad.

"How did you get here?" asked the Captain, as he moved close to the Corporal that Colwell had just abandoned.

"Got separated from our unit when we started chasing down the insurgents…." reported the Corporal somewhat embarrassed.

"We were waiting for a signal from the Sergeant when you showed up…."

Jac Lewis' eyes narrowed, "Your Sergeant?" Jac couldn't believe that Sergeant Jackson, the Corporal's squad leader, would leave his men like this.

"No Sir, a straggler like us," replied the man quickly.

_I'll bet I know who that Sergeant is…._ Jac grumbled to himself. _Colwell!_

At that moment, the Corporal's men announced the alley was clear and the two squads charged up the alley past the dead and dying insurgents, taking over their position. As soon they occupied it, the Marines began scanning the nearby buildings for snipers.

**xxxxxx**

**"Come with me Corporal." said Sergeant Colwell** like the cool professional that he was.

"Let's see if we can outflank'em."

"Aye, aye, Sergeant," replied Seth winking at him.

Paul grimaced as he turned to his newfound squad. "You men continue your suppressive fire! Don't give them a chance to get the upper hand."

"Aye, aye, Sergeant!" came back the reply.

**xxxxxx**

**Mac thought she had finished and was about** to get off the radiotelephone when Major Vince Barnett came on the line. "Colonel MacKenzie, you heard about Jalloud's death?"

"Captain Johnson told me." replied Mac stoically.

"Johnson told me about Captain Butler; I still can't believe it."

There was something in the way he said that sounded insincere to Mac, but she decided not to pursue that right now. "Neither can we, Major."

Barnett must have detected the Colonel's skeptical tone, because he quickly changed the subject.

"Colonel, you and Commander need to head over to the MEU detention facility as soon as you can. The rioters were reported heading that way."

**xxxxxx**

**"What happened to him?"** continued Lewis as soon as they were sure they were relatively safe.

He wanted to know if this Sergeant was who he thought it was.

"Dunno Cap'n, guess he got himself killed." So much for learning from the good Corporal who this guy was _…But I'm betting it's Colwell_.

Jac shook his head pretending to be sad at the senselessness of `the death'. "Why didn't he just outflank them?"

"I think he was trying to do that sir," replied one of the Privates, "Uh, He told us to wait here and he'd give us a signal."

**xxxxxx**

Tiner came up from the basement on the elevator. As soon as the door opened, he was almost knocked over by an obviously preoccupied Jennifer Coates as she pushed her way in. She was busy looking at the witness list given to her by Major Clemons.

"Jen?"

Jennifer Coates looked up into Jason Tiner's curious eyes and immediately felt the heat rush to her face.

"Oh, hello." She averted her eyes from his questioning gaze.

Jason realized he had made her self-conscious and that made him nervous as well. He looked away from her as the doors slid shut.

Realizing this was the floor he had wanted, he started toward the closed doors and then stopped, not sure what to do next.

"Didn't you want off?" asked Jennifer as a smirk threatened the corners of her lips.

Jason gave a self-effacing smile and a shrug.

She looked away from his face to keep from smiling at his discomfort. "So, you wanna come with me to file room?" She said with a boldness she didn't realize she had.

"I'd be happy to help if you need help," he said in typical Tiner fashion. He looked at her helplessly as she looked up into his face. He could see she was fighting hard not to laugh out loud. "You know what I mean," he said in a defeated tone.

_Time to bolster this guy's ego._ "Sure," she said brightly, "I need your help and I could use your help, too."

He rolled his eyes nodding. "That sounded pretty stupid, didn't it?" He waited for the humiliating confirmation.

"I've said worse," she said off-handedly. The doors to the elevator opened. Tiner said a silent prayer that Major Clemons was still upstairs.

"Come on, there is a pretty big Pendaflex® box that I'll need help with." Jason smiled; at least it would be a legitimate excuse. If it was the box he thought she was talking about, it would take the two of them to bring it back upstairs.

**xxxxxx**

**As Colwell and Grearson began moving away from the group**, Seth grabbed Paul's arm.

"Well?" he asked quietly, so that the others would not hear, "Did you take care of that gunship crew?"

Colwell sneered. "Those damn JAG lawyers had `em moved!" he growled.

"Well that's just peachy!" fumed Grearson, "You'd better hope the old man doesn't find out!"

Colwell shot him another dirty look. "Yeah, well at least that blabbermouth Iraqi tank commander won't be able to finger us."

Seth's eyes widened. "You killed him?"

Paul's smile bordered on sinister. "When we raided the police station-"

"SERGEANT, CORPORAL!" Both men turned to see a First Lieutenant motioning at them.

**xxxxxx**

**Two Polish BRDM-2s slowly made their way down the street in Al Nasiriyah**, pelted from either side of the street by rocks and bottles. The two IVECO diesel-engined scout cars slowly swung their conical turrets in a menacing arc toward either side of the street, trying to intimidate the restive crowd.

Inside BRDM #2732, the commander nervously looked over at his radioman.

"Well? Where is Colonel Baranova?" he demanded. The vehicle commander did not like this situation one bit. At any moment he expected the gunner to scream out that he saw an RPG round headed toward them. Without appliqué standoff armor, their vehicle stood little chance of surviving a direct hit if someone did fire a round at them.

"She is still south of town." reported the radioman. "The Colonel is helping the British recover from an attack by a suicide truck bomber."

"So we are on our own for the time being…." grunted the commander.

"It would appear so," replied the radioman shrugging his shoulders helplessly.

The commander sighed and looked over at the gunner. "Very well. Load blanks and fire over the heads of the protesters. If they respond with gunfire, we will return fire with live rounds."

The man began loading the blank round belts into the ammo tray and began feeding it into the machinegun. "Yes Sir."

**xxxxxx**

**"Well, stick with Lieutenant Barnes,"** said Jac motioning to his second in command, "I'll go see if I can find the Sergeant's body."

"Aye, aye Cap'n!" replied the Corporal.

"Lieutenant!"

The junior officer quickly made his way over to the Captain. "Yes Sir?"

"I'm gonna look for their missing Sergeant – get everyone back to our perimeter. On the double, Lieutenant! Move it!"

"Aye, aye Sir!" He turned back to the two squads. "Come on Marines, let's move out!"

As they headed back to the 36th's front lines, Jac turned and followed the `hapless' Sergeant's trail. As he passed a dead sniper hanging out of a window, he reached up and yanked the man's SVD sniper rifle out of his hands. The dead sniper fell with a thud into the dirt. Jac Lewis quickly checked to make sure the rifle was still operational, and then chambered a round.

"Sergeant Colwell better be dead, or he's gonna wish he was." he muttered to himself as he pursued his quarry.

**xxxxxx**

**Corporal Wilkins looked up to see Commander Harmon Rabb approaching**. He remembered the man and two other legal officers were talking to Captain Butler before they left Al Nasiriyah. One of his buddies looked up at the parked carrier and the tall naval officer walking toward them.

"Were we supposed to get an armored escort?"

Wilkins looked at Commander Rabb and the idling carrier. "Not that I was aware of."

"Corporal Wilkins?"

The Corporal stood up. "Yes sir?"

"Commander Harmon Rabb, JAG Corps. Do you remember me talking with your Captain?"

Wilkins nodded. "Yes sir."

Harm could see the confusion and pain in Wilkins' eyes that comes from losing a fellow soldier in combat. "I'm sorry about your Captain…."

Wilkins looked down and then directly at the Commander. "He saved our lives Sir."

**xxxxxx**

**The Lieutenant looked sternly at the two non-commissioned officers.** "We've got to rally these troops, Sergeant. You take command of the squad over by that shop."

"Aye, aye, Lieutenant." Colwell said crisply.

The officer turned toward Corporal Grearson. "Follow me, Corporal…." Paul Colwell exchanged a look with Seth Grearson, who shrugged his shoulders and followed the  
>Lieutenant.<p>

**xxxxxx**

**The gunfire seemed particularly heavy to his right**. Jac Lewis, keeping his SVD rifle low, ran in between some bullet riddled cars and saw what he had been searching for.

**xxxxxx**

**Harm and Butler's man were sitting on the running board** of one of the idling tanker trucks.

"Tell me what happened, Wilkins."

"The Captain was leading us through the town-"

"Why was he in the town?"

"It was the Corporal Grearson's fault, Sir."

"Corporal Grearson?" Harm remembered the man had been directing traffic just outside of Mirbullah. _Could he have mislead Butler?_

"Yes Sir, we ended up here, wandering around in the alleys. Then the Captain saw Sergeant Colwell, and he pointed us toward boulevard that leads out of town." He looked at Harm and said with sincerity. "Guess he didn't realize that the Fedayeen had set up an ambush for us on that road."

"Yeah," said Harm slowly. He realized they may have just found the real break they were looking for. Butler had been part of it, but these two – Grearson and Colwell – they  
>really knew what had happened and maybe they could tell them what part Colonel Livingston played in all this, if any at all.<p>

"Harm!"

The Commander and Corporal turned to see Mac running toward them.

"Barnett says the rioters are headed for the MEU detention facility – we've got to get Lukens and Buell out of there now!"

"Uh, Corporal…." Harm was torn between learning more from the Corporal and protecting his clients.

"No problem, Sir, we'll be okay here."

"Come on Harm! Move your six!"

Harm reluctantly turned and trotted back to the revving AAV.

**xxxxxx**

**While the Lieutenant scouted the enemy positions**, Paul and Seth had a moment to themselves.

"What did you mean, you attacked the police station?"

"Al-Sahood's scouts had spotted Buell and Lukens and that Republican Guard tank commander being questioned by the JAG lawyers at the station. That's why we attacked it."

"So Jalloud's dead?"

"Yeah, he won't be bugging us-"

"Colwell!" snapped the First Lieutenant, "Get over here now!"

Giving a pained expression to Grearson, Paul Colwell headed over to the senior officer's position.

Corporal Seth Grearson settled down on the dirt embankment and pointed his rifle toward the insurgents' location.

**xxxxxx**

**Jac observed Seth Grearson lying prone on a dirt embankment**, his rifle pointing toward the rioters. He was lying next to the two Lance Corporals.

From the Captain's vantage point he could see that Seth was instructing the men to split their force and attack the insurgents from both sides. That would be perfect.

In all the fighting and confusion, no one would notice a sniper taking aim.

Lewis slipped into a two-story house and made his way to the second floor window, careful to avoid stray rounds buzzing through the room. He crept up to the windowsill and slid his rifle out over the balcony parapet. Carefully he sighted the rifle until the crosshairs were lined up on Grearson's helmet.

**xxxxxx**

**Colwell and the Lieutenant were sitting in a ditch watching the Corporal** as he ordered the men to fan out and begin their assault on the rioters. Paul saw Seth's head jerk upwards once and then fall into the dirt.

"SNIPERS!" yelled the First Lieutenant. What he didn't notice was Sergeant Colwell smiling.

**xxxxxx**

**Jac Lewis slowly pulled the rifle back in the window** and watched as the Marines scrambled to recover their lost initiative. Several were pointing towards Jac's window.

By the time they began firing at the sniper's suspected position, Captain Lewis was already headed back down the stairs. As he rounded a corner on the stairwell, he came face to face with one of the insurgents holding an SKS rifle. Jac brought up his gun and smacked the man across the face, causing him to tumble forward.

Captain Lewis easily caught the falling man.

"Easy does it there, son. You tripped." He kicked the dazed man's rifle out of the way and shoved his sniper rifle into his hands. "Careful, you almost dropped this."

**xxxxxx**

**Two Marines barged their way through the open doorway **of the house when they spotted Lewis shoving the injured man in front of him toward the two soldiers.

"I caught him after he shot Corporal Grearson," he said tossing the sniper rifle to the closer of the two Marines.

The soldiers began grinning. "Good going sir," said the closer one.

Jac Lewis wasn't in the mood for praise. "Where's Colwell?" he said brusquely.

"Over with the Lieutenant, sir," the second Marine replied, understanding the man's irritation.

"Come on, buster," Captain Lewis roughly shoved his prisoner ahead of him.

**xxxxxx**

**The Lieutenant turned to see his Captain** pushing a prisoner toward him. "Caught him just after he shot the Corporal," explained Jac.

He motioned to Sergeant Colwell. "Lieutenant, you're in charge; the Sergeant and I will take this prisoner back to headquarters."

The Lieutenant, just a few days out of Quantico's Basic School, saluted smartly. "Aye, aye, Captain."

Paul Colwell trained his rifle on the hapless Iraqi man as the two marched him in the general direction of the BLT Headquarters.

**xxxxxx**

**Moving down alleyways and through gullies and makeshift trenches**, Lewis and Colwell prodded their prisoner back toward the Marine base.

"Good idea Jac", said Colwell grinning and motioning to the prisoner, "Pinning the murder on this guy; they'll never believe that he didn't do it."

"Ties up things pretty neatly," said Jac coldly, not looking at the Sergeant.

"So Buddy," began Paul, talking as if the Iraqi didn't exist. "I'm not doing this for free; I take it we split Grearson's loot among us, right?"

"First things first," said Jac stopping and looking at the Sergeant for the first time since they began their trek back to the BLT, "Did you clean up the mess?"

Paul Colwell couldn't look the Captain in the eye. "Well," he began nervously, "we got rid of that Iraqi tank commander-"

"That's not what I asked you!" Lewis growled. He looked at the Sergeant the way someone looks at a stain on their best outfit. "I asked you if you cleaned up the mess!"

"Those JAGs moved Lukens and Buell," said Colwell, hastily trying to placate the man. "We attacked the police station just like you said to do, but they weren't there."

"So did you try and find them?"

"Sure we did," Paul was betting the man wouldn't figure out that he was lying. "But it didn't do any good. Those JAG officers hid them real good."

Jac nodded as if he understood. "Well I guess you did your best,"

"Damn straight," said Paul Colwell bluntly, "Now when do I get paid?"

"When we find Secord," Jac replied grimly.

**xxxxxx**

**The MPs finished stacking the last of the sandbags** in front of the entrance to the jail. At the dirt berm, the crew of FIREFLY ONE manned the M60 light machine gun. They swung the gun from left to right, watching for the approaching Iraqi rioters.

"Are you ready?" Lukens called out to the military policemen stacking sandbags.

"Are they coming?" asked one of the MPs, who left the group working in front of the jail and joined the two men.

"There are few guys over there." Buell pointed to the alleyway.

"They must be doing recon for the rest of them." replied the Cobra pilot. As he finished speaking, a Molotov cocktail sailed over his head and landed just on the outside of the sandbag wall, bursting into flame as the bottle shattered. The contents, gasoline mixed with dishwashing detergent, drizzled down the front of the bag trailing tongues of bright flame.

Lieutenant Buell did not wait for a second bottle. He sighted the general-purpose machine gun along the center of mass of the last man in the group. Releasing a short burst from the gun, the man stumbled and fell. Lukens pointed to the right. Buell fired again.

This time a man with lighted bottle in hand, grabbed his stomach, and sank to his knees. The bottle he was holding dropped out of his hands and rolled away from him. The  
>other two men, the remains of the assaulting team, faltered. They were not sure they could successfully finish their mission.<p>

Their hesitancy sealed their fate; the MPs behind the sandbags sighted on the two men and fired. Both went down and did not get back up.

"Cease fire, cease fire, we stopped `em!" called out the head MP. Several of the men cheered, but it was short lived as machinegun fire raked both the berm and the sandbag wall, forcing everyone to take cover.

**xxxxxx**

**"Cap'n!" Private First Class Adam Secord** headed toward Paul Colwell and Jac Lewis.

He eyed the bedraggled man standing silently by them. "What'd he do?"

Sergeant Colwell snorted, "He killed Grearson. The Captain caught him as he was leaving the scene."

"You dirty Sonvab-" Secord launched himself at the Iraqi man, slamming him to the ground and raining blows on his face and head. The man cried out and held up his hands, an ineffective shield against the repeated blows.

Colwell looked at Lewis. The Captain motioned for him to put a stop to it. Hissing disgustedly, Colwell grabbed the Private roughly and tossed him over into the tall grass near the trench they were in.

"At ease, Secord! Put a cork in it!" barked the Sergeant.

Unbridled anger rippled through the young PFC's features. "But Sergeant! He killed-"

"I TOLD YOU PUT A CORK IN IT PRIVATE!" Bellowed Colwell. "NOW!"

Adam slowly picked himself up out of the grass, and stood looking sullenly at the Iraqi who was cowering next to the Captain.

"Easy kid," said Jac in a friendly voice, "The guy was just doing what he was ordered to do."

"Yeah Secord," added Colwell, "Look at it this way; fewer people to split the loot among. We all get bigger shares, understand?"

"Seth was a good friend," Adam fired back, "I can't see how you guys can be so cold."

"We can be, as you would say, `so cold' Adam," replied Jac, "Because Seth messed up, if he hadn't, he would still be alive."

"How'd he mess up?" Adam Secord did not realize just how dangerous the waters were that he had sailed into.

"He let Butler's driver see who he was," said Jac clinically. Paul nodded sagely.

"But he probably saw Colwell too," Adam injected. Paul froze as the words of betrayal left the PFC's lips.

Jac's voice grew detached as he stared at Sergeant Colwell. "You're know Adam, you're right."

Before Paul Colwell could say anything, Jac Lewis turned, pointed his rifle at the man, and fired point-blank. The impact of the single shot from the M-16A2 assault rifle sent the unfortunate Sergeant stumbling backwards. His face a mixture of surprise and pain, Paul Colwell looked up at Captain Lewis.

"Why?" was the only thing the Sergeant was able to say before he died. The Arab was down on his knees, his hands over his ears. He cried `Allah protect me' over and over again between sobs.

Jac turned to face a horrified Adam. "That's what happens to people who mess up, Adam."

**xxxxxx**

**Lukens and Buell were returning fire toward the source of the insurgent assault**, when a third set of machineguns, punctuated by a 40mm infantry support grenade launcher broke  
>the standoff. The lead MP looked up to see an AAV making its way down the street, chasing the scattering insurgents.<p>

"Pour it on guys! He barked, "Looks like the white hats have arrived!"

The MPs, heartened by the timely arrival of reinforcements, concentrated their fire on the retreating rioters and gunmen.

As they abandoned their assault, one man got down on his knee and fired his RPG-7. The rocket propelled anti-tank grenade burrowed into a wall to the left of the amphibious carrier, as the gunner's aim was thrown off at the last second by the stuttering machine guns of the AAV. Unable to attach another rocket in time, the man threw down the useless stock of his weapon and joined the other fleeing Iraqi gunmen.

The AMTRAC continued to fire at the fleeing insurgents, as the MPs, Lukens, and Buell snapped off shots at the fleeing rioters. The lumbering carrier rolled to stop beside the command and control vehicles of the MEU and the squad of MPs.

"Cease fire! Cease fire!" The head MP held up his hand to indicate the signal to stop firing. The commander's hatch on the carrier opened, revealing a Lance Corporal. The drop ramp on the carrier opened revealing the JAG Corps officers and a combat medic.

Nick quickly surveyed the damage. "Is anyone hurt?"

The head MP looked disgustedly at the lawyers de-bussing from the carrier. "No, and we don't want to sue anybody either! Who in blazes let them get into this free fire zone?!"

"We were trying to keep Captain Butler from being the real killer's next victim, Sergeant." replied Harm tersely as he holstered his pistol. "We were too late."

"Captain Butler's dead? And what do you mean by real killer?"

As the head MP tried to make sense of this latest twist in events, a lone RPG gunner sighted on the AMTRAC and the command/control vehicles of the MEU in the front courtyard. An MP Corporal standing near Harm spotted the man.

RPG GUNNER! TWO O'CLOCK!

The guns of the AAV swiveled toward the doomed man as he mouthed a misguided prayer to Allah for success, and fired the rocket.

Everyone dove for cover except for Nick Hazon who moved a fraction of a second too slow. His movements were lost as the rocket propelled grenade, thrown off course as the  
>gunner fired with his dying breath, drilled into the MEU's Air Defense Control HMMWV. The resulting explosion tore apart the Air Defense Forward Control vehicle and trailer, the Signal Intelligence Technical Control and Analysis Center Hum-vee and the Joint Tactical Information Distribution System JTIDS HMMWV.<p>

In a matter of seconds, the 36th MEU's modern offensive and defensive support communications had been reduced to flaming junk.

Flying debris scythed into the still standing Corpsman.

"CORPSMAN!" screamed Mac.

Harm watched in horror as the badly wounded man staggered and then pitched face first into the dirt. Flames leaped from the shattered HMMWVs and threatened to engulf the  
>AAV-7A1.<p>

The carrier growled to life and rattled forward of the debris area, careful not to run over the writhing Corpsman.

Harm was the first to reach him followed by Mac, Sturgis and Bud. The former Top Gun quickly assessed the grave injuries of Nick Hazon and did his best to stop the man's  
>bleeding. Without speaking, Mac worked in tandem with him to stanch the flow of Hazon's blood.<p>

Determining it was best to stop the bleeding as quickly as possible, Harm nodded in silent agreement as Mac fashioned a makeshift tourniquet for Nick Hazon's missing leg. Bud helped her get the bandage wrapped as tightly as possible around the grievous wound.

Sturgis winced as he saw the young Lieutenant gently handle the bloody bandage. He knew that Bud, seeing this kind of injury in light of his own leg being severed by a mine blast in Afghanistan, was facing a frightening nightmare come true. The former submariner was proud of the way Bud Roberts put aside his own fear and horror to help the badly injured Corpsman.

Still, the lawyer knew that despite his friends' heroic efforts that Nick Hazon needed help quickly if he was going to live.

Sturgis bellowed to the MPs still hugging the dirt. "GET A CORPSMAN OVER HERE ASAP! WE GOT A MAN DOWN!"

**JAG Headquarters**

**AJ Chegwidden looked at his wristwatch and laughed mirthlessly**. The Commander may be a team player, but he'd still be late to his own funeral.

As the Admiral completed that thought, his phone buzzed. "Yes Coates?"

"Sir, it's Commander Rabb in Mirbullah."

A smirk formed on the man's lips as he thought about what kind of excuse the errant Commander would use on him this time. "Put him through."

The line clicked, followed by labored breathing. It sounded like a stereotypical heavy breather on the line. "Rabb!" he snapped, "Is that you?!"

"Sorry…Admiral," replied Harm, continuing to breathe hard, "Catching my breath…."

"From what Commander?" replied AJ smiling "From running and trying to get to the phone to make your report before 1600?"

"1600?" Harm sounded genuinely confused. "Admiral, I'm sorry Sir, with all that's been going on I forgot all about-"

"With all that's been going on Commander?" repeated AJ, his face darkening.

"Yes sir," replied the naval aviator/lawyer quickly, "Riots broke out in Al Nasiriyah and Mirbullah just about forty five minutes ago. There's also been another murder-" Admiral Chegwidden shot out of his chair.

AJ felt a chill run up his spine. "Commander, tell me you're joking."

But the man didn't have any words of comfort for the Judge Advocate General. "I wish I could Admiral." Harm sounded tired, possibly wounded? AJ's pulse quickened.

"Commander, are you all right? What about the rest of your team?"

"I'm okay sir, in fact, we're all okay." The Admiral breathed a sigh of relief at not having to tell Harriet Sims again that her husband had been injured on a battlefield.

"But we lost a potential eyewitness and another was gravely injured by an explosion."

AJ had not noticed, but Harriet had quietly made her way into the room. Her face was chalky white as she tightly gripped the papers in her hands. She listened intently and studied the Admiral's body language as he listened on the phone.

"How bad is it Commander?" he asked tonelessly. The small gasp that escaped Harriet made the Admiral whirl around to face her. His face was equal parts anger and anguish.

"Lieutenant!"

Harm looked at his cell phone "Sir?"

"I-I was bringing the morning docket reports," she stammered, her doe like eyes threatening to spill tears. "You didn't answer when I knocked, so Coates said it was all right-"

"He's all right, Lieutenant." said AJ, trying to reassure the IGO liaison.

Harm's voice sounded stricken. "Sir? Is that Harriet? Harriet? Bud's okay, hold on, I'll put him on…."

AJ ushered the pregnant woman over to the telephone at his desk, and helped her sit down.

"Bud?" she whispered, her voice thick with worry.

"Honey?" said Bud alarmed, "Are you all right? Is the baby-?"

"The baby is fine, sweetie," said Harriet quickly, reassuring her worried husband. Her tone grew concerned again. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine honey; it's been crazy over here-"

"Oh Bud," she began to cry. AJ looking alarmed moved toward her. She looked up at the Admiral and smiled. "He's okay Sir."

AJ stopped, not sure what to do next. But, as a superior officer, he had to say something.

"The Commander wouldn't let anything happen to your husband, Harriet."

She smiled, tears continuing to run down her cheeks "I know that Sir; I'm sorry, I'm such a blubbering mess."

"It's okay Harriet," said AJ gently, "Pregnant women are entitled, and especially those whose husbands are in combat zones."

"Thank God Sir." The pregnant woman suddenly realized what she had just said to the shocked Judge Advocate General. "Oh, Sorry Sir. I didn't mean it that way, really."

Not quite recovered, AJ tried to reassure the mortified Lieutenant. "It's quite all right Lieutenant, it's to be expected and is understandable given the circumstances."

He sounded as if he didn't quite believe that himself.

**-TBC…**


	22. Chapter 21

**Chapter XXI - …For Meritorious Service**

**Harriet though had recovered some of her composure**. "Thank you, sir." She handed the phone back to the Admiral, lifted herself from his chair walked back out to Tiner's desk.

AJ watched her for a moment and turned his attention back to the matter at hand. "Bud, put the Colonel on the line." The line clicked as the phone was handed off.

"Yes sir." came back Colonel MacKenzie's crisp voice.

AJ needed an assessment of the situation. Now. "Colonel? How bad was it?"

"Bad Sir. An RPG killed our one solid eyewitness in this case when it hit his tanker truck."

AJ forced himself not to think about the man's death and the implications it would have on the case. This simple friendly fire case was turning into something far more sinister than he first guessed. "What about the other witness that the Commander mentioned?"

"Corpsman Nicholas Hazon, Sir. He's gravely wounded; I doubt he'll be able to testify."

AJ winced at this incredibly bad luck and the timing of it. It seemed even fate was against saving Lukens and Buell from a possible death sentence. Still, there was a small chance.

With Rabb and MacKenzie there, they still might be able to pull off a credible defense. But what disturbed him the most was that Ashton Briggs seemed to be sitting in the middle of this swirling hurricane of chaos. A Colonel of an MEU has a lot of power – especially one involved in black ops – could it be that he's manipulating the situation to get things to go as he wants? _He's always stated he thought those Cobra pilots were guilty…._ AJ put those disturbing thoughts aside for now so he could concentrate on the business at hand.

"Is Rabb still nearby?"

"Yes Sir, he's standing right here by me."

AJ smiled at that comment. _Always by her side, but they fight like cats and dogs – will they ever get it right? Well, when they get back, Rabb better have an answer for me._ "Put him on again." The line clicked again as Mac passed the phone back to Harm.

"Commander?"

"Yes Sir." came back Harm's voice.

"Commander, I'm sending you someone that will give the evidence that you've gathered a fair hearing and trial if necessary."

"Who's being sent sir?"

"Admiral Morris is sending Colonel Blakely. He should be arriving there very soon."

"Colonel Blakely Sir?" said Harm, the surprise was obvious in his voice. "As in Judge Blakely?"

"The very same, Commander." the Admiral could not resist the friendly jab that the Commander's response called for. "I trust despite being in a war zone that you won't be shooting off any guns in his courtroom."

Harm could hear the smile in the Admiral's voice. His comment had the desired effect on Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. as he remembered firing that Heckler&Koch MP5(N) in Admiral Morris' courtroom.

"Never entered my mind Admiral," said Harm stoically.

AJ smiled, letting this temporary diversion put a lid on his darker thoughts for now. "Good, let's hope that continues to be the case. Put the Colonel back on the line."

As he waited for her to speak, he put on his Admiral face again. "Colonel?" he said brusquely.

"Yes Admiral?" Mac's voice seemed somewhat unnerved.

A smirk started to break through the tough demeanor he was trying to pass off. "Make sure the Commander doesn't change his mind about using guns in the courtroom to prove his point. Blakely may not be as forgiving as Admiral Morris was."

Mac smiled and looked over at her embarrassed partner, "I'll do my best Sir."

AJ smiled again. "Good Colonel, keep me informed. Carry on."

"Aye, aye, Sir." came back the automatic reply. The connection with Mirbullah was ended.

As Admiral Chegwidden started to put his telephone receiver down, his phone buzzed. "Yes Coates?"

"It's Lieutenant Sims Sir. Petty Officer Coates went down the hall for a moment."

The Admiral was momentarily distracted, but then seized the initiative again. "Has she found Givers yet?"

"Not yet Sir. Admiral, Secretary Sheffield is on line two. He wants to speak with you ASAP."

He inwardly groaned at what the man might want now. He had a pretty good idea it was about what was going on in Mirbullah. It seemed the guy had an ear in every trouble spot. "Put him through Lieutenant, and tell Coates to find Givers ASAP."

"Aye Sir," replied the blond haired pregnant IGO Liaison.

**xxxxixx**

**Harm and Mac stood back as Nick thrashed back and forth**, fighting the two medical soldiers who had just arrived. They worked feverishly to clean his grievous wounds, wiping away the embedded gravel and dirt.

"Saddiyah?!" Nick's wild eyes betrayed his delirium. He fell back, moaning as the first solider tried to set his shattered arm. Then like a man possessed, Nick began struggling again against his two rescuers. "Saddiyah! Where are you?!"

Mac looked to Harm, puzzlement fill her delicate features. "His girlfriend?"

"A little girl he made friends with." Harm quietly explained. "She was with him when I first found the Corpsman."

Mac nodded and moved over to the two Corpsmen. The one trying to hold Nick down looked up at her.

Without a word being said between the two, the Corpsman moved over and Mac kneeled down and shifted Nick's head into her lap.

"Saddiyah's okay," Mac gently reassured the gravely injured man. "We're taking care of her, she's all right."

Nick settled down as Mac continued to talk quietly to him. She was reminded of holding Webb after he was tortured and Dalton when he was dying. She drove those unsettling thoughts from her mind, concentrating on the task at hand-comforting this man who was possibly dying.

Harm stood back and watched as Nick Hazon seemed to relax in Mac's arms, allowing the medics to set his broken arm and tend to his leg.

"She seems to have a calming effect on him sir," replied Bud quietly.

"Yeah, she does…." said Harm distractedly.

"You okay buddy?" Sturgis was worried his academy roommate had suffered some injury they did not notice before.

Harm continued looking at Mac as she comforted Hazon. Slowly, his mind finally was making sense of what he had seen in Paraguay. "I'm fine Sturgis, fine…."

The Preacher's son seemed unconvinced. "Uh huh, sure you are. Come on buddy, let's go see if the medics can give *you* an examination."

Harm started to object when Captain Lewis and PFC Secord drove up.

"Dammit!" swore Lewis as took in the images of the burning HMMWVs and the badly injured Hazon. "What the hell happened?!" He jumped down from the passenger seat of his Hum-vee, and pinned the head MP with a fierce look.

"We fought off an attack by the insurgents Captain," the Sergeant quickly explained. "And-"

"This is the way you fight them off?!" growled Lewis, his eyes blazing. "By getting the unit's command and control vehicles blown all to hell?! And why were they here in the first place?!"

"Somebody sent orders for them to be moved here in preparation for Major Denton's sweep Sir." replied the MP Sergeant weakly.

Denton?! Son, Major Denton is on sick call with a toothache!" Lewis move menacingly close to the military police Sergeant. "Now you listen to me soldier, and listen good! Find out who the hell that `somebody' was! I WANT A NAME! AND I WANT IT TODAY! OR *YOUR ASS* IS GOING TO BE ON FIRST PLANE TO LEAVENWORTH!"

"AYE, AYE, SIR!" yelled back the frightened MP. He grabbed a stunned Corporal and the both disappeared into the detention facility.

Adam Secord reached out to the steamed Captain. "Sir, take it easy—"

"EASY?! YOU WANT ME TO TAKE IT EASY?!" Jac Lewis saw the shocked look on Secord's face and the stunned looks of the other soldiers and the JAG Corps officers. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. When he continued, his voice was lower, but just as intense.

"Private, in case you didn't notice, we have about a couple of million dollars' worth of state of the art communication equipment glowing in that bonfire in front of us! Briggs is going to have all our heads on pikes for this screw-up!"

Harm walked over to the two men. "Captain, it's obvious that someone with a lot of power is pulling the strings here."

Jac glowered at the JAG Corps lawyer. "Okay tell me JAG lawyer, what are you talking about? I mean, do you really think we got something sinister going on here? Should we be looking for a Phantom of the MEU?"

Harm matched his hard stare. "I never said that, Captain." Sturgis Turner joined his academy buddy in pinning the man with a penetrating stare. For the first time, Jac's scowl faltered.

Harm folded his arms across his chest. "But I do think that someone high up in this unit is getting rid of people that may be able to help Lieutenants Lukens and Buell."

Jac smirked at the naval Commander's supposition. "You really believe that Commander?"

Mac looked up at the Captain. "We have one badly wounded Corpsman, a dead Captain from logistics." Her brown eyes locked onto his shifting green ones. "This may be the results of the riots, but it seems like too much of a coincidence that those injured or killed seem to be crucial to this case."

"Well since it seems everyone in this unit has a stake in what will happen to Lukens and Buell, I'm not surprised." Bud noted that Jac Lewis did not flinch at Mac's barely concealed accusation.

"Besides, you can add two of the guys who thought they were guilty to the list of dead."

Bud Roberts was intrigued by this new information. "Who Captain?"

Lewis ignored the senior officers and spoke directly to the Lieutenant. "Sergeant Paul Colwell and Corporal Seth Grearson."

Harm's stern look transformed. "When?"

Jac turned to the Commander. "The Corporal was shot by a sniper about fifteen minutes ago. The Sergeant was killed just a few moments ago by same sniper in a foiled escape attempt."

Harm, Sturgis, and Mac exchanged astonished looks. Either this was just the normal consequence of engaging the enemy, or a clever someone was engaged in equal witness subtraction.

Captain Lewis rolled his eyes at these three amateur detectives. "Look, I'd love to stand here and exchange conspiracy theories with you JAGs," he said dryly and with barely concealed contempt, "But I've got a company to rally and even more fun than that, I have to let the Colonel know that the communication abilities of his MEU have just been sent back to the 1970s. So with your permission, I'll be on my way."

Without waiting for dismissal, the Captain turned and left the JAG Corps lawyers with their suspicions. He grabbed Secord as he left the speechless lawyers and shoved him toward the idling Hum-vee. It was obvious at this point he really didn't care what the JAG Corps attorneys thought about him or his comments. Given the circumstances and task before the Captain, all three senior attorneys didn't think dressing down the Captain would do any good.

**0941 Local_1341 Zulu  
>JAG Headquarters<br>Falls Church, Virginia**

**Sergeant Marla Givers walked into the bullpen virtually unnoticed**. That was one of the good things about being a noncommissioned officer in the JAG Corps, and unfortunately one of the bad things. When one of the officers entered the office, Harriet Sims, Jason Tiner or one of the other junior officers would greet them. Not the case with noncommissioned folks. They were the grunts of the JAG Corps.

Sighing at the irony, she sat down at her desk and turned on her workstation. While waiting for it to warm up, she glanced over toward conference room number one. The door was wide open. Usually at this hour of the morning, it was closed. Inside would be the attorneys and Admiral Chegwidden. Occasionally Harriet and or Jason would attend. At these meetings, the Admiral would hand out the newest cases and discuss the latest news.

The junior and noncommissioned officers had their own version of this meeting. According to Jennifer Coates, this meeting of the less senior staff used to be lead by Gunnery Sergeant Galindez. When the Gunny went back to combat duty, either Jason Tiner or Harriet Sims would chair these meetings depending on which one was not attending the senior staff meeting.

Sometimes, in the recent past, all the non-officers would gather and gossip about what was going on, at least that's what Jason told her, but since Marla arrived, those sessions had been few and far between. That probably had to do with what was going on in Iraq.

Iraq, it still gave her chills. She remembered when she volunteered for the combat force that was tasked with rescuing that U.S. Army Maintenance Unit, the 507th. Task Force Tarawa, as the Marine force was called, didn't expect the resistance they found and Marla herself had had several close calls. Although she didn't mind mentioning she had been there, if anybody really wanted to know more, like most Marines who fought there, she would sidestep the issue or change the subject.

"Hey Sergeant," She looked up and saw Jason and Jen walking in through the double doors to the bullpen. Both were carrying a large box. "Is the Admiral back yet?"

She looked over at Harriet who shrugged helplessly. She turned back to them. "No, not yet."

She sat back down at her terminal. Marla was curious about what was happening, but she decided it was better to go ahead and get her day started.

Marla ignored the rest of the conversation as she started typing in her username and password. She felt that funny sensation in the pit of her stomach she had felt the first time she had met Jason Tiner. _Get hold of yourself Jarhead,_ she admonished herself, trying to reign in her predatory feelings. After all, she was a Sergeant and he was the equivalent of a Staff Sergeant. Not to mention, it seemed like Jen had a thing for him. _Wonder how serious it is? Belay that thought Marine…_. Wrapped up in this internal argument, she didn't hear Jason Tiner trying to get her attention.

"Sergeant Givers!"

"Huh?!" She answered stupidly, "Oh sorry Petty Officer," she smiled briefly at the concerned look on his face, "I've got my mind on other things this morning."

Jen came over to her desk and sat on its edge next to her. "Well, be prepared for your first dressing down by the Admiral. He was really ticked off that we stayed overnight at Lejune rather than coming back."

Marla swallowed audibly. "How pissed was he?"

Harriet walked over to her desk. "If I were you, I'd plead extreme stupidity; it's your best defense." She looked at the others; they all nodded their heads in agreement.

Marla turned to Jennifer Coates. "What'd he do to you?"

Jen made a sick looking face. "Let's just say that KP and latrine duty in JAG Headquarters isn't the most pleasant experience in the world."

"Great." she grumbled. She looked over at his office door. "Where is he now?"

"The Pentagon, the SecNav summoned him over just after 8:30." He noticed her concerned look.

"Things in Mirbullah have taken a turn for the worse."

"How bad is it?" The Sergeant asked.

Harriet walked back to the center of the bullpen and picked up the monitor remote from the administrative assistant's desk and raised the sound on the middle monitor, where a ZNN reporter sitting at a desk with a silhouette of Iraq behind him was making a report.

"…In other news, the situation in Al Nasiriyah continues to deteriorate after sporadic clashes between Coalition forces and Fedayeen guerillas that began less than an hour ago. There are reports that heavy fighting is spreading northwest of the city."

Major Carly Clemons walked in the doorway and stood behind Marla who was looking up intently at the screen. "Northwest, isn't that where Mirbullah is located?"

"No Ma'am," she replied not bothering to turn around. "Mirbullah is northeast of Al Nasiriyah." Marla hoped her correction would quiet the Major. She had been needling the Lieutenant ever since that first day she walked into JAG Headquarters. Marla also wondered if Harriet Sims was worried about her husband given this ominous turn of  
>events.<p>

**1624 Local_1324 Zulu  
>Mirbullah Police Station<br>Mirbullah, Iraq  
><strong>  
><strong>Captain Johnson looked around at the covered bodies and heaved a labored sigh<strong>. Two Privates were helping some of the surviving Iraqi policemen move the bodies away from their chalk outlines.

Major Barnett pulled another canvas sheet over the sightless eyes of a young Iraqi woman. He had seen her the day before giving water to some of the soldiers as she stood on the side of the highway. He remembered she had a beautiful smile. He couldn't even bring himself to close her eyes. _What happened here today was madness…_.

As the two MEU legal officers started back toward the front of the station, the JAG Corps officers came in through the shattered front doors. An Iraqi ICDC trooper brushed past them, dragging the body of comrade out into the debris filled front courtyard. Barnett looked up at them as they stood trancelike, looking at the damage.

"Colonel, you and the Commander were right in moving the Lieutenant and the Chief Warrant Officer," said the Major getting up from the sheet he had just laid on top of the woman.

"The survivors indicate the gunmen that attacked were looking for them."

"Did anybody see what they looked like?" asked Sturgis. He was momentarily distracted by the body of a seaman being carried outside.

"No one that survived," replied Captain Johnson. "Although one policeman did hear them arguing in Arabic as they ransacked the jail cells."

"Did they kill all the prisoners?" inquired Bud. He was trying to keep a stoic, professional demeanor, but seeing all this blood and all these bodies was making him queasy.

Mac and Harm were not doing much better. They both had seen combat casualties before, but nothing like this.

Major Barnett looked around at the carnage. "That's the strange thing. They killed some and didn't kill others – it seems completely random."

Mac watched another body being brought from the cells. "Were all the Americans killed?"

Captain Johnson shook his head. "No Ma'am, like the Major said, completely random. No pattern to it at all."

Harm tried his best to focus on the task at hand. "Major you said one of the policemen heard the rioters arguing. Where is he now?"

"He's outside in the courtyard helping to organize a defensive line in case the gunmen come back." He motioned to the JAG Corps officers. "Follow me."

Mac looked toward the cells. "Harm, Bud and I are going into the cells and see if we can find anything that might tell us who did this."

"I'll go with them Sir," replied Johnson. The Major nodded his assent.

**xxxxixx**

**The cells stunk of cordite, blood, excrement, vomit, and disinfectant**. Already the policemen and MEU soldiers were trying their best to clean up the worst of the mess without compromising the crime scene. Mac swallowed the bile in her throat that was threatening to spew out.

"What do you want to see, Colonel?" asked Johnson as they moved down the blood and bullet spattered hallway.

Mac's sharp eyes spotted the words scrawled on the floor. "Captain," Mac said causing the MEU legal aide to stop. "Who was in here?"

"That was Corporal Bennington's cell."

"What was he in here for?" asked Bud surveying the chalk outlines that indicated at least two people had been killed in this cell.

"Stealing his senior officer's personal motorbike and taking it for a joyride in the countryside." said Johnson squatting down next to Bennington's chalk outline and examining it more closely. "Nothing major. He probably would have gotten off easy had he lived." He noticed that the lady lawyer, also squatting, was looking at words scrawled in blood on the floor next to the outline. "You find something Colonel?"

Bud moved closer to Colonel MacKenzie. "Ma'am?"

Mac looked up for a moment at Johnson. "Has anyone been cleaning here yet Captain?"

Floyd Johnson shook his head. "No Ma'am, not that I'm aware of. What did you find?"

Bud spelled out the letters written in sloppy script as he entered them into his PDA.

"C…O…L…W…E…L…L…. D…A…R…C?" He exchanged a curious look with the Colonel. "Colwell? As in Sergeant Colwell? And the last group, it's initials. Right Ma'am?"

Mac nodded. She looked at the other words. "Might be part of a name, Bud." She pointed to one letter that was separated from the rest. "See? This letter is not part of the first word. Looks like the Corporal knew who his killers were and was trying to leave a message."

Bud took out his camera phone and made a quick picture of the words. He repeated the letters that were now stored in his PDA "D-A-R-C. Ma'am that doesn't make any sense."

"It does Bud if you make the C into an L."

Bud's eyes widened at her observation. "D-A-R…L?"

"The beginning of a last name." She looked over at Johnson who was intently studying the letters. "Do these mean anything to you?"

"Well, Colwell is pretty easy. That has to be the Sergeant. Dar could be an abbreviation of a name, or it could have been all that he had time to spell out." surmised the Captain.

Bud nodded. "But he did get the first letter of the last name out, so we have DAR…L."

"Well that certainly narrows it down." grumbled Floyd Johnson, "Colonel, we only have about 100 people in this unit begin their names with D-A-R."

"And if you add the C or L as a last name?"

"That narrows it down to about 50."

She looked at Bud. "Then it looks like we have 50 murder suspects to interview."

Johnson grimaced. "Colonel, how do you know that Dar is someone from the MEU? There are about 100 Iraqi citizens that could have this name as well."

She bit her lower lip and heaved a sigh. "Then I guess we have our work cut out for us."

**xxxxixx**

**Harm and Sturgis were out in the courtyard**. Firefighters had arrived and were trying to douse the flames rising from burning HMMWVs and Iraqi police cars that had been parked in the courtyard. They watched as the blue-shirted policemen stacked the dead in one corner of the courtyard. Barnett pointed to a group of Iraqi police officers moving yet another body to the growing pile.

"Patrolman Ibrahim?" A swarthy Iraqi police officer looked over at Harmon Rabb. He exchanged a quick look with his fellow officers and then walked over to the Commander.

"Yes?"

Harm started the interview. "Commander Harmon Rabb, this is Commander Sturgis Turner, we're from the Judge Advocate General's Corps."

Ibrahim's face was etched with surprise. "So quickly you Americans begin investigating."

Sturgis wanted him to know why they were actually here. "Actually we're here on another case but we think this incident might have something to do with ours."

At that comment the Iraqi policeman's stunned look was replaced by a more pensive one.

Harm continued the questioning. "Patrolman, Major Barnett told us you heard the gunmen arguing as they made their way through the station."

"I was down behind some file cabinets." The man quickly explained, "They did not know I was there."

The preacher's son tried to be sympathetic to the man's experience. "You say you heard them arguing, what were they arguing about?"

"They were looking for someone." Ibrahim looked from Harm to Sturgis, "Someone that was supposed to be in the jail that they could not find." The two Commanders exchanged a look.

**-TBC…**


	23. Chapter 22

**Chapter XXII - …For Meritorious Service **

**Barnett jumped in at this point**. "Did they say a name? A rank?"

Harm noticed the man visibly moved back from the Major. "No, no, I heard no mention of name or rank…just that they were looking for someone."

Harm knew they were onto something. "Patrolman, were they looking for more than one person, possibly two?"

Ibrahim's eyes darted from the Major to the Commander. "Yes, they were searching for two."

"Did you notice anything else?" added Sturgis Turner.

Ibrahim shook his head, "No, I kept very still. I did not want to be killed. I did not see them at all." He looked at Sturgis with pleading eyes. "I have a pregnant wife and small child…surely you understand."

The former Submariner's voice grew cold. "I understand that someone committed a murder this afternoon and tried to cover it up by killing several other people, including several of your fellow officers."

Ibrahim deflated at that. "I cannot say anymore."

"We can force you to testify in court." warned the aviator/lawyer.

"That will not be necessary." The three soldiers and the police officer looked up to see an injured officer making his way toward them.

"I saw the gunmen and yes, they were looking for two people." He introduced himself to the JAG lawyers. "I am Patrol Officer Haskim al-Surah."

Harm shook the man's hand. "Thank you Officer al-Surah, we appreciate you coming forward."

"I do this because I am a single man and an orphan, Commander Rabb." replied al-Surah. "No one will have to mourn my loss if I am killed."

**1640 Bravo [Atlantic]  
>Over the Atlantic<br>**  
><strong>Colonel Clifford Blakely shifted in his seat<strong> trying to find a comfortable spot. His last trip in a transport plane was almost three years ago and he sure hoped this transport had passed a recent inspection. Military flights were always so much fun. Trying to take his mind off the jolting, bucking flight, he opened up his briefcase and pulled out two thick folders.

The first one was the report on Lieutenant Dodge's death and the subsequent arrest of the Cobra helo crew, 1st Lieutenant Benjamin Lukens and 2nd Lieutenant Frederick Buell.

The second folder contained a report purportedly from then Lieutenant Commander Tracy Manetti on the readiness of JAG Corps.

He decided to start with that report first. Admiral Morris had made a point of making sure he read it first. As he opened the folder, he noticed the memos from SecNav Edward Sheffield and the Judge Advocate General. This was not Manetti's report, but Commander Theodore Lindsey's original report to the SecNav. The memos explained the falsified report was being used to give the JAG Corps officers a `cover story' for their unusual behavior while in Mirbullah. The Admiral suspected there was more to this case than they had been lead to believe and in order to throw off anyone who might suspect the attorneys were doing more than investigating a friendly fire incident, they decided to use Lindsey's report to indicate that the attorneys were loose cannons-not trusted by their commanding officer. Chegwidden ended his memo by stating he suspected that all reports relating to the JAG would be of interest to someone in that MEU and he fully suspected that someone already had access to them. Thus the planted report – to protect the attorneys and keep the bad guys guessing.

The bumping and jerking of the plane was forgotten as Blakely read the incredible story behind this falsified report. _This is going to make for some wild courtroom antics - even by Rabb and MacKenzie standards, _he thought as he paged through the report. He remembered when Commander Lindsey had originally written his version of this report in retaliation for not getting his promotion.

"Unsupervised TAD in the Afghanistan countryside, liaison from the Inspector General's Office married to one of the junior officers who is shown favoritism by the JAG despite his debilitating injuries, a former submarine officer with a lack of experience needed for the office…." Blakely shook his head as he continued reading. Lindsey had to have some help putting this together. It was not too hard to figure out where he got his information from.

"Lieutenant Singer," he remarked quietly "Was being JAG that important to you?"

**Camp Chesty Puller  
>Near Mirbullah, Iraq<br>**  
><strong>xxxxiixx~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~xxxxiixx<strong>

_Mac could see a dark figure in the distance_. No features of the face could be seen, only shadows. She watched as the bodies of the dead witnesses appeared wherever it walked. She tried to get closer. But every time she did, it moved further away. Now she saw Bud and Sturgis lying dead on the ground, their sightless eyes looking up at the sky. Neither one had a mark on them. She looked up to see the shadow figure moving toward a large vehicle, though through the smoke and the dust she could barely make it out.

Then, as if a wind had whipped away a screen, she could see it all. Mac was standing in the middle of a battlefield. The bodies of dead Marines were all around her. None of them had any marks on their bodies, but she knew they were dead. The growl of a diesel engine caught her attention. She looked around to see a Soviet built eight-wheeled missile launching vehicle pass by the dead Marines and JAG Corps officers.

_Good job MacKenzie_, said a disembodied voice. She immediately knew it was the shadow figure.

Suddenly a female Marine carrying a sniper rifle grabbed her arm, startling her.

_Ma'am? Who's that? _She pointed to the F-14 fighter streaking across the sky.

_Oh God_, Mac breathed, but her voice seemed to come out in slow motion.

The shadow figure pointed to the plane and it disintegrated. As it spiraled toward the ground,

Mac heard familiar voices.

_Missiles inbound..._

Brace for impact...

Eject! Eject! Eject!

Then she saw it, Harm's lifeless body on the ground.

OH DEAR GOD!

**xxxxiixx~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~xxxxiixx**

**Something compelled Sarah MacKenzie to launch herself** out of her bed. As she sat up, her sweat-soaked body crashed into a masculine chest. Mac immediately began struggling with the figure in front of her.

"Mac! Wake up! Mac! MAC!"

Her eyes fluttered open to see Harmon Rabb, Jr. dressed in his BDUs sitting on the edge of her bed. Her breath was coming out in short gasps. He held both of her wrists, which were dangerously close to his face. Harm's blue eyes were flooded with concern. "Mac, take it easy, it's all right. Power down, Marine."

Harm had first entered her quarters a few minutes ago. Again, a strong sensation had drawn him to Mac's building, just like it had ever since they arrived in Iraq. Last time it was the smell of electrical smoke; this time it was a blossom of flame he had seen in the window of the building where she was sleeping.

Mac took a deep breath and slowly let it out. A twinge in her back caused her breath to hitch. Harm immediately noticed and quickly let go of her wrists. "Mac, are you okay?"

"Harm?" was the first coherent words that escaped her mouth. "What are you doing here?"

"Something disturbed my sleep, Sarah." It was rare when Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. used Mac's first name rather than her nickname. The tremor in his voice and the look on his face made it apparent he was upset as well.

Her eyes softened at hearing her given name. "Oh God, Harm, I'm going insane." She pulled him into a crushing embrace.

Startled, the former Top Gun returned the embrace and rubbed her back trying to calm her.

"Mac," he murmured into her silky hair trying to calm her, "You're not going insane."

The top of her head tingled as his warm breath wove its way through her hair to her scalp. She loved him doing that. It also gave her the courage to say what was bothering her. "I am," she choked out quietly, "I keep seeing nightmarish images-"

"What kind of images?" he asked softly.

"People, dead and dying," Mac said with a tremor in her voice. "I-I see your death Harm." He pulled back from her embrace for a moment. "You're flying and you get shot down and killed, Harm." He needed to understand. "I couldn't live with myself if that happened." She hoped that this sunk in and more importantly, why she felt this way.

A lot had changed in their relationship. No longer were they just two friends, Flyboy and Ninja Girl. They were taking those first tentative steps toward something more, and Sarah MacKenzie did not want to lose him now.

Not knowing what else to do, he embraced her again and chuckled softly. "Sarah, that's *not* going to happen. I won't let it."

This time she pulled out the embrace. Her large brown eyes focused on his tousled hair, stubble covered face, and partially open shirt revealing his olive drab tank top. His dog tags glinted as they swung back and forth catching bits of light from the outside. Coupled with the frightening images of her dream, it took all of her self-control not seek comfort in his arms. "Harm, you know about my visions."

Yes he did. The idea she could be seeing the future made alarms go off in his head.

However, he didn't want her to know that. She was upset enough as it was. "I know that your visions don't always mean what you think they do." he offered chuckling again, trying to get her to stop talking like this. He didn't want to sound patronizing, but knew it might come across that way. Still, he didn't know what else to do.

Deep down it was scaring him. She was so intense, so insistent…like…like_…a worried wife… _the thought floated through his brain and he found himself liking the sound of that.

This wasn't just Mac worried about the Flyboy doing something stupid. This was Sarah worried about her man and losing him. Maybe this has been the case all along when she worried about him flying. Why didn't I see that before? He thought, mentally cursing his hard headedness that had not allowed him to see this previously.

She grabbed him again, holding onto him like a life preserver. "Just hold me, Harm." She looked up into his eyes. "Please." Harm felt every curve and the warmth of Sarah as she leaned into him. It clouded his brain and sent sensations through Harmon Rabb, Jr. that made him glad he finally had blurted out that he loved her.

His mind was overwhelmed by the nearness of her feminine body, her scent, and the way she fit against him. Harm couldn't speak, only nod silently and hold his tough Marine as requested.

Whatever these visions were, they had clearly unnerved her. He sensed that even before he sat down on her bed and watched her struggle with her midnight demons. They had to get this case over with soon and get her out of here.

She slowly pulled herself back into his loving embrace unwilling to leave it. She tilted her head to look up at him. Her eyes were aflame with something other than friendship.

It was then she heard the beating of the rotors in the distant night air. The noise penetrated her sexual fog. Immediately she reverted to her Marine training, as Colonel MacKenzie listened to the thumping of the heavy rotors getting closer.

"Mac?" Harm was finally able to get out, as the percussions cleared his head.

"I hear it too. Sounds like someone's coming."

**xxxxiixx**

**The Super Stallion helicopter landed** on the compacted dirt and sand of the make-shift landing strip. Sitting as it did on the ground and flashing its various landing lights, it looked like some huge prehistoric bug.

The ramp on the craft opened and Colonel Clifford Blakely stepped out into the Stygian gloom that was briefly lit into snippets of desert, as the strobe lights bounced off the desert floor.

The Marine Colonel shielded his face as he walked, hunkered down, away from the troop carrying helo, to the safety of the nearby revetments. He noticed there were at least four people waiting for him.  
>As he got closer, he recognized the female Lieutenant Colonel and the three other men. <em>Looks like Admiral Chegwidden pulled out all the stops for this investigation; he's got Rabb, MacKenzie, Turner and Roberts over here on the same case. If the brief I read is correct, I guess I should try to fit into this cover story….<em> Blakely squared his shoulders and walked over to the four attorneys. As he did, the Stallion powered up again and lifted off into the inky dark, pre-dawn sky.

The JAG Corps officers saluted him, and he returned their salute. "Commander Rabb, I take it you and Commander Turner are the lead attorneys on this hearing?"

"Yes Sir," replied Harm. "Colonel MacKenzie is sitting second chair on the defense, and Lieutenant Roberts will sit second chair on the prosecution."

The JAG Judge turned to Mac. "Colonel, I thought you favored prosecution on these kinds of cases."

"I take whichever side Admiral Chegwidden says I should take, Colonel."

Despite his professional demeanor, Clifford Blakely could not help but notice how squared away the Marine was for this hour of the morning. Her soft feminine touches to her appearance also did not go unnoticed. "That is appreciated Colonel, that's one of the many things Admiral Morris likes about you. He said to tell you hello."

Mac was genuinely flattered. "Uh, thank you Sir and tell the Admiral thank you as well."

Harm immediately picked up on the change in her bearing.

"We'll be ready to present our opening statements in the morning, Sir." Sturgis was trying to steer the conversation back to business.

"Thank you Commander Turner." replied Blakely, "I'll see all of you tomorrow morning in court at 1000 hours."

All four saluted the Colonel. "Aye, aye Sir."

Blakely turned his attention to Harm. A thin smile creased his lips. "Commander Rabb," began Blakely, "Even though we are in a combat zone, I trust you'll refrain from shooting off any weapons in my courtroom?"

Harm looked sheepishly at the Marine Colonel. "Aye, Sir." Blakely nodded his satisfaction.

As the JAG Colonel headed towards his waiting HMMWV, he turned back to Mac. "Colonel, it's good to see you again. We miss you up in the Judiciary." He then hardened his voice again as he addressed all four. "Carry on."

Harm looked incredulously at Mac, who was now looking somewhat shyly at Blakely's retreating figure.

Bud leaned over to Sturgis and whispered into his ear. "Sir, did he just flirt with the Colonel?"

"Lieutenant I'm not so sure he was flirting as he was responding to her comments." Sturgis Turner said evenly.

Harm cast a sidelong glance at Mac. "Now what was that all about?"

Mac was caught flatfooted. "What was what all about?" she returned.

Harm turned to face her. "You know what I'm talking about Mac. The cute look you just gave Colonel Blakely."

Is this true jealously or is it part of our cover story? She decided on the latter. Her voice grew sharp and sarcastic. "What is it with you? Did you have a bowl of jealousy flakes this morning?"

Harm folded his arms across his chest. "Mac, I have eyes, you're acting like a flirtatious girlfriend."

She snorted and rolled her eyes in exasperation. "And you're the one acting like a jealous boyfriend. I didn't do anything wrong."

Harm decided to up the ante. "Oh of course I'm acting like a jealous boyfriend! Mac, I am the jealous boyfriend!"

She turned on her heel and stalked away. "I don't need this…." Harm looked to Bud and Sturgis for support. His friends just turned and walked away, leaving the Commander standing alone as several mechanics tried to make themselves look inconspicuous.

**1003 Local_0703 Zulu  
>36th MEU, BLT Headquarters<br>Near Mirbullah, Iraq**

**Sunday, 29 June 2003**

**Colonel Clifford Blakely and the bailiff** walked into the improvised courtroom in the BLT Headquarters. The bailiff entered first and stood at the front of the room. "All rise!" he barked.

All other members of the court, Harm and Mac for the defense, and Sturgis and Bud for the prosecution, stood as Colonel Clifford Blakely walked in and sat down at the bench. He looked at his notes and uncapped his pen, making a notation on the docket report for this case. He looked out at the prosecution and defense. Both sides seemed ready, almost eager to start. He wondered how long it would be before Mac objected to Harm's handling of the case.  
>"Shall we get started?"<p>

Former submariner Commander Sturgis Turner cleared his throat and stood, holding a sheet listing the charges and specifications and began speaking in a stentorian voice. "Docket number 5121219,VR-7. The United States versus 1st Lieutenant Benjamin F. Lukens and 2nd Lieutenant Fredrick P. Buell. Your honor, the prosecution seeks to prove that sufficient evidence exists to prove the following: violations of Article 118, Murder; Article 128, Assault with the intention to do grievous bodily harm with a loaded firearm; Article 133, Conduct unbecoming an officer and Article 99, Misbehavior before the enemy, as specified by the UCMJ."

Blakely looked from prosecution team to the defense counsel. "Defense?"

Aviator/lawyer Harm Rabb, Jr. stood and looked directly at the judge. "Your honor, the defense will prove beyond a shadow of doubt that the evidence presented by the prosecution against Lieutenants Lukens and Buell is baseless, and therefore sufficient evidence does not exist to warrant a General Court Martial."

Blakely made a notation in his report. He motioned to the court reporter. "We will adjourn until 1000 tomorrow at which time this court will reconvene and an Article 32 hearing will be held to determine if there is sufficient evidence to warrant a General Courts Martial. This courtroom is adjourned."

The bang of Judge Blakely's gavel sounded unusually loud in the room. Harm looked at his clients and Mac, and gave them a wry smile. "This was the easy part." He told Lukens and Buell. "It gets a lot tougher after this."

**-TBC…**


	24. Chapter 23

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 23

1137 Local

36th MEU, BLT Headquarters

Mirbullah, Iraq

Sunday, June 29, 2003

They were still in the makeshift courtroom where Blakely's gavel had banged not more than thirty minutes ago. Harm walked slowly toward the front and looked at Lieutenant Lukens sitting in the witness box. The aviator/lawyer sneered in disgust as he moved toward the man.

"Lieutenant would you have me believe that you did not aim that gun at Lieutenant Dodge?"

"Yes Sir…. I mean, no Sir…I…."

Harm dropped his sneer. "Lieutenant; you cannot waffle like that on the stand."

Ben Lukens looked at the floor, not sure how to answer the stern attorney "Sorry Sir, your question…it threw me…."

"That's exactly why I asked it Lieutenant." said Harm patiently. Lukens looked down at the floor chagrined; he had walked right into that one. Flying a helicopter gunship was easier than this. "Let's try this one again but remember…" The Cobra pilot followed his tall form as it moved back to his seat at the defense table.

"You cannot depend on every question being one you can easily answer."

"Yes Sir, I'll try to remember that…."

And so it went for the next hour, with Harm quizzing him on various aspects of the case. For his part, the Lieutenant did as well as could be expected. Then he stepped down and walked over to the defense table. Now it was his weapons officer's turn.

Buell walked toward the seat, looking nervously around the room. He didn't like this.

Mac kept her eyes focused on the young 2nd Lieutenant as he uneasily settled into the witness chair. "Don't look at him," Mac instructed, as she worked to keep the young man from watching his senior officer. "Keep your eyes moving naturally from me to court members to the Judge and back again, Lieutenant. Do not focus on just your commanding officer; it makes you look suspicious in the mind of the Judge."

"Yes Ma'am." came his polite reply. Buell turned to follow her, exclusively. Mac sighed, (_This is going to be harder than I thought….)_

Mac crossed over in front of the judge's bench and stopped right in front of him. It was not too hard to focus all his attention on her. (_Okay, let's see if he was listening to me….)_ "Lieutenant did you ever feel like you wanted to shoot at Lieutenant Dodge?"

"Objection, calls for a conclusion…." called out Harm.

"It's his conclusion, Commander," Mac pretended to be annoyed and focused her client. "But for your sake, I'll rephrase; Lieutenant Buell, did you ever get into arguments with Lieutenant Dodge?

"No Ma'am." he replied almost as quickly as she had asked the question.

"Pace yourself Lieutenant, give a pause before answering the question. She coached good-naturedly. (_C'mon Lieutenant, move your eyes around…)_ She hoped that he would begin to move his eyes around. He couldn't look like he was being manipulated he had to look natural.

"Yes Ma'am…." he said again. Mac almost groaned. She wished he wasn't so damn polite. The prosecution could take that and paint Buell as a sycophant.

She fired at him point blank. "Did you ever threaten him with physical violence?"

The Lieutenant paused this time. He looked at Harm and then out into the courtroom. A little longer than he should have, but then he spoke up just the way she hoped he would. "No." he said firmly. (_Good, now he's getting into it….)_

She decided to increase the tempo and tension. "Ever verbally abuse him?"

Buell paused again before answering, this time the right amount. He never wavered from looking at her, though. "No Ma'am. Never." (_Well at least he added the 'never' part….)_

Based on the smoothness of his answers, she determined it was time to up the ante a little bit more. (_Tension seems to be helping him get into this; maybe upping it a little more will help….)_ "Oh come on Lieutenant," she said haughtily as if she knew something different from what he was saying, "You mean to tell me you never verbally abused the deceased?"

Lieutenant Buell looked somewhat shocked and sickened at Mac's seemingly snide comment. "Uh, no Ma'am…I mean, yes Ma'am…" he tried to recover, realizing that he had blown it. "Ma'am I never…" he looked over at Ben Lukens and seemed to internally berate himself for doing it. He then quickly shifted his eyes from Harm to the courtroom to Mac and over to where the Judge would sit. "I never verbally abused the Lieutenant."

Mac tried upping the tension again hoping that the Lieutenant would pick up on what he should do. She pounced on him like a cat pounces on a new play toy. "Why did you look over there just now, Lieutenant?"

"Ma'am?" was his startled reply. His eyes shifted around the room in a panic mode.

_(C'mon Lieutenant, you did it before, you can do it again….)_

"I said, why did you look over there? Why did you look over at Lieutenant Lukens, Lieutenant?"

Lieutenant Buell began backpedaling furiously. "Well Ma'am I-"

The Marine attorney got into the rehearsal and poured it on, seemingly oblivious to Lieutenant Buell self-destructing before her. Even Harm was dumbstruck by her performance. "Could it be Lieutenant that you were making sure you got your story correct? Visual confirmation from your co-conspirator?"

That brought a choked reply from Lieutenant Buell. "Ma'am? No, that's not it at all I-"

Mac was now batting him around like an old rubber mouse. For Harm it was like watching a traffic accident. Too horrible to look at; too intriguing to look away. "Then what is it Lieutenant? Tell us, please."

He couldn't help himself. He looked back at the Lieutenant again. "We've been a team, the Lieutenant and I, for years-"

That was all the opening that the Marine JAG Corps officer needed to nail the distracted Lieutenant. "And you're afraid they'll break you two up, Lieutenant?"

Fred Buell's eyes went wide as he backpedaled again. "No Ma'am—yes Ma'am…."

"Well Lieutenant? Which is it?" she snapped, acting as if she was growing impatient with his stumbling.

Harm squirmed, wondering whether he needed to put a stop to this or not. Her technique might be helping Buell learn how to respond on the stand, or it might be a way for her to let out pent-up anger and frustration. The real problem was the aviator/lawyer could not tell at this point.

Buell's voice was trembling when he spoke. I don't know…Ma'am… I guess I am…afraid that…they will break us up."

"They'll do more than that Lieutenant," she said stone-faced, "Unless you give me a compelling reason right now-"

"I can't do this anymore Ma'am!" Lieutenant Buell said lashing out angrily. This had, in his mind, gone beyond getting ready for a case and had moved to something deeply personal. He started to get up out of the witness box. Mac looked over to her partner for a signal. Harm startled that her approach really was just an act, nodded quickly.

She stilled the Lieutenant's actions with gentle pressure on his arm as he passed her. "That is what we don't want to happen when you are up there on the stand, Lieutenant."She said quietly, a part of her regretting she had to do this, but at the same time knowing if she didn't get him ready, innocent looking Bud Roberts and solemn Sturgis Turner would tear him apart. "Remember at all times; keep your voice even, pause before answering, and above all; keep your eyes moving naturally and focusing from time to time on the person talking to you."

"Yes Colonel," he said quietly as he made his way back to the defense table where Harm was sitting.

"You're next." Mac said to an obviously unnerved Lieutenant Lukens sitting next to Harm.

Bud watched as another huge tracked amphibious personnel carrier passed by him. The last time he was in a combat zone, all he saw were Humvees and LAVs. Seeing all this heavy duty combat equipment rumbling around him was very impressive to the younger JAG Corps officer. "Almost better than a video game…." he said to himself as he watched another AMTRAC rumble down the dirt road toward the edge of town.

On the other side of the road, a few of the town's inhabitants were also watching the Marine unit's vehicles. Each of the faces seemed to hold a different emotion about the scene they were observing. Some were awed as Bud, some were resentful, some were nervous, and some were unimpressed. It seemed to the young Lieutenant that Mirbullah's inhabitants mirrored the fragile mosaic that represented the rest of Iraq. He also wondered if any of these people were actually Al-Qaeda soldiers, scouting their enemy for weaknesses. That thought made him uneasy.

"Lieutenant." Bud turned to see Commander Sturgis Turner walking toward him.

Sir? Why did you want to visit the vehicle motor pool and the repair depot?" asked Bud, as he fell into step with the former submariner.

"Playing a hunch Lieutenant," said Sturgis to the younger officer. "I think the answer to our winning this case lies wherever Lieutenant Dodge's AMTRAC will be found."

"The AMTRAC Sir?" probed a curious Bud Roberts "It's been out in the field for nearly six months—you think there's something there that was overlooked in the previous investigation? Don't you?" They stopped.

"Lieutenant there are a lot of things that were overlooked in this case," explained the preacher's son. "I want to make sure we make this conviction stick." He turned and walked away from the man. Bud stood for a moment letting the words sink in before stumping after him.

Bud understood the implied intent of the unspoken words. Despite their more amicable relationship as of late, Bud's poor performance as his defense attorney a month ago still haunted him. It haunted Lieutenant Roberts as well.

He caught up with the Commander and made him stop his forward movement.

"I promise Sir, I won't disappoint you." said Bud solemnly. No matter how many times he said it, it still came out sounding…well, hollow.

"Let's *pray* that's the case Lieutenant." The two Navy men continued walking toward the MEU's maintenance depot without saying another word. Each was lost in _**his**_ own thoughts.

The Staff Sergeant on duty confirmed that the Lieutenant's carrier had just been brought in from the field. He led the two JAG Corps officers to the tan behemoth sitting at the washing hardstand. The vehicle sat on the hardstand's grated floor. Water still dripped from its slab-like sides. Evidence of its most recent washing.

The Sergeant waved his hand in the general direction of the wet AMTRAC. "She's all yours Commander. You've got an hour before I take her to get her bearings lubed."

The two officers exchanged a look as the man left them to their investigative work. Sturgis easily scaled the side of the vehicle and stood on top looking down at Bud.

Sturgis Turner held out his hand to younger officer. Feeling that he had been too hard on the man earlier, he now wanted to make up for that lapse. "Come on Lieutenant, I'll give you a hand-"

"I can pull *myself* up just fine Sir," said Bud defensively as he ignored the senior officer's hand and began to work his way toward the top deck of the massive carrier. The former bubblehead realized what he had just done and the implications of his statement. Not sure what to do next, Sturgis stood silently on the carrier as Lieutenant Bud Roberts slowly made his way up the handrails on the composite aluminum side.

When Bud reached the top of the AMTRAC, he gave the Commander a hard stare. "Where do you want me to start *Sir*?"

The coldness in his request left no doubt that Lieutenant Roberts felt he had been insulted by the Commander.

"Start up by the commander's hatch," directed the Navy officer. "I'll work here toward the back…." He decided now was not the time to try and hash this out. They had work to do. And a case to win.

"Yes Sir." came back the bland reply as Lieutenant Bud Roberts, Jr. walked over to the commander's hatch. When he got there, Bud slowly lowered himself to the deck, careful not the stumble or appear ill balanced in front of his superior officer.

He sat on the still wet deck for a moment looking around before turning back to the Commander, who was now sitting on the deck over the cargo-passenger area next to the recovery crane, examining its metal arm.

Although he was still angry with Sturgis Turner, he decided to let this one go. The better course of action was to focus on this case.

"Sir?" Sturgis looked up when he heard the Lieutenant's more conciliatory tone. "What do you expect to find?"

Sturgis Turner smiled slightly and then turned back to his minute examination of the vehicle's metal skin and various fittings. "A missing link, Lieutenant; something we've overlooked up to now…."

Mac and Harm stood on the packed sand runway, watching the Cobra gunships take off and land.

"Okay Commander Mysterious," quipped Mac lightly. "Do you want to tell me why you dragged us out here? And don't tell me it was so you could watch these things take off and land. I know your pulse only quickens around Tomcat fighters."

Harm shot her a wary smile. Her mood had been so mercurial lately; it was getting tough for him to distinguish fact from fiction. But she did seem to be more of her normal self now. Maybe her banter was an indicator of that.

"Maac," he playfully admonished her, "You should know by now that aviators get excited around any kind of aircraft."

She chuckled and shook her head. Harm was glad to see her good-natured response.

They waited until another Cobra gunship cleared the improvised landing area before crossing the field and heading to the maintenance sheds on the far side. The Commander walked up to the First Sergeant who was making notes in his PDA. The man saw the two officers approaching and threw both a quick salute.

"Commander, Colonel; what can I do for you?"

Harm and Mac acknowledged the salute. "Sergeant, is Lieutenant Luken's gunship in here?" The Commander looked around in the dark interior of the makeshift hanger at the row of sidelined helicopters.

"You're in luck Sir," responded the head maintenance officer. "She pulled duty early this morning and is in for her regular check-up."

"Can we see her?" Harm asked earnestly.

The maintenance officer nodded. "Absolutely; Sir, Ma'am, follow me…."

As they walked back to the silent craft and away from the noise and dust of the airfield, Mac leaned over and whispered in Harm's ear.

"Harm, what are you expecting to find? It's been almost six months…."

He whispered back to her. "A miracle Mac. But if I'm right, it could save all of us a lot of grief…."

Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie had no idea what Harmon Rabb's cryptic comment was supposed to mean, but if he meant it would get their clients off, she was all for it.

"Sir?"

Sturgis sat up and looked over at younger man. "What is it Lieutenant?"

Bud held up the bullet he had retrieved from the stowage gear festooned along the side of the AMTRAC.

"Our missing link Sir."

Sturgis made his way over to the man. "Lieutenant, if you were a woman, I would kiss you…."

Bud looked wryly at him. "Then I'd have to bring you up on charges of sexual harassment, Sir."

The absurdity of the comment made Sturgis Turner rumble with laughter that came from deep inside.

Bud couldn't help but smile at this outburst of laughter from the Commander. "But thank you for the sentiment, Sir." He stuck out his hand to the man.

Sturgis paused for moment and studied the Lieutenant before firmly shaking his hand. "You're welcome Lieutenant; let's go give Harm and Mac the bad news…."

Harm and Mac were underneath the belly of Lieutenant Luken's AH-1W looking at the running gear and various fittings.

"Aha!" said Harm excitedly.

"I thought you were supposed to yell 'Eureka' or words to that effect." groused Mac as she slowly eased herself out from underneath the gunship. Her back had begun to trouble her more since they had been lying on this cool concrete floor for the past half hour than it had the whole time they had been here.

Maybe being smashed against that SUV's console when Sadik's goon had tossed that anti-tank grenade underneath their vehicle in the Chaco Boreal had hurt her worse then she cared to admit.

"Come on Mac, don't rain on my parade-" he stopped when he saw her wince as she started to sit up. He immediately dropped the banter and moved closer to her. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked, concern coloring his expression.

"I'm fine," she said adopting her 'I'm a Marine' attitude. "This floor is just a little harder than I thought it would be." She said lamely.

Harm wasn't buying it. "Come on Mac, you're a Marine; I know you've slept on harder surfaces than this."

"Maybe all that soft living in Washington has finally caught up with me," she said through clenched teeth. She tried to deflect the conversation away from her. "You've been blown out of cockpits, how many times? Three or four at least. Shouldn't your back be bothering you as well? We've spent a half hour lying on this concrete…."

"A hard surface is supposed to be good for a hurting back." He saw right through her smoke screen. "Come on Mac, something's not right. Level with me. You've been trying to hide something since we got here."

"It's nothing Harm, really," she said evasively, willing the pain to go away. "Now why the big 'aha' that made me nearly konk my head on the underside of this gunship?"

"This." He moved his hand over to hers and dropped the dull metallic object into her palm. He decided not to pursue why her back was bothering (…_was it connected to her fainting spell earlier?) _He thought idly for a moment before deciding to let it drop for now, but one way or the other he was going to find out what she was trying to hide.

She looked at it for a long moment until her forensics' training, dulled by lack of sleep, kicked in. "This bullet is from a Western made gun. It's definitely not a Russian made round." She looked into his blue gray eyes. "Harm?"

"We're going to get to the bottom of this case, Mac," said Harm, his voice was underscored by fierce determination. The look on her partner's face was one Mac had only seen a couple of times before. The last time was in Paraguay. "And we're going to nail whoever is causing all this chaos."

The two JAG Corps attorneys made their way back across the runway. Harm carefully watched Mac as she walked, looking for signs of anything bothering her. Nothing in her walk indicated anything was wrong. Far from it. In fact from his view just slightly behind her, it was perfect. A sigh escaped his lips before he realized it.

Mac's Marine ears immediately picked up the escape of air from her partner's lips.

"Okay," she said continuing to walk slightly faster, ensuring that she kept just ahead of him, "Why the sigh?"

"I didn't sigh." He said trying to sound surprised. "What makes you think I sighed?"

"Harm, that was a lovesick sigh if I ever heard one." she said with a hint of playfulness in her voice.

"Was not." It seemed to him like the proper response.

"Was too." she quipped, getting into the spirit of this lighthearted conversation. It felt good to banter with him.

"Is this you or the Lindsey character you're playing?" said Harm suddenly become very serious.

Mac stopped and turned to face the Commander. Her expression was serious as well. "It's me Harm. There isn't anybody around at this moment-" She stopped herself before letting the conversation deteriorate any further. What was the matter with them? Why couldn't they just accept friendly banter for what it was?

"Look, that came out wrong," she said tentatively, an embarrassed expression crossed her features.

Harm himself took a mental step back. He didn't want to argue with her. "No, I was the one that threw down the gauntlet." He stated flatly.

"Okay, so we're both at fault," she said smiling ruefully, "What do you say to starting this conversation over again?"

"I'm game if you are." he replied hopefully.

"Okay, I know I heard a sigh," she began with a small smile.

"I was just watching my girlfriend walk and my maleness got the better of me, so I let a sigh, um, escape." Harm explained sheepishly.

Mac looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear their conversation and then back at the self-conscious Commander. Her voice took on a different quality. She actually sounded touched. "You like watching me walk?"

"Um, always have." He admitted, hoping he wasn't going too far by revealing this. He knew how she felt about chauvinists and their sexist comments.

Her voice took on a seductive tone. "Then I guess I'll just have to order you to stay behind me from now on." She winked for emphasis. Then her voice became staid.

"Look Harm, these past few days have been rough and I know I've been like Jekyll and Hyde lately-"

"Mac we all have," said Harm gently cutting her off, not wanting her to agonize over this, "What we've been doing has been messing with my head, too." He said referring to playing the role of the characterization of him found in the Manetti/Lindsey report. "We'll get through this and then we can concentrate on us."

The Marine Lieutenant Colonel smiled at that comment. "I'd like that very much."

"It's a date." He said without thinking. They both looked at each other for a moment and then chuckled.

"Good choice of words, huh?" said Harm off-handedly.

"Not a bad choice if you ask me," she said smiling again at him. "Come on, we'd better get back and show Bud and Sturgis what we've found."

They started walking again, passing the guard post and headed out into the bivouac area. "Harm," she said tentatively as they continued walking "How did you know to check the exhaust fairing for a trapped bullet?"

"Uh, experience." said Harm quickly, realizing that he had let something slip that he promised himself he would never tell her because of her nervousness about his flying - especially in light of her disturbing dreams as of late. He hoped his curt answer would end further discussion.

-TBC…


	25. Chapter 24

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 24

He should have known better. She stopped and raised an inquiring eyebrow. "What kind of 'experience'? You mean while flying for the dark side, don't you?"

"Mac, I got the chance to fly a lot of aircraft while I was employed by them and learned how they all worked." Harm said speciously. It was a partial answer her question though.

"I'm sure you did," she said sourly. She recognized his evasive tactic. _Once a Flyboy always a Flyboy…. _She decided to call him on it. "Let me guess; you knew to look there because when you took ground fire on some of your missions for the Company, that's where you found bullets lodged, right?"

"Mac, don't go there…." warned Harm.

Her voice told exactly how she felt. "I have to Harm, I saw it all in my dreams every night while you were off flying with them; I saw each close call, each near mishap. Every time something would go wrong, I saw it in my dreams with perfect clarity. Of course you apparently did get out okay, because otherwise you wouldn't be standing here talking to me." She looked into his eyes, searching for the man she knew before Paraguay. The one that would nod his head and admit to the truth.

Harmon Rabb knew about her dreams and psychic impressions. He even, somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind, conceded they might have a psychic connection. He had admitted to Sturgis that her dreams were not to be ignored and even credited them with saving his life. But until now, he had almost forgotten what he had said in jest to her a few years back.

_Do I give you nightmares?_

It was apparent that he did. It rocked the normally cocky aviator/lawyer. They really were getting serious – it wasn't just talk anymore, she was letting her feelings out, even when she didn't want to and she wanted honesty from him in return. He was afraid…afraid his answer would open a gulf between them.

He tried to think of something, anything witty to say to ward off the heavy cloying affect of her words. But his seemingly bottomless banter died in the face of this. The sad, resigned and exhausted look that she wore hit him harder than any cruel comment she could have hurled at him at the moment. Despite the fact that they were getting closer, it seemed the MacKenzie/Rabb curse was going to have the last laugh and break them apart again.

No, he would not let this separate them. Not now. He had to do what he had done in the past to beat this. Trust her. Face what might happen and tell her what she wanted to know. Then he would have a legitimate reason to find out what was troubling her and bring it out into the open. Break this cycle once and for all.

"Mac, I did what I had to do because I was indebted to Kershaw for helping me find you." he said, hoping she would understand. It was Harmon Rabb linguistics at its best

Well, there it was. Coming from the Commander that was a pretty good confession that her dreams had been right. So she decided to lighten the moment in honor of his acknowledgement.

"And Webb," she added trying to be light. "You came after both us." In light of the heavy comment made just moments before, it was the wrong thing to say. He glared at her.

"Right. Him too. Would you let me finish please?" She nodded, biting her lower lip. The levity died as he tried to pick up where he left off. "I know you don't like me

flying-"

"It's not that I don't like you flying Harm," she said forcefully, trying to make the former Top Gun understand what really bothered her about his missions. "It's just I don't like you flying in combat and I really don't like you flying without me there to watch your six."

"Well, we didn't do so well together in Paraguay." He said dryly, momentarily reliving the jarring crash.

"Sure, we could have been killed there Harm, but we weren't. You did the best you could, considering that the plane was shot up and there was no real place to land. Harm, tell me the truth please, what I saw in my dreams…it was real wasn't it?"

Harm could tell that she meant it. It was the closest Sarah MacKenzie had ever come to telling him what a good pilot he was-despite all the bad luck that seemed to follow him. And in return for this confession she wanted him to tell her the truth.

Now it was Harm's turn to reach out. He knew she wouldn't like what he had to say, but if he was going to keep her trust, he had to do this.

"Like it or not, Mac, flying is as much a part of me as being a Marine is part of you, I just could not give that up," he began gently. "Yes, I did learn about where to look based on what happened on some of my CIA Air Corps missions. Things, uh, didn't always go as planned."

Sarah MacKenzie nodded dully. "Thank you, Harm." She said quietly. Her worst fears had been confirmed. Now the specter of her recent nightmares returned.

Harm knew she was thinking of those recent dreams of hers and wanted to steer her away from those dark thoughts. "The best way I know for you to beat this is for you to tell me about your dream." he locked eyes with her, preparing for the worst. "All of it."

"Harm-" she began carefully, Mac wanted to avoid talking about this anymore.

But he was ready for her move. Harm reached out and grabbed her hand. She stared at his demanding expression. "No Mac, we can't bury this, or hide it_**,**_ or ignore it. The truth is, it's not going to go away and we need to talk about it if you are ever going to get a decent night's sleep again."

That may have been true, but Colonel MacKenzie wanted an equal confession from her obviously tired and sleep-deprived partner. Something was clearly bothering him too and she wanted to know about it. He owed her that much.

"What about you, Harm? You look like you haven't been sleeping well either," She countered. It was true; his late night compassion sessions with her were beginning to take their toll and there was something else keeping him up.

"Harm? Why haven't you been sleeping?"

The former Top gun wanted an answer first. "You tell me about your dream – all of it – not just parts…and I'll tell you what's been bothering me."

He knew if he didn't compromise, that they would go around and around on this until one of them blew up. He wasn't going to let that happen again.

At first he thought she wasn't going to agree. In times past this would have degenerated into one of their classic battles, but not this time. She wanted to know what was bothering him as much as he wanted to know what was bothering her.

"There's not much to tell really," she said quietly, shrugging her shoulders, "I see you in a plane…it's a Tomcat…you're flying a combat mission…here…in Iraq…then a surface to air missile hits your plane and it causes your aircraft to explodes into flames."

Harm swallowed hard. He could now see why she was trying to keep this to herself and why it was tearing her up inside. "Mac-"

"There's more…." She added.

He looked intently at her.

"I can hear voices…"

"What kind of voices?" the Commander wanted to know everything now, "Who do they belong to?"

"I can't tell," she confessed turning around and walking away from him. She didn't want to see his face when she told him. "But I can hear them. They say…_ Missiles inbound...Brace for impact...Eject… Eject… Eject…._"She closed her eyes as she repeated the words; she could hear them replay from her nightmares. Mac opened her eyes again, still keeping her back turned to the Commander. "But you somehow get clear, you parachute out."

Harm walked over to her and made her face him. "Well there you go, Mac, See?" He said giving one of his Flyboy grins. "I get out…." His voice trailed off and his smile faded as he saw the utter desolation in her face. Tears filling the rims of her eyes told him all he needed to know. He stood rooted to the spot. Gnawing fear grabbed at his stomach.

"I don't make it, do I?" he said, his voice filling with dread.

"You're dead when you hit the ground." She said in an odd voice, like a seer seeing an unstoppable tragedy. She looks at the ground, unable to look at his horrified face anymore. "You make it out, but you're dead when you land."

"Now tell me what's keeping you up at night," She said urgently, gathering the courage to look at him again. "You promised."

Harm sighed and took her hands in his. "I see the same thing Mac; and you're the witness to my death."_  
><em>

Bud opened another thick file and tried to stifle yet another yawn. The Commanders and the Colonel went to bed hours ago. Whatever Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie had been doing earlier in the day had worn them out. Both were dead on their feet. All four spent just an hour discussing the new evidence each group had found before hitting the sack.

But Lieutenant Roberts couldn't sleep. Maybe it was the comments that Commander Turner had made, or maybe he was just missing Harriet and little AJ. Whatever it was, it was keeping him awake and this was far better than lying in bed with his eyes wide open and his mind racing around at 90 miles an hour.

He thought about the evidence they had found in the last few days and all the craziness that had happened. The bloody name written in the jail cell, the recreation of the battle that hinted at someone else firing at Lieutenant Dodge, and the deaths of several witnesses in the recent riots.

Bud J. Roberts was convinced more than ever that his first theory was right; someone else had killed the Lieutenant and distracted him enough to make him forget his flak jacket so he would be an easy target. It made sense to the young Lieutenant that somebody was manipulating events. Maybe someone that only appeared to be innocent.

"Boy, I sound worse than those conspiracy theorists…." he muttered to himself while letting a wry chuckle escape his lips. He also reminded himself that he was on the prosecution team, not the defense.

Still, he reasoned, the hearing didn't start until tomorrow. So he could still be an investigator until the hearing actually began...

It bothered him that file box of recorded radio transmissions, operational orders and situation reports had several files missing. Granted, battlefield record keeping operations were a little more haphazard than other records management centers, but several key files, mostly those pertaining to the day Lieutenant Dodge died, simply were not in the box.

He thought at first they might have been shoved into other folders, that sure happens enough. Nope. Then he thought maybe the files were out of order in the box. No, his examination revealed the files were in reasonably good order. Then he turned around and looked at the file cabinet in the corner where the records officer had pulled these documents from.

"Well, I might as well check…." he said getting up and moving over to the cabinet. Bud fished the keys out of his pocket given to him by Captain Johnson and unlocked the cabinet. He pulled open the drawer and looked in. It was empty just like it supposed to be. None of the missing folders had mysteriously reappeared. Bud sighed and shook his head at his crazy idea.

As he was starting to shut the drawer, he noticed the back wall of the metal drawer left a gap. A gap just big enough for someone to put files in there that they didn't want found.

"Cool." he said as he pulled the drawer forward enough so that he could reach his hand into the gap. As he snaked his hand into the opening, Bud leaned over and strained to get more of his arm into the opening.

Bud felt the something, but he wasn't sure what it was. He reached his hand back a little further….

"Ahhh! Bud banged his hand on the inside of the drawer as he yanked it out. He shook his hurting, cobweb covered hand furiously, trying to make the pain go away. "Oh yuck!" he groaned as he moved away from the cabinet. He looked down at the throbbing hand. No bites; just a red mark where his hand had scraped the inside wall of the cabinet and the sticky remains of a spider web glued to his fingers.

"Aw man," he groaned again. "Way to go, Bud," he griped to himself. "Why didn't you just pull the drawer all the way out of the cabinet like you should have in the first place?"

It took him about twenty minutes to get the drawer disconnected from the rail inside the filing cabinet. Of course, the back and bottom of the drawer was covered with spider webs. Bud grabbed a flashlight and peered inside the open space left by the missing drawer.

Amidst the eerie looking cobwebs, the Lieutenant saw several file folders that had been folded over and otherwise mutilated. He picked up a map pointer that he had on his work desk and knocked the offending webs out of the way. That done, he put it down on top of the cabinet.

Bud, keeping the flashlight trained on the files, then carefully reached in and pulled them out. Setting down the flashlight, he unfolded one of the doubled over folders.

"Operational orders, Mirbullah clearing operation, 23 March 2003." Bud read from the header on the top of the dusty, dirty folder. He opened it and examined the contents. "Wow!" he said flipping the page and continuing to read what else was in the file. "Oh man, I gotta tell them about this!"

Harm stifled a yawn as he met Mac coming out of her quarters.

"We gotta stop meeting like this," she quipped.

"Well don't tell me, Harm said shaking his head ruefully, "Tell Bud, he's the one who organized that little document party last night. I'm sure Captain Johnson and Major Barnett enjoyed it as well."

They walked along in silence toward the BLT Headquarters for a few moments, returning the salutes of junior officers and enlisted men as they made their way to the building.

"Did we thank him for finding those files?"

"Thank him?" Harm said with mock disgust, "I wanted to throttle him. We had to spend the next three hours trying to assimilate everything we learned from those missing files into our cases."

"Harm…." Mac said a warning tone in her voice.

"Okay, you're right Mac," said the Commander holding up a hand to stop her before she got started, "We should thank him."

Mac smiled slyly at her partner, "I take it three hours was not enough beauty rest for you…." she said playfully.

He shot her a playful grin. "I can take it if you can, MacKenzie."

She chuckled. This is what she liked. Nevertheless, another more disturbing thought was standing up, demanding to be examined.

"Harm? Do you think the Records Officer was responsible for the files going missing?" she said as she returned the salute of another Corporal.

The aviator/lawyer turned serious as he also returned the salute. "Sergeant Edgerton said he wasn't involved, Mac, but that seems to be the byword of this whole unit. 'It wasn't me, I didn't do it, I don't know how that happened'."

"Yeah, I know." She said slowly, as if weighing the validity of that statement.

Harm gave a quick curious look. "Well you started this, what do you think?"

"I think Edgerton may be telling the truth…." she said carefully, knowing what kind of response it was going to provoke.

Harm stopped dead as did she. "You want to tell me how you know this, Marine? And don't tell me it's women's intuition."

"Think about it Harm," the Marine attorney said clinically**.** "Edgerton could be guilty…of sloppy record keeping…," he started pulling away from her. She reached out for his arm. He stopped.

"Harm, listen to me. Think about it; lots of people had access to that office. I agree something stinks around here, but while this guy could use a few hits on his FITREP for sloppiness, he's not the one we're looking for."

"Then we're back to our dead ends…Colwell and Grearson. There's someone else involved Mac, you know it and I know it. Whoever misplaced those folders wanted to make sure our defense was practically worthless." He walked over to the door and held it open for her.

"Yep, all we've got to do is figure out who it is or who they are." She walked in first and he followed, gently touching her in the small of her back to guide her in.

At 0952, the MPs led Lukens and Buell to the defense table where Harm, Mac, and Captain Johnson were waiting. Bud busied himself looking through the evidence listings and Major Barnett looked through the witness list again. Sturgis looked one more time through his opening statement.

Seated in the back of the room were Colonel Briggs, Brigadier General Thornton, and several of the 36th MEU's ranking officers.

Mac looked at the clock. At 0955 Colonel Blakely came in and made his way to the bench. He sat down and opened his notes for the hearing.

"I remind you both this is an Article 32 hearing to determine if there is enough evidence for a trial."

He turned his eyes to Commander Turner. "Prosecution, are you ready to begin?"

Sturgis stood and nodded to the Judge. "We are your Honor."

Blakely turned his eyes to Harm and Mac. "Defense counsel?"

Harm stood and acknowledged the man. "We are ready, Your Honor."

"Then let's get started."

Sturgis stood again and opened the hearing. "Docket number 5121219,VR-7. The United States versus 1st Lieutenant Benjamin F. Lukens and 2nd Lieutenant Fredrick P. Buell. The accused are charged under the UCMJ with violations of Article 118, Murder; Article 128, Assault with the intention to do grievous bodily harm with a loaded firearm; Article 133, Conduct unbecoming an officer and Article 99, Misbehavior before the enemy." Having finished, the preacher's son sat down.

Judge Blakely looked from Commander Turner to Harm. "Does the defense wish to enter a plea for the accused?"

Aviator/lawyer Harm Rabb, Jr. stood and looked directly at the judge. "Yes your Honor, not guilty on all charges and specifications."

Sturgis had hoped Harm would say guilty on some of the charges but he should have known better than to expect that from his old academy buddy. Bud was not surprised. In all his years of working with the Commander, if Harmon Rabb believed that his clients were not guilty, he would protest any charge against them. The Lieutenant looked over at Mac. The Marine Lieutenant Colonel was seeking to re-assure an obviously nervous Lieutenant Buell. She purposely did not look in the Lieutenant's direction.

Blakely made a notation on his desk pad and then looked up at both counsels. "Prosecution, you may begin."

Thank you your Honor. On 23 March 2003, elements of the 36th MEU, specifically the 3rd Battalion, 2nd Marines, supported by reconnaissance elements and a section from the MEU's attached tank platoon, was charged with clearing the village of Mirbullah of elements of the 2nd Mechanized Division, Al-Medinah, Republican Guard. This unit was confirmed by intelligence from the Central Intelligence Agency and the Defense Intelligence Agency to be supporting elements of an active cell of Al-Qaeda soldiers and operatives. Combined Joint Task Force-11 based at Camp Montana, ordered the 36th to conduct Intelligence Surveillance and Reconnaissance and Leadership Interdiction Operations. Specifically, they were to neutralize the Republican Guard and Mechanized Al-Qaeda elements, secure the ad-hoc force's SCUD and FROG missile systems and-"

"Objection Your honor; while I'm sure Commander Turner could give an accurate report on the plans of the 36th, could we please get to the part that concerns my clients?" Harm looked exasperated. Sturgis knew the bored litigator tactic, the question was, would the Judge agree?

"Commander I have to agree, can we get to that part?" the Marine judge asked.

Sturgis was ready for the cutting off tactic and dug a little deeper into his introduction, getting to the meat of it, but making it sound like Harm had jumped the gun on being bored.

"I was just coming to that your Honor," Sturgis said patiently as he turned and continued his introduction. "In the ensuing confusion of the battle, 1st Lieutenant Phillip M. Dodge of the 2nd Combat Engineers broke away from the main body of the 36th that was assaulting the west side of the village and came to the aid of Bravo company, 3-2 Marines. After relieving and rallying the trapped unit, he deliberately placed his AMTRAC in the line of fire between the enemy forces and Lieutenant Lukens downed gunship. As Lieutenant Dodge sought to protect these men, they got out of their gunship and shot and killed Lieutenant Dodge."

Harm zeroed in on his academy buddy's slip. "Objection your Honor, it is not proven that my clients killed Lieutenant Dodge. I move that the last statement be stricken from the record."

"Sustained," Blakely turned to the court reporter, "You will strike Commander Turner's last sentence from the record."

_One point for you Buddy…._ thought Commander Turner. If he was annoyed with Harm's tactics, he didn't show it.

"I'll rephrase, your Honor. As Lieutenant Dodge sought to protect these men, they got out of their gunship and allegedly shot and killed Lieutenant Dodge."

Blakely looked over at Harm. "Defense Counsel?"

Commander Harmon Rabb rose from his chair moved toward the front of the courtroom. "Your Honor there is no doubt that Lieutenants Dodge and Lukens had their differences. These actions are well known and recorded. However, when in combat situations, both men performed without hesitation and to the best of their ability. Lieutenants Buell and Lukens both have outstanding records of service up to this incident. Lieutenant Buell always followed whatever orders were given to him and was and still is an exemplary officer. Lieutenant Lukens is considered to be one of the best pilots in his unit. What happened on 23 March can at best be called an accident and at worst fratricide. Your Honor, our clients who stand before you today have been wrongly accused of murder. What happened to Lieutenant Dodge is a tragedy, but it not murder and certainly was not premeditated."

Mac leaned over and whispered angrily into her partner's ear, "Great speech there, Clarence Darrow."

Harm turned to her and looked at the aggravated female Marine, his eyebrows up near the middle of his forehead. His whispered response was just as sharp and cutting as hers. "What did you want me to do Mac, stand up there and claim there are evil forces at work trying to frame them?"

Mac rolled her eyes. "What about the serious lapse in due process, counselor? We could have used that-"

The judge noticed the acrimony between the two attorneys. Not that unusual, except that normally they were on opposite sides of the case. "Commander Rabb, Colonel MacKenzie, is there something you would like to add to your opening statement?"

Harm turned away from Mac and smiled cheerfully. "Your Honor, could I have a moment to confer with my co-counsel?"

Blakely leveled his eyes at the Commander, not buying the act totally. "Make it brief."

For the next few moments, Harm and Mac whispered heatedly to each other. Lukens and Buell tried not to look over at their defense team. Things didn't look so good right now.

Harm smiled wryly at Mac while finishing his whispered conversation with her. "I hope Blakely doesn't hold our toes too close to the fire for this display. We'll continue this later…."

"You bet we will, Commander." said an angry looking Mac with a wink.

"Commander, Colonel, is there a problem?"

"Uh, no your Honor, my co-counsel was just providing me with a different point of view on how we should proceed next."

Blakely eyed the two defense attorneys sternly. "I see. Commander, I would hope that you and the Colonel would come to my courtroom better prepared. Please be more respectful of this court, or I will have to find you in contempt."

Both answered looking uncomfortable, "Yes your Honor."

"I trust this conference you just had will not set a precedent."

-TBC…


	26. Chapter 25

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 25

A/N1: Disclaimers and other vital information can be found in the Chapter Story notes [Ch 1].

A/N2: **~~** indicates flashback ( ) indicates the thoughts of a person. *~* indicates a scene shift not otherwise indicated by a JAG time stamp. ~~~~ indicates a dream sequence.

A/N3: Thanks to my friend and beta, Karen, who is my sounding board and has helped me see this through. Kudoes to AeroGirl, Mkim, Soleil, TZ, and Janlaw for providing their help and technical expertise. Also thanks to Lisa Griffon [Yahoo Shipper Group] for her continuing support and the original idea for this tale.

Book Two:

1153 Zulu

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

Monday, 30 June 2003

The Red Dodge Intrepid glided into the parking place next to the grassy hillside. Muffled music in the form of bass and percussion could faintly be heard from the outside. Sergeant Givers killed the engine and opened the door to get out. As she stood up, she pulled out her briefcase, smoothed her dark green slacks and straightened her khaki blouse. She leaned over, looking into her rearview mirror, checking to make sure her garrison cap was on straight and centered, in line with her eyebrows. The last thing she needed this week was the Admiral dressing her down for sloppy presentation. She still had three days of latrine duty to go. Still, Marla tried to keep her mind on more pleasant things; it helped that radio station she listened to decided some Charlie Daniels would be a good change of pace.

"I ain't askin' nobody for nothing…hmmm hmmm hmmm hmmm hmumm." she continued humming the song, Long Haired Country Boy, as she headed toward the front entrance of the building. "…you just leave this long haired country girl alone—Oh!"

She stopped short because she almost ran right into Major Carly Clemons who was also headed toward the front door of the building.

Major Clemons stared at her icily. "Sergeant, have you forgotten military protocol?"

"No Ma'am," Marla said hurriedly, throwing her a sharp salute, "Good morning, Major."

Carly crisply returned her salute. "What were you humming just now, Sergeant?"

Marla wasn't sure why she wanted this information, but the Major was an officer and she was a just an NCO. "Um, it's a Charlie Daniels Band song, Long Haired Country Boy—only I changed the lyrics a little, Ma'am."

Carly made a face like she had just tasted something bitter. "And why did you do that?"

"Uh, well Ma'am, you see, it's a song about a country boy, and I'm a country girl-"

Carly waved her hand to stop her, having heard enough. "Sergeant, do you know the purpose of soldiers holding your rank?"

Marla Givers hated pop quizzes, especially ones given by officers who didn't like her taste in music. "Yes Ma'am, per the tables of organization and equipment for a squad, I am the highest ranking member of that unit and its leader."

"You are also to act as a role model for those Marines in your squad, Givers. It's tough to be a good role model if you listen to such trash."

She'd heard it before, but that didn't make her any less angry. "Aye, aye Major."

Try and be more careful about your taste in music, Sergeant. You never know who might be listening." Major Clemons turned on her heel and strode inside.

"Aye Ma'am." she said grimly. Marla Givers wondered if Commander Imes would be able to get her off with a temporary insanity plea if something should happen to the good Major.

The mixture of non-commissioned and commissioned officers shifted uncomfortably in their seats, arrayed around the mahogany conference table. Alan Mattoni looked at his watch; 1358 Zulu. He gave Carolyn Imes a questioning sidelong glance. She shrugged noncommittally.

As they glanced at each other, wondering idly if the fifteen-minute rule for college professors applied to late Admirals as well… probably not. They looked up when they heard a noise from the stairwell. They all heard the Gunnery Sergeant's bark.

"Admiral on deck!" All in the bullpen and in the briefing room stood at attention.

AJ Chegwidden made his way into the room. All eyes in the room turned toward him, hoping he would let them know what was really going on Mirbullah.

"As you were," he said as he made his way to his chair at the head of the table. The senior JAG Corps staff sat down again as Admiral Chegwidden put on his reading glasses and examined the case files sitting to his right. He looked briefly over at his Yeoman, before examining the top file folder on the pile. It was obvious AJ Chegwidden wasn't about to waste time discussing current events. They had a job to do.

"Tiner, you didn't fax that JAGMan report to Colonel MacKenzie on Thursday did you?" he said, as he opened the top folder on the pile and began reading some of the papers that were inside it.

No Sir, Admiral," said Tiner smartly, "Per your orders, I did not send that JAGMan report to the Colonel. And neither did Lieutenant Sims, Sir."

Chegwidden looked down the table at Lieutenant Sims and Tiner, staring stonily Tiner and then at her. She smiled briefly. "Thank you for not doing this, Lieutenant, Petty Officer." AJ said dryly.

Alan and Carolyn stole a look at Major Clemons and Commander Burford who were completely baffled by what had just taken place.

"Sir?" ventured Commander Mattoni, "Commander Burford and Major Clemons seem to be having some difficulty understanding your orders. Maybe it would help if you explained…." He trailed off, unsure just how far he wanted to push this.

AJ shifted his stare to the senior attorney for a long moment before clearing his throat and addressing the junior officers. "Well, Major, Commander; since you two seem to be the only ones who are out of the loop, the Commander feels you should be enlightened as to what just took place." Both officers turned and gave their full attention to their CO.

"The JAGMan report that did *not* go to Mirbullah was *not* supposed to leave this office. However, if by *some* chance mistake or misinterpretation, it was faxed and without my knowledge or when I was out of the office, then technically it would not be a violation of my standing orders." He smiled patiently at the two officers. "Am I making myself clear?" he said with an edge in his voice as he focused on Alan who had wisely decided not to say anything else. Carolyn fought hard to keep a smile from creasing her lips.

Carly and John looked at each other for a brief moment as if to confirm what they heard. Then they both turned back to the Admiral. "Understood Sir." They replied, picking up on what he was doing. AJ nodded sagely. (These two have potential after all.)

"Why Sir?" piped up Carly, wanting to know more. "Why all the subterfuge? Why not just rescind the order and send the report to Mirbullah?"

"Because Major, in the last 72 hours, our security detail and the IT staff have reported at least twelve breaches of our computer systems' firewall and scanning of all files dealing with Mirbullah case."

He looked at his entire staff seated around him. It was time for them to know what game was being played and who their adversary might be. "Like it or not, we are under surveillance by someone in Mirbullah, possibly within the 36th MEU. Someone wants to know everything we've done about this case up to this moment. This is not to leave this room; until further notice, all personnel files and all files dealing with the Mirbullah case have been replaced with altered copies. These files are to remain in our system's server until I give the order to return the original files to their rightful place. All telephone and fax requests for any information regarding Mirbullah or any incidents occurring in that area will be forwarded to Petty Officer Tiner or Lieutenant Sims." He looked around the table. "Have I made myself clear?"

The assembled group met Chegwidden's unusual order with affirmation.

He handed several copies of a thick report to Jason Tiner who distributed them to everyone in the room.

"This is the official report on the efficiency and readiness of the Judge Advocate General's Corps per Commander Tracy Manetti. You will recognize this report as the one that Commander Lindsey gave to SecNav earlier this spring. We are using this report as bait and the Commander Rabb's JAGMan team in Mirbullah is portraying the characters noted in the report."

"The Secretary and Commander Manetti have agreed to go along with our little charade in order to catch this culprit or culprits. Please review all the facts in report and commit them to memory." He paused and looked over at the replacement attorneys.

"Commander Burford, Major Clemons; special addendums have been added along with falsified FITREPs to support the information reported in the addendum. All this is being done to smoke out who it is in the 36th that has suddenly taken such an interest in us. I want to nail them with the goods."

"Aye, aye Sir," they chorused.

The rest readily agreed with the Admiral's plan. It was an acceptable risk.

As everyone read their copy of the bogus report, they learned just what role they would be playing in this cat and mouse game.

AJ Chegwidden seemed to look uncomfortable with this next part. "This will call for, um, certain breaches…in protocol and these will be tolerated until…the suspects are caught. If asked for any reports regarding Mirbullah or any information regarding JAG Corps staff, this is your script." He smiled wryly at the group. They nodded their agreement to the command.

Seeing no dissension seemed to make the Admiral breathe easier. He gave them a small paternal smile. "Good. Now that we have that out of the way, let's move on to other business…" He adjusted his glasses and began reading from the next file in his stack.

"…Staff Sergeant Jake Hilton was found in drunken stupor in his car just outside the non-commissioned officers' barracks at Quantico. In his trunk, MPs found a loaded sniper rifle and one spent cartridge. It seems three of the bullets from his gun found their way into his girlfriend, one Stacie Keller."

"Are they sure the bullets are from Staff Sergeant Hilton's gun?" asked Carolyn.

"Preliminary evidence indicates that's the case. NCIS is taking the lead on this investigation. Commander Imes, I want you and Commander Burford to head down to the brig at Quantico and interview Staff Sergeant Hilton. You'll be his defense team. Commander Mattoni, I want you and Major Clemons to liaison with the NCIS investigating team and find out everything you can; you'll be the prosecution team. Coates, you'll provide assistance to the defense and Sergeant Givers, you'll provide assistance to the prosecution."

"I want this wrapped up quick. Ms. Keller happens to be the daughter of Congressman Steven F. Keller"

"Head of the House Sub-Committee on Defense department oversight." added Tiner. Rear Admiral Chegwidden glared so hard at the Petty Officer, one expected the enlisted man's head to burst into flames.

Seeing Tiner was sufficiently cowed he continued. "Exactly. Commanders' I expect by Wednesday to have a report on whether or not this should go to trial."

"Aye Sir." Mattoni and Imes were not about to contradict him.

"Lieutenant, you and Petty Officer Tiner have been reassigned to the Mirbullah-Dodge case."

Harriet and Jason exchanged quick glances then responded professionally. "Aye, aye Sir."

36th MEU, BLT Headquarters

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Sturgis called his first witness, Major Jeff Kent, the 36th MEU's intelligence officer. Once he had been sworn in and seated, the bubblehead began laying the groundwork proving that the Cobra crew was guilty.

He started out on a friendly yet questioning tone. "Major Kent, why was the 36th brought to Mirbullah? "

The Major was used to these kinds of questions. Everyone always questioned the intel officer as to why were they doing what they were doing. He fired back professionally, like he was giving an after action report. "As TF Tarawa was assaulting the 11th Infantry Division and Saddam's Fedayeen holding An Nasiriyah, reports came in from U.S. Army Special Forces units in the Kerbala area that an under-strength armored battalion was making its way south to bolster the 11th . Reports indicated the unit was riding shotgun for elements of a missile brigade."

He paused for effect before telling lawyer and the Judge why they were here. He locked eyes with Sturgis Turner. "Because of standing orders to eliminate any possible sources of weapons of mass destruction, 2nd MEB ordered Colonel Briggs to Mirbullah to capture those weapons before they could be used on Task Force Tarawa."

Sturgis being a seasoned lawyer, brushed aside the patriotic rejoinder, and showed he had his own information about the battle. "And what else did you learn as you moved toward Mirbullah? you learned something else as you moved toward Mirbullah, didn't you Major?"

The Major's eyes widened a fraction.

(Good one bubblehead…) thought Harm as he rested his head on his right hand with his index finger lying alongside his temple. He was always a little surprised how good the preacher's son was at this game. To anyone else in the courtroom it looked like Harmon Rabb, Jr. was bored with it all. But only to those who didn't know him. He was carefully studying Sturgis' questions looking for a flaw, a weak point that he could exploit. The aviator/lawyer raised his head and surreptitiously scribbled down a few notes that would help with his cross-examination.

The Major scrambled to recover his professional demeanor. (What did they tell this squid about this operation…I thought this op was supposed to be classified…. How did that squid know that?) "Uh, Yes Sir; we received intelligence reports that placed an Al-Qaeda cell in the town. This cell was known to have been involved in laboratory experiments in Afghanistan with weapons of mass destruction."

Sturgis nodded his head as if he heard this information a thousand times. He walked slowly away from the witness box. "That made it even more important to neutralize those missiles and capture that cell, correct?"

"Objection," said Harm patiently, as scribbled down another note. "Counsel is leading the witness. His question suggests that his own witness is hostile."

Blakely looked over at Sturgis Turner. "Sustained, but I'd like to hear the Major's answer to the question." Sturgis and Harm traded stoic glances. Like knights of old, they silently acknowledged each other's skills. Mac fought hard not to roll her eyes at this posturing. All this testosterone in the room was making her queasy.

Meanwhile the Major was determined this time not to be rattled. He tugged on his shirt to straighten it, not knowing he was giving the impression of being uncomfortable with the Commander's questions. "Yes Sir; the Colonel ordered our unit to take the town and the heights above the town. The missile units were last reported seen on the ridge."

Commander Turner walked over, stopped and turned to face the man. There was concern on his face. "Were you worried that the operation was too ambitious for your unit, Major?"

Major Kent was not naïve enough to fall for that trap. "No Sir; the enemy units were at their strongest, probably two companies in strength. We were configured to handle anything up to battalion size. GATORFORCE was prepared and ready to take Mirbullah." He let a brief smile show, a sign to the bubblehead that his vague intel questions weren't about to rock him.

Sturgis walked away like a professor giving final question to a doctoral student in a thesis defense.

"Major, tell me about GATORFORCE."

The clean cut Marine Major leaned forward. He spoke as if lecturing a room full of recruits. "GATORFORCE was, or rather, they are, our combined AMTRAC, HMMWV, and infantry units. We have two; GATORFORCE ONE and GATORFORCE TWO. This particular operation called for support for both units from a tank section, a LAV section, a combat engineer platoon. GATORFORCE ONE was tasked with attacking the west side of Mirbullah and GATORFORCE TWO was tasked with attacking the eastern side of the town.

Commander Turner nodded thoughtfully, like a professor processing the information. "When did you know when GATORFORCE ONE was in trouble?

So it was back to intel questions again. Kent was ready for this, he'd gone over the information a hundred times after Dodge died. "When Staff Sergeant Fuller reported that Lieutenant Placer's AMTRAC had been destroyed and that GATORFORCE ONE was taking an extraordinary amount of fire."

"Did you order fire support for them?"

He had anticipated this being asked. The other JAG attorneys in the previous hearing hadn't but that had surprised him. These guys working in the Judge Advocate's office did their homework a little better…. "Artillery was out of the question based on Leftenant Prine's assessment of the situation, so I requested air support from acting HMLA platoon commander, Lieutenant Maxwell."

Now it was just the typical give and take of courtroom transcripts. Question. Answer. Question. Answer. "What was his response?"

"He told me most of his units were engaging enemy units at Objective Chicago, that is, the hill just behind Mirbullah. He said he could spare one unit."

"FIREFLY ONE." Sturgis Turner clarified.

Kent nodded. "Yes Sir; I ordered Maxwell to get Lieutenant Lukens to tear a hole in the enemy's ring around GATORFORCE ONE so that they could escape."

"What happened next, Major?"

Major Kent was becoming comfortable with Sturgis Turner's easy going questioning. "Lukens was able to disrupt the enemy's assault to the point that Lieutenant Dodge was able to help Captain Lewis and Lieutenant Hawkins to the point where they were able to rally their marines. That's when Lieutenant Lukens reported that he had been hit and that he was going down."

"Go on," prodded the Naval Commander gently.

"Lieutenant Dodge volunteered to rescue Lieutenants Lukens and Buell." Kent hoped this would end soon. He wanted to read those latest intel reports from Colonel Livingston's recon platoons.

"And from whom did you hear that Lieutenant Dodge had been shot?" asked Sturgis blandly, further lulling the Major into a relaxed state with his obvious questions.

Kent actually began to sound bored. "Captain Lewis. He notified me that it appeared that Lieutenants Lukens and Buell had somehow shot Lieutenant Dodge."

Sturgis smiled. "Somehow shot Lieutenant? You make it sound like an accident."

Harm recognized the tactic and immediately jumped on it. He lifted his head momentarily from his hand. "Objection, counsel is being subjective and leading the witness." Kent blinked as if he had been in a trance.

"Your Honor, Turner said graciously, "I was merely laying the groundwork for my arguments against the defense."

Colonel Clifford Blakely looked from Commander Rabb to Commander Turner. (This is going to be one interesting hearing….) "Sustained." Blakely gave Sturgis an admonishing look.

Sturgis nodded and acknowledged the parry of his opponent. "When did it look like something other than an accident?"

Kent was little more wary of what he was saying now, but really it too late to do anything but comply with the Commander's questions. "After Captain Lewis and Private Secord were able to make an survey of the situation, it was evident something was not right."

Mac tapped on her pad causing Harm to look down at the writing. On the pad shoved in front of him in bold block letters, he saw in her words the idea his mind was formulating. LEWIS + SECORD = DODGE'S DEATH?

Harm lifted his blue gray eyes from the pad to meet her impatient deep brown ones, for only a brief moment before, whispering 'Not yet,' to his partner and resuming his careful watch of his opponent.

Sturgis, though, was finished. He turned toward Blakely "– no further questions your Honor."

Blakely looked at the naval lawyer with aviator wings. "Commander? Your witness…."

Harm got up from his seat and approached the man in the witness box. He looked down at a piece of paper he was holding and then back at him. "Major, who else besides Captain Lewis and Private Secord got a look at Lieutenant Dodge?"

The Major seemed to think about this for a moment before answering. "Corpsman Hazon did, Commander."

Harm Rabb stopped and fixed Major Kent with a hard stare. "And what was his judgment regarding the Lieutenant?"

Sturgis was on his feet in a moment. "Objection, your Honor, hearsay."

Blakely was beginning to wish he had stayed in Washington. This was like riding two bucking broncos at the same time.

"Sustained."

Harm turned his contrite face to the judge. "Your Honor, I'm trying to establish that Major Kent also had his doubts about whether or not Lieutenant Dodge's wounds were deliberate or accidental."

It was a good try, just not good enough. Blakely was unimpressed. "You're reaching Commander, its still hearsay; stick with the facts known by Major Kent. Sustained."

Blocked by his old academy friend, the aviator/lawyer tried another avenue of approach to get the answer he wanted. "Major, were the wounds deliberate?"

"Objection."

"Your Honor, how am I supposed to argue for my clients, when I cannot even ask simple questions-"

"Counselors! Approach the bench!"

Looking like two sullen schoolboys being called into the principal's office, Sturgis and Harm approached Blakely. He covered his microphone as the two walked up.

Harm spoke up first. "Your Honor this case will go nowhere unless I'm able to ask the Major about the wounds. My clients need to know what he thought since he was there and has overall knowledge about the operation."

"Which is a very weak argument, Your Honor." Fired back Sturgis quietly, "Other witnesses who were closer to the scene can be asked this question. This is not one for this witness."

"How would you know Sturgis?" Shot back Harm with quiet venom, "Your Honor, asking Major Kent this question goes toward establishing that even someone with overall knowledge of the situation knew something was not right!"

"Gentlemen!" hissed Blakely. Harm and Sturgis glared at each other.

"Look, I'm not about to let this continue all day. Commander Turner, I hate to say this, but I would like to hear the Major's answer."

"But Your Honor-!"

"Commander, I know you feel strongly about this, but it will help move this case along and I'm sure you'll have strong rebuttal for any finding Commander Rabb may unearth."

"Yes Your Honor." Sturgis said respectfully.

He turned to Harm "Commander, ask your question, but watch yourself, you're trying my patience."

"Thank you, your Honor."

He motioned to both of them. "Now back away." As both men returned to their places, Blakely looked over at Major Kent who had watched the lawyers' fireworks with awe.

"Major, you may respond to the counselor."

"Yes Sir; the wounds that the Corpsman showed me were not entirely consistent with those fired by a pistol."

Rabb had enabled this information to get to the judge despite Sturgis Turner's best efforts. "But they did come from a nine millimeter weapon."

"Yes Sir."

Harm pressed him his point. "A weapon other than the pistols used by Lieutenants Lukens and Buell."

"Objection!" Now Sturgis was just trying to rattle Harmon Rabb. He knew it. Harm knew it, and Blakely knew it.

"Overruled," Blakely looked down at his pad as if making a notation. "Answer the question, Major."

Major Kent cut his eyes from Judge Blakely to Harmon Rabb, making sure he wasn't about to say something that would get him in trouble. "Yes Sir; the answer is yes, a weapon other than their pistols."

Defense Attorney Commander Harmon Rabb had won this round. "No further questions your Honor."

Or had he? As Harm sat down, Mac quiet nudged him. Bud Roberts was getting up from his chair. "Uh, Your Honor, redirect?"

Blakely knew that if Bud Roberts want to redirect, there had to be a good reason. "Go ahead counselor…."

Bud stood by his chair, but his question had just as much impact as if he had marched dramatically up to the witness stand. "Major Kent is it possible the Corpsman could be wrong?"

Battalion Intelligence Office Jeff Kent cleared his throat and looked at the Judge.

"…Major?" Bud prodded him.

"Major," Blakely reinforced Bud Robert's prodding.

Major Kent seemed embarrassed about his answer. "Yes Sir, the Corpsman could be wrong." he said quietly. It was obvious he was regretting letting Harmon Rabb maneuver him into his previous answer.

"That would mean that the only persons who could have fired at Lieutenant would be Lieutenants Lukens and Buell…if that were true." Bud concluded. Harm was both stunned and grudgingly proud of the Lieutenant for calling his bluff.

"Yes Sir." The Major said quietly. If he could have dug himself a hole to hide in right there in the courtroom, he probably would have done it.

Bud looked at the Judge with a no nonsense look. "No further questions your Honor."

As Bud started to sit back down, Sturgis leaned over toward him. "It would have been better if you could have invalidated the Commander's suspicions entirely, Lieutenant."

Lieutenant Roberts looked stoically at his partner. "Considering this is the first round Sir, I've kept us in the fight rather than letting us get knocked out."

-TBC…


	27. Chapter 26

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 26

36th MEU, BLT Headquarters

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Major Vincent Barnett and Captain Floyd Johnson, Legal liaisons for the 36th MEU, had watched the fireworks over Major Kent's testimony with something akin to awe. Captain Johnson leaned over to Mac.

"Ma'am, are they always like this?" he said in reference to the verbal thrusts and parries by Harm, Sturgis and Bud.

"All of us are passionate in prosecution or defense, Captain." said Mac quietly, but hoping Captain Johnson picked up on her annoyance at being excluded from the observation.

He had; the Captain looked momentarily hacked. "Sorry Ma'am, no offense, I just haven't seen you in action yet."

"Just keep your eyes peeled Captain. It'll happen soon enough."

At the prosecution table, Major Barnett observed the uneasy relationship between Commander Sturgis Turner and Lieutenant Bud Roberts. The Lieutenant had been right; if he hadn't pursued that line of questioning with Major Kent, their case could have been seriously hurt – unless that's what the Commander was hoping for. Maybe he wanted to look like a dying duck and lead Commander Rabb into an ambush. In which case, Lieutenant Roberts had jumped the gun and possibly damaged their strategy. It was impossible to tell. He idly wondered if they were this passionate out here, what were they like back at JAG Headquarters? He found himself thinking if a temporary billet ever opened there, he'd take it just for the chance to see the daily dynamics between these lawyers.

Vince Barnett went back to making notes regarding Major Kent's testimony. He was about put his pencil down when Jac Lewis was called to the witness stand.

Jac walked confidently to the front of the room, showing he was every bit the Captain of Alpha Company, 3-2 Marines, that people expected him to be.

Harm thought his walk was more like a swagger and wondered if Captain Lewis was the right man to help save his client.

Mac was also watching Lewis, thinking the same thing. There was also something… just not right about him. No matter how hard she tried, the Lieutenant Colonel could not shake that feeling about Lewis. It had first surfaced when she interviewed him about Dodge's death, then it became more pronounced when she queried about the bogus Lieutenant Colonel that had threatened her.

That feeling increased tenfold when Lewis confronted them after Colwell had been killed and Hazon injured in the riots. Mac increasingly felt like a mouse being played with…a feeling this Marine did not care for.

As Lewis started to take the oath, two officers and one non-commissioned officer quietly slipped into the room. Staff Judge Advocate for Iraq, Colonel Gordon M. Cresswell and two of his associates sat down at the back of the room.

"Are they the ones, Sir?" asked Major Amelia Stoddard.

"Yes Major," replied Cresswell keeping his eyes focused on proceedings at the front of the room. "A naval Commander, Sturgis Turner and Lieutenant Bud Roberts, also navy.

"Who's defending the Cobra crew Sir?" asked Gunnery Sergeant Haddock.

"Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. - he's a former aviator and Lieutenant Co-…Sarah …MacKenzie." he finished, sounding a little surprised.

"Do you know her Sir?" the senior enlisted man asked boldly, picking up on his Commanding Officer's reaction. He was hoping to find out why the Colonel had hesitated.

"I know 'of' her, it was a long time ago," was the terse reply. "She's turned into a good Marine and lawyer." The stony glare he gave the Gunny told the man it was better to leave this alone.

"That's good isn't Sir?" ventured Stoddard, hoping to smooth over this awkward moment.

"Major, what's good is that justice prevails. If this gunship crew is guilty then they should take their punishment. But if they aren't guilty, then Rabb and MacKenzie will get them off, I have no doubt." said the Colonel brusquely. Stoddard also fell silent, not wanting to further rile her commanding officer.

He turned to his two staff people, "Let's not disrupt these proceedings anymore than we need to. Our job is to find out what happened to the JAGMan team that was sent from BROFF Bahrain. Let's shove off people."

The three got up to leave. As they did, Cresswell looked back at the Defense team's table. It had been seven years, but there was no mistaking who the Lieutenant Colonel was. Her hair was shorter and she looked more confident than the fresh faced 2nd Lieutenant he had just missed disciplining on Okinawa. He knew she would do right by these men. Maybe someday he'd have the chance to work with her directly. He turned and followed the Gunnery Sergeant and Major out of the room.

Oblivious to what was going on in the back of the courtroom, Sturgis smiled briefly as he got up and walked to the witness chair. "Captain Lewis how long have you been with the 36th Expeditionary Unit?"

Lewis appeared a little nervous, but he nevertheless answered the question in a direct and forthright manner. "Since Operation Anaconda in March of 2002, Sir."

"And before that?" continued the former submariner.

Lewis relaxed and started to go with the flow of the questions "With the original Marine units that went into Afghanistan at Kandahar in December of 2001."

The Bubblehead wanted to get to the heart of these questions before his old academy buddy or his Marine second chair had a chance to interrupt the rhythm. "Why did you transfer from the 15th to the 36th?"

Jac Lewis understood the reason for the question. It was a valid question, many people had asked him the same thing. "The 15th was being rotated out. I knew the area and had made some local contacts. I also didn't want to leave before the job was finished. You can understand that, Sir." Sturgis nodded. Harm thought about objecting to this line of questioning but he decided that Blakely would allow it as a means of establishing the Captain's history with the unit. His blue eyes followed Sturgis Turner as he crossed in front of the man. Captain Lewis continued his story. "…I wanted to help Colonel Briggs' unit since they had already suffered some casualties at Kandahar in early December."

Harm's eyes went wide at that comment. He shot a quick surprised glance at the lady Marine who mirrored his expression. Commander Rabb picked up his pencil.

"After Anaconda, why didn't you go back to the 15th?" asked Sturgis. He casually glanced over at the aviator/lawyer who was furiously scribbling down notes. That worried the Bubblehead; he knew that meant trouble. Still, he couldn't let this break his rhythm with the witness.

Captain Lewis smiled self effacingly, seemingly unaware of Commander Turner's discomfort. "The Colonel noted how much he appreciated my help, and willingness to volunteer to stay with this unit rather than rotate out. I felt at home with the 3-2 and they felt the same about me, Sir."

Both Sturgis and Bud were surprised Harm had not barked out an objection. All that meant was that he had something much more damaging up his sleeve. Turner decided for the moment to ignore Harmon Rabb and continue his questioning. "So you transferred permanently to the 3-2?"

"Yes Sir; made it official in the fall of 2002."

That comment elicited another stunned look from Harmon Rabb, Jr. He began again to scribble furiously on the notepad in front of him. Colonel MacKenzie knew he was onto something—the question was, could it be proved?

Sturgis took his friend's hurried scribbling as a sign to move on. He shifted gears to move the testimony along before Harm dropped whatever bombshell he had. "Tell me what you saw on the 25th of March when the ambush took place in the town square."

Lewis began to recreate the scene for the JAG Corps attorney and the Marine Judge. "I had Gunnery Sergeant Sanchez near the front of GATORFORCE ONE while Lieutenant Hawkins and I stayed in the middle of the force. I heard via radio from Sanchez that Placer's AMTRAC had been knocked out. Then the Lieutenant and I saw Sergeant Ochoa's AMTRAC destroyed. It wasn't hard to figure out that they were boxing us in."

"What happened next?" Sturgis began probing again.

Jac Lewis knew what the man was looking for. "The Lieutenant and I knew if we didn't rally our force soon, that the enemy would be able to wipe us out to a man. I took control of the troops in the front part, and then tasked Lieutenant Hawkins to take command of the troops behind us and rally them. The heavy fire we were under kept us from being very successful."

"That's when Lieutenant Dodge appeared?" offered Commander Turner.

"I had called for anyone in the vicinity to help us out. Before I knew what was happening, Lieutenant Dodge had broken through the enemy's ring of troops and was helping Gunnery Sergeant Sanchez rally our Marines. Lieutenant Lukens arrived shortly thereafter."

"What happened next?" Turner turned toward his old academy buddy, as if daring him to object. Harm's steely blue eyes locked with Commander Turner's.

Lewis, oblivious to the growing combativeness between the two counselors, prattled on.

"I saw Luken's gunship take some heavy ground fire. They must've scored a lucky hit because smoke started pouring from the helicopter."

Not one to back down from a staring contest, Sturgis stayed his ground as he continued. "And Lieutenant Dodge offered to help them…."

Jac Lewis looked up for the first time to see the contest between the two. The Captain's voice took on an uncertain tone. "Yes Sir, Dodge told them he would shield them so that they could get out okay…."

"And Lieutenants Lukens and Buell used this gesture to cover their real intent-" It was a mistake reserved for a first year law student graduate – it was also designed as a gauntlet to smack across his opponent's face. Mac's eyes widened in shock and she started to open her mouth in opposition.

"Objection, Counsel is testifying." Harm said evenly, maintaining his focus on Commander Turner.

No histrionics; Sturgis had over-calculated the impact of his inflammatory comment.

Marine Judge Clifford Blakely agreed with Commander Rabb and appreciated his restraint. "Sustained."

Sturgis could have continued with little prickly questions, but it was doubtful they would advance the case very far. It was better to let Harm begin his cross-examination and discredit his information from that standpoint.

"I have no further questions of this witness." He said simply and headed to his seat. Bud threw a concerned look at his partner.

"Your witness, Commander Rabb." replied Blakely.

Harmon Rabb got up from his chair and walked slowly over to where Jac Lewis was sitting. "Captain, did you see Lieutenants Lukens or Buell shoot Lieutenant Dodge?"

Jac Lewis looked at the floor for a moment and then back at the stern looking Commander. "No Sir. But I did see the Lieutenant go down. I was checking on Gunnery Sergeant Sanchez who had been wounded, so I didn't see them fire at Dodge. Corpsman Hazon and PFC Secord did."

Harm turned back to Colonel MacKenzie and gave the briefest of nods. Mac acknowledged his nod and quickly began jotting down some hurried notes.

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

Petty Officer 1st Class Jason Tiner was working on the filing. Not the most glamorous job in the world, but if he didn't do it now, there would be hell to pay. Fortunately Gunnery Sergeant Galindez left his filing system instructions and that made the job easier. Between he and Harriet, they kept the place humming, but Tiner knew that with each passing day she was getting closer to maternity leave and that meant he'd be on his own with the filing again…not something he looked forward to. Jen helped some, but it was not her primary job.

"Let's see…," he mused to himself as he rifled through the thick folders. "Packer, Paddock, Paden, …Pitamski?"

"'I' before 'E' except after 'C', mister law school student."

Jason recognized that voice, his eyes lifted from that file he was reviewing. The man standing in front of his desk was dressed in khaki slacks and a burgundy dress shirt. Attached to the shirt pocket was the JAG Corps visitor pass.

"Gunny!" said Jason excitedly, happy to see his friend again. He reached for the Gunnery Sergeant's hand.

Victor Galindez reached out and firmly shook the Petty Officer's hand. "Looks like you're still using the ol' Galindez filing system."

Tiner came around from behind his desk. "It has its uses." said Tiner cheekily. Gunny Galindez laughed out loud and clapped him on the shoulder. They both shared a smile.

"So what are you doing here?" said Tiner, recovering and curious why the Gunny was here.

"In between assignments…I'm on…um, leave…." Tiner could tell he didn't want to talk about it. Tiner was about to change the subject when Victor beat him to the punch.

"What's with the paper parade?" he said glibly.

Jason looked slightly embarrassed. "Trying to get caught up before Lieutenant Sims goes on maternity leave again."

Victor Galindez's eyes widened at that comment. "What about rounding up volunteers from the office staff?"

"They're all busy…." said the Senior Petty Officer as he looked around at the filing disaster.

As they both stood silently for a moment looking at the task, Jennifer Coates breezed into the office carrying several stuffed inter-office mailers. "Jason, Commander Burford asked that these…Gunnery Sergeant…I'm sorry…I-" her dark pretty doe eyes darted away from both of them.

Gunny smiled sardonically at the obviously embarrassed Petty Officer. "It's okay… Petty Officer…Coates…isn't it?" Jen Coates nodded quickly. "I'm not in uniform anyway."

"Good to see you again, Gunny."

Tiner gave the two a bewildered look. Now where had they met before? "Jen? You didn't tell me you knew the Gunny."

Victor Galindez was stoic on the outside but inside, that breach in protocol meant two things; 'Back off Gunny, she's mine!' (This Squid is still possessive as ever) and 'How the hell do you two know each other?' (Jealously rears its ugly head). If Victor played this just right, it could be worth a lot.

Jen Coates spoke first. "We met, briefly, at the village where Lieutenant Roberts lost his leg. I had to go back after he was stable to get some additional information from the villagers."

Gunny picked up the story from there. "We were looking for Al-Qaeda operatives that had fled to the nearby hills. We met when I was interrogating one of the locals."

"I was asked to observe his interrogation. When we talked between sessions, he asked me about the status of the Seahawk's JAG and I told him what had happened."

"I learned what the Commander had done for her and why she was on the Seahawk."

"Oh," said Jason, deep in thought about what he had just been told. It was obvious he had been rattled. And it was about to get worse.

"Well, I'd better get back to work," said Jen moving toward the door. "Gunnery Sergeant, Petty Officer." She was just about to leave the room when Sergeant Givers breezed in "Petty Officer, Major Clemmons said – oh!"

Jen and Marla stood nose to nose for a moment. Then Jen started to shift to the left. Marla, intending to get out of her way, followed suit. Again they ended up nose to nose.

Marla smiled weakly and Petty Officer Coates did likewise.

Gunny leaned over slightly toward Jason Tiner "Do you think they'll dance with each other?"

Jason shot him a dirty look. "Sergeant, you said you had something for me from Major Clemmons?"

That broke the spell. Marla walked past Jennifer and handed him the thick folder. "Major Clemmons said you would appreciate having this." Her hand lingered a little longer than it should have. Victor noticed the predatory look that briefly crossed Jennifer Coates' face.

(Man, I miss being around here,) he thought as he watched the two women sidle past each other and leave the office.

Jason Tiner wasn't sure what to make of what just happened. He looked over at Gunnery Sergeant Galindez who was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

What?" the senior Petty Officer said defensively.

"So how long have you had two women chasing after you mister law school student?" Gunny seemed to look thoughtfully toward the bullpen where the two women were hard at work. "Maybe I should think about going to law school…it seems to have certain benefits."

"Sergeant Givers is *not* chasing me," said Tiner hotly. "She's a dedicated professional. And as for Jen—dammit—Petty Officer Coates…she's a good friend and a big asset in the office." That outburst told Victor all he needed to know about 'Jen's' status.

(I'll bet she is) thought Gunny slyly. He decided though, not to voice that thought. He had busted Jason's chops long enough.

"Look buddy, what you do is your business." said Gunny in a big brother tone. "Just don't let the Admiral see this or he'll keel-haul you."

"There's nothing to see-" Jason protested, but deep down, he knew that Gunny had him, as usual, dead to rights. At least Lieutenant Sims wasn't in here to see this.

"Fine by me Petty Officer," said Gunny dismissively. "Look, why don't we get together sometime before I leave and play a round of poker, you know you still owe me a hand from that game we played before I left for Afghanistan."

Anything was better than talking about his current problems. "Okay Gunny, I'll give you your chance, how about tomorrow night?"

Victor Galindez was surprised that Jason Tiner was so quick to want to do this. (That kid has grown some since I left…what the hell, it might be fun….) "Okay Squid you got a deal. But just to keep it from getting too competitive, why don't we make it a co-ed game."

"Co-ed? You mean boy-girl?"

"I knew those law school classes would pay off," he quipped, winking at the younger man.

"Hey I got you out of those parking tickets, didn't I?" Tiner challenged

"Yeah, and you got one yourself. Sure boy-girl. I'll bring a date and you bring one."

"Who?"

"Whichever one wins the wrestling match, Navy."

As he started to leave, Givers came back in with another packet. "It might help if you had another couple playing. I could bring along Petty Officer Brewer. I play a pretty mean poker hand…." She let the idea drift through the air between the two friendly rivals.

Tiner and Galindez looked at each other and then back at her. "Sure Givers," said Gunny nonchalantly before the Senior Petty Officer could answer, "Why not?"

"Great! She flashed both men a brilliant smile. "See you at 1930 tomorrow night, Tiner." Then in a more formal voice she acknowledged Victor. "Gunnery Sergeant." And with that, the Sergeant disappeared back into the bullpen. To anyone who watched her as she made her way back to her desk, they could easily tell she was extremely pleased with this turn of events.

Harm handled the rest of the questioning with the consummate skill that had made it obvious why he was a JAG Corps lawyer. Captain Lewis had revealed little else useful regarding what happened in Afghanistan, but he did make his clients look pretty good. That is until Sturgis Turner objected to Harm's questions. He stated that the aviator/lawyer was being prejudicial and leading the witness to speculate. Harm vigorously denied this was the case, but to no avail. With the exception of one little point in their favor, Commander Turner rendered all the previous testimony impotent.

Gunny left a few minutes earlier to go down and talk with some of his buddies in the security detachment. That gave the Senior Petty Officer the opportunity he needed.

Tiner took a deep breath and steeled himself for the task ahead. Grabbing the files he knew that Jen needed, he marched out of his office and toward her desk.

As he started to open his mouth, Harriet Sims cut in front of him. "Excuse me Tiner; Coates, do you have the travel expense reports for the first half of the year?"

Jennifer Coates glanced from her to Tiner. "No Ma'am, I needed to get one more signature from Commander Mattoni, so I gave them to Petty Officer Tiner." Harriet turned and snatched the files out of his hands. "Thank you Tiner." she said as headed over to the copier.

"You're welcome," mumbled the Senior Petty Officer to no one in particular. He was about to head back to his desk when he noticed Jen looking at him. She gave him a soft smile.

That gave him the courage to try again. As he opened his mouth – her phone started to ring. Throwing him an 'I'm sorry' look, she picked up the phone. "JAG Corps Headquarters, Petty Officer Coates speaking…."

"Petty Officer, do you have a moment?" It was Sergeant Givers.

Tiner sighed; he'd have to try again later. He turned to face her. "Sure Sergeant, what do you have on your mind?"

"Well, it has to do with the Dodge case…." She walked back to her desk with him following. She started to reach for the file on her desk, which conveniently fell onto the floor. She immediately squatted down to reach for it as did he.

"I've got it," she declared unnecessarily.

"Uh, here, you missed one…." He handed the paper to her. Her green eyes looked onto his blue ones.

"Um, Petty Officer, do you think maybe sometime-"

Jason Tiner's hand on her arm silenced her before she could continue any further. He knew what she was asking. "Uh, Sergeant? Tha- that's not a good idea."

They both stood up. Marla turned away disgusted. "I figured as much…."

It had been a long afternoon. While the information that Jac Lewis had provided was interesting, the majority of it was inconsequential and had little if any bearing on the case. Harm was anxious to get this over with. He wanted to check with Coates about the good Captain's background – but first they had to wind up their questioning. Harmon Rabb nodded to Colonel MacKenzie as a signal to take over.

"Your Honor, Colonel MacKenzie will finish the cross."

"Proceed Colonel." answered Blakely.

Mac got up from her seat. "Thank you, your honor; Captain Lewis in all your observations of these men, Lieutenant Dodge, Lieutenants Lukens and Buell, did you ever see anything to suggest that the Lieutenant had a pattern of violence with Lieutenant Dodge?"

Bud made a notation on his pad. "Objection, your honor; Counsel is calling for a conclusion." He was trying to head off where she was trying to go with this line of questioning.

Mac looked over at the Judge. Exasperation lined her delicate features.

Clifford Blakely eyed Bud Roberts sternly. "Overruled; Captain, I'd like to hear what you have to say - you may answer this question."

Captain Lewis cleared his throat. "No Ma'am, not until their fight the night before Lieutenant Dodge's death."

Mac looked up at the Judge, "No further questions-"

Before Colonel Blakely could dismiss the Marine Captain, Sturgis Turner stood.

"Your Honor, if I may?"

Blakely nodded. "Proceed, Commander."

The submariner/lawyer didn't even bother approaching the bench. He stood by his seat.

"Captain is it true that several who witnessed the fight, heard Lieutenant Lukens say and I quote 'I'll blow you away, the next chance I get' end quote?"

"Objection!" Harm stood, trying to plug the leak. Mac had been totally unprepared for that move by Harm's old academy friend.

Blakely's features were impassive. "Overruled."

"Captain?" prodded Commander Turner.

Jac Lewis became defensive. "Yes; he said that, but it was said in the heat of the moment-"

But Sturgis Turner had him right where he wanted him. "Even though the defendant did not get along with the victim and had widely made it known he did not like Lieutenant Dodge."

Lewis was quiet. Buell and Lukens had their eyes locked on the Captain, as did both the prosecution and defense teams.

Colonel Blakely looked over at the man. "Captain Lewis, you will answer the question."

Lewis' features fell in defeat. Mac felt a sickening lurch in her stomach. Harm's face was frozen in disbelief. "I didn't think it would go that far…." said Lewis, crestfallen. "Tensions are always high before an operation-"

Sturgis pounced on that juicy tidbit. "And you ignored the previous incidents-"

Lewis' response was harsh. "Commander, we don't have to love each other; we just have to be able to function together as a team. I figured it would work itself out-"

"I believe it did Captain," said the Bubblehead with smug satisfaction. The aviator/lawyer started to object but Sturgis cut him off. "No further questions, your Honor."

1821 Local

Camp Chesty Puller

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Lieutenant Colonel Darcy Livingston was sitting at her desk, when she heard the knock at her door.

"Come."

Jac Lewis stepped inside and stood by the circular logo on her wall that read MARINE EXPEDITIONARY UNIT – SPECIAL OPERATIONS COMMAND: DETACHMENT TWO. His face was expressionless. She closed her laptop and looked up at the Marine Captain.

He began smiling.

Darcy laughed. "Cher, that was beautiful…."

"Yeah I got sympathy and disgust at the same time." he said sitting down in front of her. "That should poke a big hole in their defense of those two gunship jockeys."

"While you look like the poor Captain who was hoodwinked by these thugs." She pulled a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses out of her desk.

"Yeah, it looks bad for them, but let's not celebrate just yet." She stopped short of pouring each of them a drink and stared at him.

"What do you mean Cher?"

Jac's eyes narrowed. "This hearing's not over with yet and I want to keep an eye on that Commander Rabb and that partner of his, MacKenzie. See what your contacts can find out about them…."

Bachelor Officer Quarters

Camp Chesty Puller

Bud sat on the edge of his bed, his laptop open and running. He scanned down through the file of information in his laptop about this case. He couldn't even look Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie in the eye as they left the courtroom this afternoon. It had been an intensive day of testimony. He hated that Commander Turner had to damage Commander Rabb's case the way he did, but he rationalized it as being like two football players on opposite teams who got caught up in the heat of the moment. Still, he didn't want to think about the look of utter defeat that lined their faces. He also didn't want to think about the stunned looks of that Cobra gunship crew as they were led out of the courtroom.

He pulled up his copy of the JAGMan report that Colonel MacKenzie had given to him earlier. Bud read the executive summary of the report again, and then looked at the notes made by Admiral Chegwidden about the case irregularities.

The Lieutenant paged through the report again, figuring that Commander Rabb or Colonel MacKenzie would try to use this information sooner or later. As Bud Roberts started to read through the report again, something clicked – or in this case, struck him as odd.

He clicked on the previous page and found the paragraph he had been looking for. Bud grabbed his writing pad and made a few notes, and then clicked to advance to the next page. As he read through it, his face registered surprise. Bud stopped reading and glanced at his watch. It was possible she might still be there. He had to try, anyway.

Bud Roberts pulled out his cell phone and began dialing the number he found in his witness folder. The phone clicked as it made the connection. It only rang twice before

a female voice picked up.

"This is Lieutenant Commander Lexington…."

"Ma'am, this is Lieutenant Bud Roberts, JAG Corps."

Her voice was strained but cordial. "Lieutenant, what can I do for you?"

Bud was careful not to sound disrespectful or rude, but at the same time get the point across that he needed her help. "Ma'am I need to ask you about the JAGMan team you sent to Mirbullah…."

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

"I figured that's why you were calling, Lieutenant," she finally said.

Bud looked down at his backlit laptop screen and placed his finger by the information about the head of the JAGMan team, Captain Willis Branch, USMC. Written in AJ Chegwidden's familiar handwriting were the charges – tampering with evidence, altering official documents and obstruction of a criminal investigation.

Lieutenant Bud Roberts ventured forth cautiously. "Ma'am, did Captain Branch give you any indication prior to the investigation in Mirbullah that he had a pattern of altering evidence?"

Lieutenant Commander Lexington seemed slightly annoyed and tired. "Captain Branch had been my chief investigator for nearly four years; he was up for promotion to Major next month. Until Mirbullah, his record was exemplary…."

Bud made a quick note on his pad about the Captain being up for promotion. That was definitely a reason *not* to throw away one's career.

"What about Lieutenant Burns, Ma'am?" questioned Bud. "Did she have a history of threatening clients and witnesses?"

He had moved his finger down to the listing for Lieutenant Felicia Burns, USN. She was charged with intimidating and threatening witnesses and several counts of assault.

Commander Lexington apparently worked hard on stripping the tiredness and annoyance out of her voice, because her answer this time sounded more like Lieutenant Commander Lexington rather than a tired and overworked military bureaucrat. "Lieutenant Roberts, Lieutenant Burns was a frank, but courteous officer. She was dedicated and efficient. She was not the type to use bullying tactics."

Bud was appreciative of her demeanor; he knew if he were in her place he'd have a hard time doing what she was doing without sounding defensive. "Thank you Ma'am, and what about Lieutenant Seaforth?"

His finger stopped at Lieutenant, j.g. Carmen Seaforth, USN. She was charged with sexual misconduct. She was not a ravishing beauty, but she was by no means homely.

"The charges against her are a complete mystery to me. Lieutenant Seaforth came from Pearl highly recommended. She was shy and quiet, but did her job. To my knowledge, she's never done anything like this before."

The former Public Affairs officer for the Seahawk knew Commander Lexington was probably growing more irritated by the moment, but he had one more question to ask. "Any ideas on what might have happened Ma'am?"

Her response was unusually strong. "Lieutenant what those three did was completely out of character and I'm still dumbfounded by what happened; however they were under my command and I take full responsibility for what happened." Maybe she felt guilty about what happened and then again, maybe it was something else.

Bud decided now was not the time to broach this. If the hearing demanded a trial, he would go interview her and the JAGMan team. Right now this would have to do. "Yes Ma'am I understand…."

"Is there anything else, Lieutenant?" She was trying to be polite, but it came off sounding forced.

Bud understood it was time to end this conversation. No sense in ticking off a senior officer. "No Ma'am; thank you for your time."

"Goodbye Lieutenant." She had meant it to sound friendly, but her fatigue and stress level did not let it come out that way.

"Goodbye Ma'am." Said Bud soberly.

As Bud Roberts disconnected the line, Commander Sturgis Turner walked into the room.

"Calling your wife Lieutenant?" he said good-naturedly.

"Uh no Sir; Harriet called earlier." The Lieutenant knew what his next question would be.

"Who were you calling?"

"The Officer in Charge at the Naval Legal Service Branch Office in Bahrain, Lieutenant Commander Lexington."

"I see…." he replied in a thoughtful tone.

Bud hoped Sturgis Turner understood why he did this. "Commander, it just doesn't add up…."

"What doesn't, Lieutenant?" replied Commander Turner warily.

"The first investigative team sent to look into Lieutenant Dodge's death-"

The Bubblehead was quick to interrupt. "Lieutenant, are you planning on defending them?"

Now it was Bud Roberts' turn to be thoughtful. "Well Sir, I'm not sure, I think I might ask the Admiral if I could…."

Sturgis crossed his arms. "Do you really think they are innocent?"

"I talked to their Commanding Officer," Bud quickly explained. "she called their service exemplary-up to Mirbullah."

"Why are you talking to her Lieutenant?" Commander Turner asked sternly.

The Lieutenant decided honesty was the best route. "In case Commander Rabb or Colonel MacKenzie brought up what happened with them during the trial-"

The former submariner held up his hand. "This wouldn't be because you feel Lieutenants Lukens and Buell are innocent, would it?"

Bud looked down at his laptop and then back at the Commander. "Well Sir, it does seem there is a pattern-"

Sturgis Turner's hard brown eyes drilled into Bud Roberts. "Lieutenant, you need to decide where your loyalties lie, or I will have to report you to Admiral Chegwidden."

-TBC…


	28. Chapter 27

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 27

1800 Local

36th MEU, BLT Headquarters

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Harm held the door to the BLT Headquarters building open as Mac passed through. As they left the building, they returned the salute of two junior officers who passed them on the sidewalk.

"Maac…." Harm began earnestly.

"I don't want to talk about it, Commander," she turned and gave him a cold stare. "not out here."

"What did you want me to do?" Harm said picking up on his cue. He raised his voice in exasperation. "Tell them Captain Lewis was lying?"

Her eyes twinkled, letting him know not to pay attention to the voice that dripped icicles. "You could have warned me that *Bubblehead* was going to pull something like this."

Harm added the appropriate amount of defensiveness to his next comment "That *Bubblehead* happens to be *my friend*! And anyway, you should have been better prepared!" he added for good measure.

Mac had to admit that hit a little close to home and if he had said that to her in any other context, his teeth would be lying on the ground next to his helmet.

She stopped short causing him to stumble. "Don't you *ever* call me unprepared, Commander! Not when your *supposed* to be the lead attorney on a case!"

"Fine! I would have *really* appreciated your help with this, but since you *think* I'm *ill prepared*, I'll just handle the whole case myself!" Harm winked at her before he turned around and 'stalked' off.

"Great I'm sure you'll do an excellent job getting them a death sentence!" she barked after him. She stood there for a moment watching Harmon Rabb, jr. from a rear view. No doubt about it, the Commander wore his fatigues well. (Get your head back in the game, MacKenzie) she was quick to chastise her wandering mind. Continuing her act, she stormed into her building and shut the door with a bang.

Colonel Livingston's aide, Corporal Richards, watched the whole scene with rapt attention. He had to tell his boss about this. He quickly made his way over Colonel Livingston's office.

As Richards made a bee line for Livingston's quarters, he did not notice Harmon Rabb surreptitiously following him. The Corporal knocked once before entering the building.

Harm looked at his watch, noting when he went in. Twenty minutes later, a smiling Corporal Richards exited the building. Harm too, was smiling, but not for the same reason.

Mac was sitting at her desk looking her case notes, when she heard a sharp rapping on her door.

"Who is it?"

"It's me Mac, let me in."

She quickly went to the door and opened it. "Did anyone see you?" she asked unnecessarily.

Harm pushed his way in. "No, but someone took our bait."

"Who?" asked Mac, her curiosity piqued.

"Corporal Devin Richards, Force Recon." said Harm pulling up a chair next to Mac's desk. "He made contact with Colonel Livingston."

Mac grew excited. "Did you see him talk to her?"

"No, he just entered her building and then left again." He could see she was disappointed. "But it was *her office* Mac." he insisted.

The Marine attorney rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Harm, you didn't see him make actual contact with her. Right now all we've got is circumstantial evidence."

"She's guilty Mac." The tall Commander said firmly, crossing his arms.

She knew that look. She'd seen him do it a thousand times. It was his 'I'm right and you know it' look.

Mac sighed; she wasn't going to win this one. Looking at his defiant stance, made her smile at his stubbornness. "Okay Flyboy, maybe she is, but we need to catch her with him. I still think it's Lewis and Secord; Lewis is the one who blew us out of the water this afternoon."

"I'm not saying they aren't part of this," he clarified.

Mac stood up facing him. "That's crazy talk, Navy. Why would a career soldier like Livingston throw it all away just to frame a gunship crew?" Mac emphasized her point throwing her arms up and out.

"Because it's a cover for something bigger, Marine." He said passionately.

Mac turned away from him, arms crossed. "So how are they tied together Harm? We need some solid evidence…."

Harm walked over to her whiteboard. On it was a rough sketch of the square where Lieutenant Dodge was killed and X's indicating the positions of Captain Lewis and the other witnesses. "It's here Mac, we're just missing it somehow…. He looked over at her suddenly. "When does Secord go on the stand?"

"Near the end…." She turned around and looked at him looking at the board, curious about where this was leading. "What are you thinking Commander?"

"Secord is the key, Jarhead," said Harm lost in thought, then looking up and giving her a quick smile. "We turn him, and we open chain of evidence that will lead to Lieutenant Colonel Livingston."

Mac smiled back at him, shaking her head. "Okay Counselor, I'm intrigued. Tell me how me how we go about it?" She moved over to the board where the aviator/lawyer was standing.

Harm felt her heat as she moved closer, but now was not the time for him to…(Focus, Hammer, focus…) he quickly uncapped the felt tip pen and began scribbling on the board. "I'm glad you asked Marine, here's the plan…."

0515 Local

Camp Chesty Puller

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Mac uncharacteristically yawned as she entered the Officer's mess in the pre-dawn hours of the morning.

They had been up half the night going over what went wrong that day, and how to turn Secord. Captain Lewis, at worst, was supposed to be a neutral witness to the case. But that all changed when the good Captain reported that he had heard Lukens threaten to kill Dodge. In an instant, Harm and Mac's portrait of the Cobra gunship crew being caught up in the fog of war was shattered. So now they pinned their hopes on getting Secord to break on the stand.

Today they would begin working on damage control. That brought back an unpleasant memory.

A few years back, she and Commander Turner had been defending Lieutenant Reynolds, the SEAL charged with killing that Sheriff's deputy, when Harm and Manetti had delivered a fatal blow to the case, Commander Turner had asked her a similar question…

_You want to try to re-direct? Repair the damage? _

_How do you patch the Titanic?_

As she chewed over this depressing thought, Mac picked up her tray and entered the line of men and women waiting for breakfast. The Sergeant serving breakfast took her tray and filled it up with eggs, steak, hash browns, sausage, and bacon. Some in the line had expected her to flinch at the greasy food dumped on her plate. Instead, the pretty Lieutenant Colonel's stomach growled ravenously, loud enough for everyone in the line, and for the Sergeant to hear.

Mac merely smiled sleepily at the astonished server. "Didn't have much for dinner last night…."

"Yeah…sure," he said in stunned voice as he pointed toward the far end of the line. "Coffee's down there…."

Getting a steaming cup of jet black coffee, the Marine attorney made her way to an empty table, sat down and began eating.

Several junior officers sitting a few tables over watched incredulously as Mac began demolishing the food piled on her plate.

"My God," whispered the 2nd Lieutenant to his buddy sitting next to him, "have you ever seen anyone else that eats like her?"

"Once," he answered distractedly as he watched her, "she was a weight lifter that I dated for a while…."

"Where does she put it all?" asked a 1st Lieutenant sitting with them.

"One of the Corporals told me he thinks she has a tapeworm-"

"Stow it, here comes her partner…." All eyes in O-mess turned from Mac to Harm, as he entered the building. Harm looked at the eyes staring at him and gave them a wry smile.

As he made his way over to the server, the Commander looked down at the Sergeant. "Eggs and toast, if you don't mind. Where is the oatmeal?"

The Sergeant looked disgustedly at him and dumped a large wet glob onto his plate "Anything else?" he asked pointedly.

Harm didn't seem to notice the man's irritation. He scanned the immediate area. "Where's the -"

"Down at the end of the line." The Sergeant pointed to where he had sent Mac earlier.

Harm gave him a wry smile as well. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." The Sergeant said noncommittally.

"Oh man, get ready for the fireworks to fly…." hissed the 2nd Lieutenant, as Harm made his way over to the table where she was sitting. The other two peered cautiously over at the lady Marine and the approaching ex-Top Gun.

Mac looked up from her plate to see the aviator/lawyer standing there watching her.

"You might want to slow down, because you might accidentally eat that plate if you're not careful." He quipped trying to brighten her morning.

Holding her fork over her food, she regarded him with cool disinterest.

His smile faded. "Okay look; how about a truce? We are supposed to be on the same side, you know…."

She motioned to the seat beside her. He gave her a nervous smile and sat down. It seemed every set of eyes in the tent were focused on them. However, he didn't have time right now to worry about what they were thinking. They had a scene to play out that Mac had initiated – or he hoped she had initiated

"Thanks." He said quietly.

"Uh huh."

He looked over at her plate of greasy meat and made sick looking face. "Is that good?"

Lieutenant Colonel McKenzie continued shoveling food into her mouth. "Uh huh."

"Are you going to say anything besides 'uh huh'?"

Mac regarded the man for the briefest of moments before winking at him. "Nuh uh."

He smiled. "Ha, ha Marine, very funny."

"Don't question whether or not I'm prepared to defend my client." she said without preamble and then continued to eat.

"You insulted my friend." Harm said as justification for his actions. While he was facing Mac, he could tell several nearby were clearly interested in what they were saying to each other.

Mac said her answer loud enough for everyone else to hear. "You forget, he's my friend too, but right now he's my opponent."

Harm looked at her and grinned. "You're enjoying this aren't you?" he said quietly enough for just her to hear.

"Sparring with you? Every single minute, Commander." She returned just as quietly. Mac grinned back at him.

Harm just shook his head.

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

Evening was descending on the Washington DC area and the bullpen staff was beginning to thin out. Jason Tiner had tried at least six times that afternoon to talk to Jennifer Coates, but each time something had prevented him from asking her out. He was beginning to think it just wasn't meant to be.

Sighing heavily, he prepared to shut down his computer for the day.

As he selected the shutdown option on his menu, the door to the Admiral's office opened and AJ Chegwidden, briefcase and cover in hand, looked over the young petty officer.

"Good night Tiner," said Chegwidden.

"Good night Admiral…." the dejected, wistful tone in Tiner's voice caused the Admiral to pause on his way out of the man's office.

"Petty Officer, is there something wrong?" AJ inquired looking curiously at him.

Tiner stood up. "Uh, no Sir," his eyes faltered under the stern gaze of his commanding officer. "…well Sir, I am a little depressed."

Admiral Chegwidden was not normally one to pry into the personal lives of the men and women under him, but over the years in working with Jason Tiner, he felt a grudging pride and admiration at how the petty officer had grown and matured.

"I'm stopping at Benzinger's for dinner before I head home," Chegwidden said in an unusually compassionate voice, "Would you care to join me?"

"I have exams in the morning. I should be studying, Sir." said Jason picking up his backpack, "Can I take a rain check Admiral?"

AJ nodded thoughtfully. "Sure Tiner," His gruff voice returned. "Well, goodnight."

"Goodnight Sir." returned Jason.

As AJ started into the bullpen, Harriet Sims came bustling into the Petty Officer's office.

"Good night Admiral," said Harriet casually as she made her way to Tiner's desk.

"Good night Harriet," returned the Admiral as he made his way over to the elevator.

Harriet turned to watch her Commanding Officer get on board and felt a pang of remorse for the man. This last year had been hard on all of them, but it seemed to take the most out of AJ Chegwidden. Obviously Meredith Cavanaugh wasn't around or he would not have invited Jason to dinner.

She would have asked if he wanted her company, but this report was due on his desk by the end of the week and she wanted to get it done early as a present to him. She remembered how he had taken her to dinner several times while she was pregnant with little AJ. She'd make sure she was available the next time he wanted company for dinner. She turned back to face Jason.

"Here's your part of the report," she said handing him the document, "I need it by close of business Thursday."

"Sure," said Jason listlessly. He took the report and put it on the top of his 'in' pile.

Harriet could see Tiner was down. "What's the matter, is something wrong?"

Jason's eyes met hers. "On no Ma'am," he said stoically. "I just have a lot on my mind right now."

"I see," said the Lieutenant thoughtfully. She came over to his desk and picked up the report. "Oh darn it," she said with irritation.

"What's the matter Ma'am?" said Jason becoming concerned, as she paged through the report.

"I—I didn't get a section I needed from Coates, and I have to pick up little AJ in twenty minutes-"

"I'll take care of it, Lieutenant," said Jason Tiner suddenly sounding more chipper. "You go and pick up your son; I'll take care of this, Ma'am."

"Thank you Petty Officer," as Harriet turned to head back to her desk, a satisfied smile crossed her lips.

1031 Local

36th MEU, BLT Headquarters

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Tuesday, 1 July 2003

Bud looked through his notes again. Luckily, he had been able to convince Commander Turner that despite what it looked like, he had contacted Lieutenant Commander Lexington to find more evidence for the prosecution's case.

Sturgis Turner had been reluctant to believe him at first, but Bud stood by his claim and eventually the Commander agreed it was a sound strategy – especially in light of the fact that Harmon Rabb would probably contact her soon. Better to have the ammunition now, rather than having to scrounge for it later.

Now Sturgis was getting ready to question Captain Lewis' executive officer, Lieutenant Jim Hawkins, about what he'd seen the morning Lieutenant Dodge was killed. He had just finished swearing him in. The former submariner didn't waste any time with niceties.

"Lieutenant Hawkins, what were your orders?"

Clean cut 2nd Lieutenant Jim 'Treasure' Hawkins stole a brief glance at the pretty Marine Lieutenant Colonel before firing his answer back at the prosecuting attorney.

"To clear the village square and the western side of the town of enemy troops, Sir."

"What did you see after Lieutenants' Dodge and Lukens arrived?"

"It was pretty chaotic, Sir; the enemy was firing from every building around the square – Lieutenant Dodge did his best to help rally GATORFORCE ONE and Lieutenant Lukens did his best to disrupt the enemy shooters."

Sturgis stood directly in front of the man. "Did you see Lieutenant Lukens or Buell fire on Lieutenant Dodge?"

Hawkins was all business. "No Sir, I was trying to rally my Marines. It was Private Secord who alerted me that Lieutenant Dodge had been shot."

Harm made another notation on his notepad.

The rest of the morning was spent examining in excruciating detail the sequence of events leading to Dodge's death. If this were a television show, a viewer would have turned it off hours ago, complaining about the lack of drama. However, with each review of the timeline of events, Harm gleaned a little more information that he hadn't had previously. Occasionally he would slide his notepad over to Mac with a point circled or phrase underlined for emphasis. Mac, for her part would ever so slightly turn her head and let her partner know she agreed with him. Lukens and Buell sat stoically in their seats as they had been instructed to.

Sturgis walked over to the witness stand where Lieutenant Steve Maxwell [aka The Blue Max], acting commander of HMLA-975, sat waiting for his question.

"Lieutenant Maxwell, why didn't you order anyone else to help Lieutenant Lukens?"

It was a question that had to be asked. If he didn't, Harm would and he wanted to knock out the possibility that the Commander could turn his witness. Even if this was a minor point in the case. Sturgis Turner wasn't taking any chances.

Maxwell shifted himself as he composed his answer. "The truth is Sir, his was the only gunship available. The rest of the unit was engaged against the enemy armor spread out on objective Chicago – we were engaged in pretty fierce slugfest with the Iraqi armor."

The former submariner moved closer to the blond haired officer. "Did you know what was going on at the ambush site?" (Gotta close this seacock before Harm exploits it…) thought Sturgis as he finished asking the question. He saw that his instincts were right. Harmon Rabb's eyes flared briefly before his passive mask returned. (Bingo! Got'cha Ace!)

Steve Maxwell looked at the naval Commander and then out at the Cobra crew. "Yes Sir, but I had Lieutenant Lukens' assurances that FIREFLY ONE could handle it."

Sturgis Turner looked over at Judge Blakely. "No further questions, you're honor." He walked back over to his table and sat down.

Mac stood. "Lieutenant Maxwell, before this time, how much experience did you have commanding the 975th?"

"Objection your honor; this is immaterial," said Bud from his seat.

Mac focused on Blakely, ignoring her fellow JAG Corps' officer. "Goes toward establishing the witness' depth of knowledge with command situations-"

"Your Honor, I don't see where knowing Lieutenant's command experience will help her clients," added Sturgis. But he knew what the Judge was going to say.

"Overruled." Blakely turned to the HMLA acting commander.

Maxwell looked at her with a look akin to fear. "Well Ma'am, not much-"

Mac pounced on this like a cat attacking a string being trailed in front of its face. "Not much? How little is 'not much' Lieutenant?"

"Objection your Honor, said Sturgis heatedly rising from his chair, "Counsel is clearly badgering the witness!"

"Sustained." He shot the Lieutenant Colonel a warning look.

Mac acknowledged the Colonel's stern look. "My apologies Lieutenant."

Maxwell silently accepted her request for forgiveness. "Your Honor, I'd like to answer her question, if you don't mind."

Sturgis stood again. "Your Honor-"

Blakely held up his hand and silenced the naval Commander. He looked over at the acting commander. "Why do you want to do this, Lieutenant?"

"Because it's the right thing to do your Honor," he said looking directly at Mac. Her face softened a little.

Behind her, Harmon Rabb began smiling. (You win a war one battle at a time, no matter how small.) He thought as he listened to the Lieutenant admit his lack of experience may have lead to a mistake in sending FIREFLY ONE into that fray by itself.

1100 Local

36th MEU, BLT Headquarters

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Now Harm was taking over, trying to prove his point that the bullets that killed Dodge could not have possibly come from either Lukens or Buell's gun.

Mac watched as Harm reached for the empty Beretta M-92F parabellum pistol. Her eyes widened as she remembered the last time the Commander had used a weapon in a case to prove a point.

"Harm…don't you think maybe, um…I should, you know, do this?" she hoped he would understand her asking without having to explain herself.

Harm gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry Marine," he said confidently, "It's not loaded."

"That's what you thought last time," she said quietly. The former Top Gun's raised eyebrows spoke volumes. He looked down at the gun like it had turned into a snake. Then he gave a nervous chuckle.

"C'mon Mac, ballistics emptied the weapon before it was brought in here," he said as if he trying to convince himself as well as her that there was nothing to worry about, "and besides," he managed to quip, "that isn't Admiral Morris up there." Secretly he was relieved that the Morris had let Blakely come instead.

Mac smirked. "Well for your sake, you'd better hope they did. Now is not the time to shoot off a gun in the courtroom."

Harm threw her a disgusted look which only made her smile grow wider. Turning away from her, he faced the bench.

Clifford Blakely's eyes narrowed when he saw that Harmon Rabb, not Sarah MacKenzie was going to present the evidence about the gun. "Commander," intoned the Judge menacingly, "Please approach the bench."

Not looking back at a probably smiling Marine attorney, Harm calmly walked up to the bench. Blakely held his hand over the microphone as the two talked.

"Commander, I'm hoping you have emptied the magazine of this particular weapon."

Harm unconsciously looked down at the gun and then back at Colonel Blakely. "Uh, Yes, Your Honor. I *promise* you this weapon won't discharge in your courtroom."

Mac had to fight to keep from letting a laugh from crossing her lips; she knew what the Judge was asking him.

Mac's merriment died when Lieutenant Buell leaned over toward her and asked innocently, "Ma'am? Why are you and the Judge so concerned about the Commander holding a gun?"

She decided that discretion in this case truly was the better part of valor – especially where Harmon Rabb was concerned.

"There is always concern about bringing a weapon into the courtroom." She lied effortlessly, "The Commander wouldn't do it unless he needed to prove a point."

"That's not the way I heard it," chuckled the Cobra pilot.

Colonel MacKenzie turned in her chair and pinned Lukens with a withering glare. "Just what exactly did you *hear* Lieutenant?"

"That the good Commander shot up a courtroom with the loaded Heckler & Koch MP5N submachine gun when he was trying to make a point-" the smirk faded from his face.

"Well since he intends to point it at you, you'd better hope he has unloaded it, Lieutenant." That part wasn't true, but at this point Mac didn't care. She wanted the man to squirm even if they were supposed to be defending him.

"Do it carefully, Commander." Blakely warned.

The aviator/lawyer flashed a sardonic grin at the stern Judge. "Like my life depended on it, Your Honor."

"It just might," rumbled Blakely ominously. Looking skeptical, Blakely waved the Commander away from the bench. "All right then, back away."

Harm swallowed nervously and nodded his understanding. He turned back to the courtroom and carefully raised the weapon.

Out in the audience, Brigadier General Cody Thornton leaned over to Ashton Briggs. "Why is the Judge so nervous about Rabb holding that weapon. Isn't it a piece of evidence?"

Ashton turned to his Commander with a look of 'you're kidding, right'? however, knowing better, he didn't voice that. Instead he opted for the more diplomatic comment. "Begging your pardon Cody, but didn't you read through the Commander's file?"

The General had the good sense to look somewhat perplexed and maybe a little annoyed. "I skimmed the highlights; he's had an interesting career so far…." He had apparently skipped over the part about the Commander shooting off a gun during Chief Petty Office Connor's court martial now almost eight years ago.

"That's putting it mildly," said Ashton dryly. "Let's just say Commander Rabb's track record with weapons in court is *not* very encouraging."

Cody Thornton was slightly confused at that statement; nevertheless, he didn't let it show as he settled back in his seat.

Mac leaned over toward the man and hissed menacingly. "Lieutenant, you would do well to remember that Commander Rabb is your defense counsel and is your best bet- in fact your only bet- for getting out of this unscathed. Because if it was up to me, I'd plead you guilty just because of your attitude."

"Ma'am does that include me?" asked an obviously shocked Buell.

Mac softened temporarily, "No Lieutenant," giving him a sympathetic smile, "I would get you off on a technicality." Buell caught her meaning and looked sadly at his senior officer.

She turned back to Lukens, her voice ice cold. "I suggest that you remain silent unless spoken to and have more respect for your defense counsel. Do you read me?"

"Loud and clear Ma'am." replied the humbled Lieutenant quietly.

-TBC…


	29. Chapter 28

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 28

1300 Local

36th MEU, BLT Headquarters

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Sturgis slowly walked up to the witness chair, looking thoughtfully at the man. He seemed to smile admiringly at Gunnery Sergeant Andrew Dyess. "Masters of the Iron Horse…."

The senior noncommissioned officer in Lieutenant Borden's Slugger unit moved forward in his chair when he was addressed. He smiled slightly at the positive friendly tone in Commander Turner's voice. "Yes Sir."

"And how long have you been with the 'Masters of the Iron Horse', Gunny?" asked the naval Commander.

"Almost ten years, Sir."

Harm sat watching Sturgis build up this man who had the power to sink his and Mac's defense of Lieutenants Lukens and Buell. The aviator/lawyer stroked the tip of his chin as an internal debate raged on whether or not he should call an end to this ego caressing session, but if he did, would it really do any good?

Mac leaned over and tapped his arm, interrupting his internal conversation.

"Harm," she hissed trying not to draw too much attention from the court proceedings "aren't you going to raise an objection? He's killing us."

The former Top Gun took his eyes off the proceedings for the briefest of moments to address her concerns. "It's six of one, a half dozen of another Mac," he returned quietly as he resumed his observation of Sturgis' questioning. "I could stop this, but it really wouldn't do much good – it's better this way. I'm giving him just enough rope to hang himself."

Mac gave her partner a bewildered look. "You give him anymore rope and he'll be able to hang us too,"

Harm's face scrunched up in irritation at that comment, but he decided not to argue the point. He wanted to concentrate on just how far to let the Bubblehead go before puncturing his balloon. For his part, Sturgis Turner was plowing ahead.

"Gunny, tell me what you saw that morning, the morning of 25 March."

"Yes Sir; we were beginning our screen so that Captain Lewis' company could begin their cordon search of the south side of the city…Lieutenant Borden had us providing muscle for Sergeant Fuller's LAV platoon, which was scouting for the enemy."

"What happened next, Gunny?" prodded Sturgis. Harm watched the two carefully.

Dyess focused on the former submariner. "Our intel didn't tell us there was anybody occupying the hills outside of town. We came under heavy enemy fire."

"From the hills just beyond the town." spelled out the Bubblehead for the benefit of those in the courtroom.

"Yes Sir," affirmed the Gunnery Sergeant. "The Iraqis had put a reinforced tank platoon on hill one-two-one. I had taken the lead with Sergeant Fuller's LAVs and was scouting for the enemy when they opened fire on us."

"Who's 'us' Gunny?" Sturgis Turner wanted to be sure he didn't leave any openings for Harm or Mac.

"Sorry Sir," said Dyess quickly and then fell back into a more relaxed tone. "'Us' means my crew, the crew of Slugger Five."

Mac made a couple of notations on her question's list based on this information. Harm meanwhile continued to carefully watch Dyess' facial expressions. The aviator/lawyer flexed his right hand unconsciously as it rested on the arm of his chair.

"What happened then?" asked Sturgis

"They hit us with a lucky shot, tore the tread right off; instant m-kill Sir."

"M-kill Gunny?" asked Sturgis, again more for the stenographer's clarification, rather than for anyone else in the room.

"Yes Sir; mobility kill."

"So you were immobilized," summarized the Naval Commander, as he walked slowly away from the witness stand.

"He's stating the obvious," grumbled Mac as she made another note on her question list.

"Patience, Marine," Harm said evenly.

"Yes Sir, we couldn't move, but we could shoot—took out the tank that hit us and an enemy personnel carrier that was parked next to him."

"What happened next, Gunny?" asked Sturgis, smiling paternally at the man.

"Seeing I was dead in the water on top of that hill, Sir, Lieutenant Borden told me to assume over watch for the rest of the unit from that position - while he called for a tank retriever."

"So you could see the whole square from that vantage point?" asked Sturgis, sounding like he was genuinely curious, instead of trying to make a point in a case.

"Yes Sir. And pretty much the whole south side of the town, Sir. Since it was just before daybreak, I used my night vision goggles to keep an eye on our units entering the town."

"And what did you see?"

"I saw the recon scouts moving around the square, and then the infantry and AMTRACs from GATORFORCE ONE moved in. That's when the ambush was sprung…."

"Go on," said Sturgis

"Well Sir, all hell broke loose – the enemy took out the lead and rear vehicles, and then began eliminating those trapped in the middle. They had them stuck good – it was worse than a turkey shoot. We commenced harassing fire, but it didn't faze 'em."

"You could not get the enemy forces to shift their fire."

"No Sir, but it wasn't from a lack of trying."

"Gunny, you were more than 2000 yards away, how could you see what was going on?" Sturgis asked the logical question.

"My field glasses Sir," the Gunny quickly explained, "plus my gunner had the square sighted on his vision scope."

"Go on," urged the former submariner.

"I was watching Captain Lewis and Lieutenant Hawkins trying to rally the men, but it tough, Sir; vehicles were burning all over the place and men were getting wounded and killed – it looked pretty grim Sir."

"I understand Gunny; but then your gunner, Corporal Lopez, he saw something." Sturgis prompted him.

"Yes Sir…."

_Gunny! One of the GATORs broke through the encirclement!_

_Lemme see Corp! -That's Lieutenant Dodge!_

_He's Combat Engineers Sir! What does he think he's doing?_

_He's trying to break into the square Lopez! Give him cover fire! Let's give the man a hand…!_

"We fired a few rounds and managed to get some more holes opened in the enemy lines…"

_How is he doing Lopez?_

_Wait one – he's helping Cap'n Hawkins rally the troops…. Hey! Here's comes reinforcements, we got us a Cobra inbound!_

Harm derailed Dyess' momentum with two simple words. "Objection, hearsay."

Sturgis looked over at the aviator/lawyer. "Your Honor, I have the Gunnery Sergeant relaying this information because Corporal Domingo Lopez was killed in action during the recent riots. He was the only one to hear the Corporal relay this information."

Blakely nodded. "Based on that information Commander, I'll allow the testimony. Continue Counselor."

Sturgis Turner tried to regain his lost momentum. "That was when Lieutenants Lukens and Buell arrived?" he asked.

This time Mac ambushed him. "Objection, Counsel is leading the witness."

Sturgis quickly shifted gears, trying to ignore their posturing.

"I'll rephrase your Honor. Gunnery Sergeant, tell me about what happened when

FIREFLY ONE appeared."

Yes Sir; they began raking away at the enemy as well, and then somebody got in a lucky shot."

"They meaning FIREFLY ONE?"

"Yes Sir, it didn't look too good – but Lieutenant Lukens is a miracle worker when it comes to tough situations like this, and he always seems to be able to pull a rabbit out of his hat-"

"Please stick to the facts, Gunny." Sturgis said firmly to the Gunnery Sergeant.

Dyess was appropriately chastened by Commander Turner's instruction. "Aye Sir; Lieutenant Lukens was able to auto rotate down in a controlled crash."

"And then what happened?"

"Well Lopez, I mean, Corporal Lopez called me down from topside…."

_Gunny! The Lieutenant is doing it again; he's giving the Cobra crew a chance to escape!_

_If he lives, they'll pin a medal on him…let me take a look…._

_Oh My God…!_

_What is it Gunny? Gunny?_

…_Lukens and Buell just shot and killed Lieutenant Dodge…._

"Did you see them through the gun sight, Gunny?" asked Sturgis in confirmation of the fact.

"Yes Sir, I could not believe it." Dyess looked out at Lukens and Buell. "I still can't believe it."

Frederick Buell looked as if he was about to climb out of his chair and throttle the Gunny. Meanwhile Ben Lukens sat calmly and quietly facing his accuser. His face didn't show a single ripple of anger or resentment.

Sturgis turned to Judge Blakely. "No further questions, your Honor."

Blakely looked over at Harm and Mac. "Commander Rabb?"

Harmon Rabb, Jr. rose from behind the desk, and stood looking at Dyess while holding a piece of paper. He examined it for a moment and then looked directly at the man.

"Gunnery Sergeant Dyess, what was your vision tested as on your last eye exam, and when did this exam take place?"

For a brief moment the courtroom was silent. Dyess looked over at Sturgis and cleared his throat.

"January Sir, and I tested at 20/20 – a clean bill of health."

Harm nodded thoughtfully and began to walk toward the witness stand. "I see; and how many hours had you been awake?"

"Objection your Honor." Bud called out from his seat. "What is the relevance to this line of questioning?"

Harm looked at Bud and then at Colonel Blakely. "Goes toward establishing what Gunnery Sergeant Dyess might have thought he saw, your Honor."

Blakely examined the two attorneys. Neither one was going to back down. "I'll allow it. Overruled; get there quick, Commander." The judge looked down at Dyess. "Gunnery Sergeant, you may answer the question."

Andrew Dyess wasn't sure why Commander Rabb was so interested in his vision and how fatigued he might have been, but he was just a witness, so he'd have to answer the question. Not that it made much sense to him. "I'd been up for 32 hours, Sir."

Harm looked down at his paper again. "How do you do efficiency-wise, Gunny, on that amount of sleep?"

Seeing that the Commander wanted to follow this line of questioning, Dyess decided to let him know just how combat soldiers handle the nuisance of sleep deprivation. "Been in this situation a couple of times Sir – I take the standard pills to keep me going when I need to."

Harm looked down at the paper again and then back at the noncommissioned tank officer. "Any problems nodding off, hallucinating…?"

"Objection your Honor," this time Sturgis Turner stood. "I have to ask, what is the relevance of this questioning, what is it leading to?" He had enough of this charade. (What the devil are you up to Harm?) More importantly, what was on that piece of paper?

"Overruled," returned Blakely. He wanted to know where this was leading as well, but Harm had a point that had to be acknowledged.

Harm smiled knowingly. "I withdraw the question, your Honor. Gunnery Sergeant, you said there was a lot of fire and smoke in the square from burning vehicles."

Another odd question. "Yes Sir."

"But you could still see Lieutenant Lukens or Lieutenant Buell well enough to see them shoot Lieutenant Dodge Gunny?"

Dyess was getting a bad feeling about this. "Yes Sir…" he answered slowly.

Harm walked over to Blakely and handed him the paper he had been holding. "Your Honor, I would like to enter this as defense exhibit # 5. This chart shows the location of the burning vehicles and the wind direction that morning."

Blakely looked at the chart. Sturgis got up, a puzzled look creasing his face as he walked over to Harm. "You better not trying to sandbag me, Commander," he warned in a low voice.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Commander." returned Harm evenly locking eyes with Turner.

Judge Blakely motioned to Sturgis Turner and handed him the page. "Commander Turner, does the prosecution have any objection to this exhibit?" The former submariner looked at the chart for a moment. It was the same one Harm had obtained from weather service two days ago. Just what was this Top Gun air jockey up to?

"No your Honor, the prosecution does not have any objection." He handed the paper back to the Judge and walked back over to his desk.

"So ordered." Blakely handed the paper back to Harm.

As you can see your Honor, smoke from the wrecked vehicles indicated here, blocked Gunnery Sergeant Dyess' view. Harm held the chart so that Dyess could see it as well.

The enlisted man looked stunned. Bud and Sturgis looked at each other and then back at Harm. The former Tomcat pilot turned and faced Dyess. "Gunnery Sergeant, would you like to change your testimony?"

Dyess looked at Harm only briefly before casting his eyes to the floor, not wanting to see Harm's piercing stare anymore. "I did see Lieutenants Lukens and Buell Sir." He said, the words tumbling out of him in a half hearted explanation. "And they had their weapons raised but that's when the wind changed-"

"And smoke obscured Lieutenant Dodge's AMTRAC," added Harm quietly.

"Yes Sir," said the Gunnery Sergeant desperation seizing his voice, "but only for a few seconds-"

"And when the smoke cleared?" The former Top Gun said quietly.

Dyess let out a long slow sigh. He'd been caught stretching what he knew versus what happened. "I saw Lieutenant Dodge slumping over and Lieutenants Lukens and Buell were holding their guns up."

"Couldn't it be Gunnery Sergeant, that Lieutenants Lukens and Buell did that because they too had heard the shot and did not want to add to the confusion?"

"Yes Sir," acknowledged the Gunnery Sergeant quietly, "that could be possible."

A sly smile lit Mac's formerly brooding dark face. What had been looking like certain doom for their clients had now been reversed.

Harm cut a quick glance at Blakely, "No further questions, your Honor." He turned and walked back to his seat. Gunnery Sergeant Dyess was sitting noticeably slumped in the witness stand chair.

"Nice job," Mac said, patting the Commander's arm as he took his seat.

"Good things come to those with patience." said Harm. To offset any snideness this comment might hold, Harm smiled one his disarming smiles at his partner.

Mac gave him a wry smile in return. "You're a real piece of work, Commander."

Blakely looked over at Bud and Sturgis "Prosecution, would you like to re-direct?"

Bud and Sturgis looked at each other again. They had not expected Dyess's testimony to crumble this way. Sturgis cleared his throat and looked at the judge. "Just one question, your Honor."

"Proceed."

"Gunnery Sergeant Dyess, who did you see shoot Lieutenant Dodge?"

Andrew Dyess licked his lips and looked from the prosecution to the defense table. "I couldn't see anyone shooting at him Sir." The courtroom fell silent.

Judge Blakely gave the enlisted man a stern look that promised retribution to come. "Gunnery Sergeant Dyess, you may step down."

Andrew Dyess slowly got up out of the chair and headed to the back of the courtroom.

Bud looked up at Judge Clifford Blakely. "Your Honor, I'd like to call Gunnery Sergeant Albert Sanchez to the stand."

"So noted," Blakely motioned to the guard at the back of the room. "Sergeant, will you bring the Gunnery Sergeant in?"

"Yes Sir," replied the guard. He walked over and opened the door, "the court calls Gunnery Sergeant Albert Sanchez to the witness stand."

"Your Honor, I'd like to move that Gunnery Sergeant Dyess's testimony be stricken from the record and he be removed as a credible witness."

"On what grounds, Colonel?" Blakely held up his hand to silence Sturgis before he could raise an objection.

"There is no way the Gunnery Sergeant's testimony can be listed as valid due to the distance and atmospheric conditions that morning, your Honor." Mac calmly explained as if it weren't blatantly obvious what she was trying to do.

No matter how much he wanted to help with this charade she and the other attorneys were trying to pull off, some things regarding court procedure had to be followed.

Blakely looked sternly at her. "Denied Colonel, Gunnery Sergeant Dyess's description of the overall situation is still valid and cannot be discounted."

Mac looked down at her list. (So much for that strategy) she thought glumly.

Dyess was almost to the door when Sanchez walked in. The two men silently regarded each other, and then Albert Sanchez headed to the witness stand.

As Sanchez approached the witness stand, Harm stood. "Then your Honor, the defense would like to request that Gunnery Sergeant Sanchez be identified as a hostile witness."

Albert Sanchez stopped and looked in disbelief at the Commander; Mac's eyes flared wide.

Blakely eyed the aviator/lawyer with suspicion. "Commander, I'm guessing you have a good reason for this."

Harm's lips pressed into a thin line. "Yes your Honor, I do."

Marine judge Clifford Blakely spread his hands, "Then enlighten us, please…"

"Your Honor, the Gunnery Sergeant has previously demonstrated a hostile attitude toward my clients and is known to be a reluctant witness in this case."

Blakely looked over at the prosecution table. "Commander? Do you have any problems with this?"

"None at this time, your Honor," said Sturgis Turner evenly. Once again, the Top Gun lawyer had him buffaloed with his tactics.

"Let the record reflect that Gunnery Sergeant Albert Sanchez is to be recognized as a hostile witness." Blakely motioned to Sanchez. "Gunnery Sergeant, please take your seat."

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

Carolyn Imes shook her head, trying to clear her blurring vision. It was no use; each time she started reading Seaman Hurtado's deposition, her vision began to double. It wasn't that the Seaman's testimony was particularly boring – well no more, that is, than any other testimony like this that she had read. She just needed to stand up, get her blood pumping and that would only happen if—

"I see Seaman Hurtado's deposition has the same effect on you that it does on me."

Carolyn looked over at the door to see Alan Mattoni's head sticking around the corner, the expression on his face seemed to indicate he was trying to gauge if she was okay with his interruption.

"I thought it was just me." Carolyn smirked as she relaxed into a yawn and stretch in front of her long time partner. Seeing her more relaxed stance, he came on into the office and shut the door.

"It's all those 'umms' 'likes' 'you knows' and 'okays'," he teased as he walked over and sat down in the chair in front of her desk. "Did you find anything?"

"Sorry Counselor," she teased back, "that's attorney-client privilege."

"You wound me Commander," said Alan smiling, "I would never try to worm that out of you."

"Uh huh," she snorted, "nice try, but no dice. You'll just have to get Carly and that cute NCIS agent to get that information for you."

"Ah, I see, so you're willing to give it to him?" he prodded. His comment had the desired effect. She flinched.

"That was a low blow Mattoni, even for you." The smirk on her face told him she wasn't as mad as she sounded.

"It's for a good cause, Carolyn. You know that Staff Sergeant Hilton is guilty and I'm gonna win this case hands down."

"Only if you believe in fantasies like the one you're having right now."

Alan turned serious. "Best to talk a deal now Commander, I've got the goods on

Hilton-"

"I'll take my chances with Admiral Morris." She deadpanned, mimicking him.

"Carolyn," Alan reached out to touch her arm, "I'm serious, your man is guilty and I can prove it in court."

"See you in court Counselor," She opened her door for him, "And send John in if you see him."

Gunnery Sergeant Sanchez lived up to his description as a hostile witness. Harm and then Mac were barely able to pull anything useful out the infantry platoon's Gunny.

The only consolation was the Sturgis and Bud met earlier with similar results.

Sanchez's last comment drew a disgusted look from Mac. She turned toward the Bubblehead/lawyer as he moved to sit back down. "Your Witness."

"I have no further questions of this witness your Honor," Sturgis said as he briefly stood to address Judge Blakely, before sitting back down.

"Gunnery Sergeant Sanchez you may step down."

As the Gunny made his way past the attorney's tables, Harm cast a sideways glance over at Mac. She tapped her watch as a muscular looking mountain of a man wearing his best BDUs sat down in the back of the room. Harm looked back and nodded to the man who acknowledged his nod. He turned back to Mac.

"What's your idea, Mac?"

She picked up her papers and started to stand. "Call it fighting fire with fire, Flyboy." The Marine attorney addressed Colonel Blakely. "Your Honor, I'd like to call Gunnery Sergeant Daniel LeBlanc back to the stand."

Gunny LeBlanc, commander of the tank retrieval vehicle attached to Bravo Company had been brought to the stand earlier to tell what he had seen. His testimony had been pretty standard for someone involved in this case up to this point, but now Mac had an idea. Bud's computer diagram had supported this theory and with the hearing going the way it was, what did they have to lose?

Blakely's face soured. "Colonel, this is highly unusual; why didn't you ask this question when the witness was on the stand earlier,"

Before Sturgis or Bud could raise an objection, Mac supplied an answer as to why she was recalling this witness. "If your Honor will indulge, the Gunnery Sergeant has a unique perspective on the incident in light of the recent comments made. His additional testimony is crucial to the defense of our clients."

"Prosecution?" inquired the Marine judge.

Sturgis quickly conferred with Bud. "No objections your Honor."

Blakely did his best to give her a neutral stare. "You may have your testimony, Colonel."

The Sergeant-at-Arms made the call for Daniel LeBlanc to come to the stand.

Mac bided her time while LeBlanc settled into his seat. "I remind you Gunnery Sergeant that you are still under oath."

"Yes Ma'am," he replied respectfully, his eyes quickly cutting to her and then back to the rail in front of his chair.

Mac dispensed with the preamble and dove right in. "Gunnery Sergeant, where did you say you were on the morning of the 25th?"

His reply was polite and to the point. "I was assigned to support operations in and around Mirbullah that morning, Ma'am."

She knew this might raise an objection from the Bubblehead, but she had to do it this way to show the importance of his testimony. Mac hoped her gamble would pay off. "You supported the operations of Lt. Borden's SLUGGER unit?"

"Yes Ma'am." No objection. Either Sturgis was asleep at the wheel, which was highly unlikely, or he was looking for perfect opportunity to knock the supports out from under the Marine attorney's supposition.

"Was this done while the hill was still under attack by the Iraqi forces on hill one-two- one?" She pressed further.

"Yes Ma'am, and during the clearing operations and subsequent ambush of the Mirbullah town square area." Gunny LeBlanc felt a little uneasy answering these obvious questions, but maybe the pretty Colonel knew something he didn't.

"Objection, we've been over this before your Honor," said Sturgis Turner as if he were bored with her tactics.

Mac had anticipated his response and pulled tactic from Harmon Rabb's playbook. "Your Honor I ask that the court indulge me, my reason for re-visiting this testimony will become clear momentarily."

Harm felt as if he was watching a three way tennis match. He looked from his academy buddy to Mac to Blakely. Would Colonel Blakely buy her explanation? (Just what are you doing, Jarhead?)

Blakely's response was stern. "You have your moment Colonel, wrap this up."

Mac was gracious. Every little bit would help her get to the point she wanted to make. "Thank you your Honor." Harm had to admit it was like watching a mirror of himself as Mac beamed a warm smile at the Judge.

"And were you able to see what was going on in the town square?" She continued questioning the Gunny.

Daniel LeBlanc looked from Mac to the judge and back again. His face screwed up in confusion. "To be honest Ma'am, it was tough to see anything going on with all that smoke-"

"But you did see something that looked strange, right Gunny?" she pressed.

"Your Honor," Sturgis growled, irritation lacing his voice. Commander Turner had had just about enough of this charade.

"I want to hear what the man has to say, Counselor." Blakely's voice snapped like a whip silencing the Bubblehead. The Judge looked down at LeBlanc. "Continue, Gunnery Sergeant."

Mac watched with a poker face, but on the inside she was doing a victory jig. (Take that Bubblehead!)

Gunny LeBlanc sat forward on his chair. His nervousness at being used this way was obvious. "We saw – that is Corporal Gadney and I saw a rifle sticking out of second floor window about the time FIREFLY ONE entered the battle."

"Do you remember what time that was?" Mac said coolly.

Daniel LeBlanc regained some of his composure but he still felt unsure about what she really wanted. "Yes Ma'am I looked at my watch by habit. It was 0729 local."

Mac walked over to the defense table and picked up a sheet and handed it to Judge Blakely. "I refer your Honor to Exhibit #6 an updated weather chart that shows what they could see at the time he indicated."

Mac turned back to LeBlanc. "And how were you and Corporal Gadney able to see this rifle?"

Daniel LeBlanc cleared his throat. "Like Sergeant Dyess, we used our vision devices to view the gun, after Corporal Gadney reported seeing muzzle flashes that seemed to pinpoint a sniper taking potshots at the Cobra gunship."

Benjamin Lukens and Frederick Buell did double-takes. Bud and Sturgis began to quietly search through their notes.

"And through this equipment, what did you and Corporal Gadney see?" Mac said quietly.

LeBlanc's voice was almost as hushed, but words he spoke hit the courtroom like a string of firecrackers. "We saw an American made Barrett M-82 .50 cal sniper rifle trading fire with FIREFLY ONE."

"At that distance Gunny, how can you be certain you were seeing a Barrett sniper rifle?" Mac wanted to be sure that neither Sturgis nor Bud could invalidate what LeBlanc was saying.

Gunnery Sergeant LeBlanc looked solemnly at the pretty JAG Corps attorney, and then out into the audience. "A Barrett sniper rifle is very distinctive Ma'am; there was no mistaking what kind of gun we saw."

Mac looked toward the back of the room. Private First Class Adam Secord shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Carly Clemmons looked at the NCIS report again. She flipped to the page that showed the photos and the drawing of the murder scene and then looked up Jennifer Coates standing patiently by her desk.

"Petty Officer, how far away did the autopsy report indicate Ms. Keller was when she was shot and killed?" Major Clemmons lowered her gaze back to the report.

Jen wasn't thrilled to be working with the Marine Major, but orders were orders. So she decided to make the best of it, and do a job that would make Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie proud of her. "At least 1000 yards, Major." The Petty Officer said after a quick mental calculation.

"An absurdly easy shot for a sniper," murmured Carly as she continued to peruse the report.

"Ma'am? Aren't we supposed to be proving that Staff Sergeant Hilton didn't do this?" She knew she was risking the Major's wrath, but it did seem like they should be plotting strategy to save him, rather than figuring that as a sniper he could have easily killed the woman.

Carly looked up at the perky Petty Officer. (Why did Admiral Chegwidden saddle me with this obnoxious know-it-all?) "To prove he didn't do it, Petty Officer, you have to know that it is possible he could have done it, anticipate the Prosecution's angle, and then prove he couldn't possibly have done it." Carly explained blandly as if talking to a moron.

It was convoluted logic, but for some reason, Jen immediately understood what she was trying to convey. Maybe it was because of all those times she had helped Commander Rabb. She began nodding as she sat down in chair beside Carly's desk. Major Clemmons' eyes flared briefly, but allowed Petty Officer Coates to remain sitting.

"I see Ma'am!" she said excitedly, initially ignoring the Major's consternation. Then Jen realized why she was upset. She thought about getting up, but decided since the Major hadn't said anything; she'd just be more subdued in relating her revelation.

Carly gave her a pained look. "What do you see Petty Officer?"

"Well Ma'am, you're certain he couldn't have been the one to fire the shots that killed Ms. Keller, so we look for someone with better or equal sniper skills who had an axe to grind against either Ms. Keller or Sergeant Hilton or both," she finished in calmer tone than when she began.

Carly was floored. (The little twit figured it out – she's either got brains I didn't give her credit for, or she's incredibly lucky….) "Yes…exactly, Petty Officer, uh, very good."

"Thank you Ma'am!" Jen said brightly giving the Major a sunny smile. Carly thought she was going to throw up. (All right Carly, you can do this, the Admiral wouldn't have saddled you with wonder girl if he didn't think she would be able to help)

Carly plastered on her best fake smile. "Now let's see if we can find out just who would have been able to do this, Petty Officer."

Lieutenant Commander John Burford sat in his chair looking up at the ceiling. "Who else besides the Staff Sergeant could have shot and killed Ms. Keller with such precision?" Sergeant Givers briefly looked up at the ceiling to see if she could see what the Commander saw up there. When John looked at her, she had fixed her eyes on a distant point just past the Commander's desk.

"Excuse me Sir, but why are even investigating that possibility? There must be hundreds of persons that could have done this…." Marla trailed off hoping she hadn't overstepped her bounds.

John Burford smiled at her question. To others her query might have seemed insubordinate, but John liked her spunk and her willingness to speak her mind. "But only a select few fit the profile and we want to eliminate those other suspects."

Marla Givers was still perplexed with his method. "Why Commander? Meaning no disrespect Sir, but their must be at least fifty people who could have done this besides Sergeant Hilton."

John's smile grew wider as he laced his fingers together behind his head and leaned back in his chair. "Because that's who Major Clemmons will zero in on first. She doesn't waste time looking at all possibles, she hits the most likely suspects. We're going to have to preempt her if we're going to win this one."

Marla thought about this for moment. Now that made sense to her. She began nodding and smiling as she walked toward the door. "I see now Sir, I'll get started compiling the short list…." She stopped and turned back toward John. "You're good Commander."

John gave her a cocky grin. "Just putting two and two together Sergeant."

36th MEU, BLT Headquarters

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

The rest of the afternoon was spent examining and cross examining the rest the witnesses from Captain Lewis's infantry company.

In the end the testimony of the witnesses cancelled each other out. Just when Harm and Mac thought they might be able to completely repair the damage caused by Captain Lewis's story, another witness would add a piece that would further sink any chances for the Cobra gunship crew for avoiding a trial. Even though LeBlanc's disclosure had rocked the Prosecution, Bud and Sturgis quickly recovered and continued to shoot large holes in Harm and Mac's defense of the Cobra gunship crew.

PFC Secord's testimony remained solid despite Harm and Mac's efforts to throw him off balance. If he was being coached, whoever had taught him was a master.

The end of the day brought them no closer to exonerating the Lieutenant and Chief Warrant Officer. Citing the lateness of the day, Judge Blakely delayed the testimony of the scouts and crews of Sergeant Fuller's Light Armored Vehicle platoon until 1000 tomorrow morning.

With the bang of the gavel, Harm and Mac stood up and put their papers and notepads back into their briefcases.

Harm and Mac walked out into the hallway and watched the court room guards lead Lukens and Buell back to their cell.

"We came so close," Mac said in an almost wistful voice.

Harm gave his partner an annoyed scowl. "Are you giving up?" he asked incredulously. "This is not the do or die, tough as nails Marine that I know."

Mac gave him a world weary glance before looking back down the hall. "Harm, there's a time to admit we should make a deal and unless a miracle happens tomorrow morning, I think we'd be doing our clients a favor by negotiating that deal for them."

He stalked away from her heading down a narrow hallway. She sighed and shook her head taking off after him.

Harm snorted as she caught up with him. "So you're just going to roll over and play dead? What's the matter MacKenzie, did Paraguay and running around in the jungle making kissy face with Secret Agent Man make you soft?" Mac's head whipped around, the astounded look on her face quickly being replaced by bitter fury. But Harmon Rabb wasn't finished with her yet. "Wait, you don't have to answer that, I already have my answer."

Mac's words rolled from her lips in growl. "Watch your mouth Commander."

"Why Colonel?" He snorted, "Because I'm hitting too close to home?"

Mac ignored his snide comment. Her tone was ice cold. "What happened between me and Clay in the Chaco Boreal is none of your damn business, and for your information it has not affected my ability to be a good lawyer. I'm being practical, you air headed jet jockey, which is more than I can say for you!"

Harm felt that verbal slap to his core. He had meant to goad her to keep her from giving up, but as usual, he had pushed too far. He stiffened and started to turn to leave. "I'd better let you simmer down before we continue this-"

Oh no he didn't, he wasn't going to get the chance to run away. Not if she could help it. Mac tried logic to make him understand. "Harm, Sturgis trashed us in court! You were there! Unless you have something up your sleeve I don't know about I don't think we're going to win this one, Butch!"

The use of that nickname she had once used in Afghanistan to describe both of them when they were hunting that Saudi terrorist Kabir Atef, made Harm stop in his tracks. He turned back to face her. "I'm not giving up MacKenzie, you can roll over if you want, but I'll get the evidence and the witnesses I need." He said quietly, looking intently at her.

Mac was still too riled up to be swayed by his intense serious stare. She threw up her hands in exasperation. "From where Harm? The desert? Where the hell are you going to find this silver bullet?"

Harm reached out and gently touched her arm. "I don't know Mac," he said calmly, "I don't know. I just know I can't give up on them. Not now."

Mac's beautiful brown eyes locked onto his baby blues. She felt her anger deserting her. "You're impossible," she said faltering. She looked down at the floor.

He lifted her chin so she could see his face. "And stubborn," he added, showing her the beginnings of a smile.

That smile of his caused her anger to deflate some more, "Yeah and stubborn", she said trying to hold on to some of her anger, but she was failing miserably.

Harm glanced down at her with remorse filling his eyes. "Look Mac, I'm sorry about the-"

Now it was her turn to smile. She shook her head, brushing off his apology. "Forget it Harm, I know you were trying to goad me into getting back into the game."

"But using Paraguay and Clay was a low blow," he elaborated. God he hated it when they fought like this, he wanted her to understand why he did it.

She did. Now Mac ducked her head and then looked back at him with remorse in her eyes. "No lower than me taking off down there in the first place, Navy."

Harm's eyes drilled into her soul. "Then why did you do it, Sarah?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She looked away from him. Her words caught in her throat. "A… a lot of reasons Harm, too many to talk about now," Harm heaved a frustrated sigh which caused her arm to shoot out and touch his, "but I promise we'll talk about them. All of them."

The look of promise in her eyes made him nod. "I'm holding you to that, MacKenzie."

She gave him a small smile in return. This was more like it. "I know. Okay, now what ideas do you have about saving our clients?"

Harm turned thoughtful. "What do you say to formulating our strategy while we workout in the BLT Weight room? It's been a while since we really worked out."

"Now that you mention it a good hard workout might just be what the doctor ordered."

Harm flashed her his thousand watt smile. "Great. Get your gear and I'll meet you at the weight room in twenty."

She flashed him a bright smile in return. "You're on, Flyboy."

2007 Hours Local

BLT Weight Room

36th MEU BLT Headquarters

Harm was standing over Mac, spotting for her, as she lifted barbells. "C'mon Mac, one more."

Sarah MacKenzie's face was mask of concentration, as she grunted and pushed the weights above her head.

"One hundred," she panted. Harm helped her put the barbells on their stand above her bench.

"Good going, Marine." He handed her a towel to dry off her sweat drenched face.

"So what's our strategy, Harm?" She sat up and looked at him as she wiped the perspiration off her flushed face. "How are we going to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat on this case?"

The aviator/lawyer gave her a wary glance before picking up a set of dumbbells. "I'm working on it, MacKenzie." He moved over to her and helped her lace up her gloves. She was being antagonistic again. Harm had to find out what was causing this before-

"Well if you can just keep those gumball thoughts of yours out of the courtroom, we should be fine," she quipped as she walked over to the punching bag.

Too late. (Here we go again. Mac, what's eating at you?) "Gumball thoughts, Mac? What are talking about?"

She smirked at his perplexed look. "You know, the old toy advertisement – 'here's a penny Mickey, thanks for the gumball' - that's you Harm."

That drew a blank look from the Commander. "I'm still not following."

Mac smiled and shook her head. "Your gumball thoughts Harm, you're like one of those kiddie gumball machines, your words sometimes just pop out of your head without any real thought behind them."

"Anybody can have an off day, Mac." Harm said defensively, as he concentrated on working with the dumbbells. (Easy Hammer, keep your cool, don't let her rattle you…)

"Let's hope that's your last one for a while, Harm. We can't afford too many days like today." She began hitting the punching bag with a combination of hooks and jabs.

He put his weights down. (That did it!) "If I remember correctly Colonel, you were the one that left the opening for Sturgis."

The anger in his voice made Mac stopped hitting the punching bag. "I did not."

"Sure you did. Who was the last one who talked to Captain Lewis before everything went to hell in hand basket?"

"You should have anticipated he was going to ask the good Captain something like that!" Mac fired back as she hit the bag with a series of roundhouse kicks.

Harm dropped his dumbbells with a thud. "What do I have to do MacKenzie, spell it out for you in blood?"

"You're the one who says I make complicated things too simple!" she snapped as she released another flurry of blows against the hapless bag.

"And you're the one who says I make simple things too complicated!" He fired back equally hot. (Why is she doing this, again?) Was she that concerned about the case or was it those nightmares? Either way it was getting tough to maintain perspective with her needling him the way she was doing. Maybe it was just a by-product of this bad day.

Or maybe, just maybe - it was something…deeper. Deeper than just lack of sleep, or nightmares, or this case or even the way they had danced around the relationship question for eight years. That made Harm quickly take mental stock about her actions. Had it started in Afghanistan? While they were hunting Kabir? Or maybe when Lieutenant Singer was killed….

This was getting them nowhere, and it was likely to degenerate into a full-fledged war if he didn't power down. So, though it went against his lawyer instinct, he made the first accommodating move. "Look Mac, it's a good idea to settle on a strategy before we get into the courtroom, rather than blaming each other about what happened afterwards."

Mac stopped banging away at the punching bag, which bounced off her as it reeled spinning from her anger fueled blows. "Why do we do this to each other?" She huffed as she walked over to him.

He gave her a wry smile. (Try humor Hammer….) "Maybe it's our sense of timing, Jarhead."

She chuckled ruefully, "I'm thinking its more like a curse."

"Two people deeply in love, fated to be at each other's throats for all eternity?" Harm shook his head. "I don't buy that for a moment, Mac."

"Well it does make for more passionate and heart-felt apologies," she said slowly as she took his hands in hers. Another shift in her emotions – this threw Harm for a loop.

Harmon Rabb, the lawyer with the gift for gab in the courtroom, felt all his witty sayings drying up as he looked into the eyes of this pretty Marine Lieutenant Colonel. "Mac uh…maybe, um…maybe we should-"

Her eyes searched his face, "We should what, Harm?"

"Maybe you should tell us what is going on between you two," the rumble of Sturgis Turner's bass voice startled both of them. They turned to see the Bubblehead and Bud standing there just watching them. Harm and Mac had dropped their hands to their sides, but their faces looked as guilty as a couple of horny teens caught necking on the family sofa.

"So Sturg, what brings you down here?" Harm began affably, hoping to gloss over whatever his old academy buddy might have thought he had seen.

"We needed a break Sir, Ma'am." Bud said in honest naiveté, "It was brutal in there today."

"Tell me about it," said Mac blandly. Harm had to fight to keep from laughing out loud.

Bud's eyes flared wide open when he realized his mistake. "Oh gosh, I'm sorry, Ma'am."

"It's okay Bud," she said reassuringly to him, "we're all adults here. It was a brutal day," She fixed Sturgis with a hard stare, "for all of us."

Sturgis casually appraised her. "What are you looking at me like that for, Colonel?"

"Why are you here Sturgis? Come to gloat about making mincemeat of our defense?"

Sturgis Turner chuckled. He really did like Mac despite her mercurial moments and her crazy dreams. "Nothing of the sort, Mac, I wanted to check with you, see how you are doing…." He said gently.

Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie quickly backed away from him and returned to her weights. "I'm fine Sturgis, I'd be better if you'd cut us some slack."

He walked between her and Harm. "You know I can't do that Colonel. Even though Bud and I have made a temporary truce on what happened before Harm left for Paraguay, the Admiral still has me under close scrutiny. If looked like I was even wavering just a little bit, he'd bring me up on a charge of inadequate counsel. So why the harsh stare?"

Harm knew that Sturgis still held him responsible for Bud's goof on his defense but decided humor stood a better chance than anger right now. "Well, buddy, it could have to do with you comment at lunch today that if we lose, and I quote, 'I'll laugh at your ass'. And I'll laugh at your ass, Sturgis? I don't think I like seeing this side of you."

Sturgis smiled for the first time today. "Just playing to the part, Harm, just like you and Mac were just doing."

"Touché buddy," Harm said lifting an imaginary glass in the air to salute his friend's quick wit.

A sly twinkle came to the Bubblehead's eyes. "Now I have to ask; are you two planning to get more serious about this on again off again boyfriend – girlfriend thing you two have been trying?"

"Don't listen to him Sir, Ma'am," said Bud defensively of his two former mentors. "He's just trying to psych you out."

"I'm aware of what he's doing Bud," Harm said good naturedly, "And it isn't going to work, *old friend*."

"And here I thought after today, you two would be willing to talk a deal," Sturgis quipped continuing to smile.

Mac snorted. "Just because you're in the cat bird's seat right now Sturgis, doesn't mean you'll always be there. And the answer to your question is 'no deal'."

Sturgis nodded stiffly. "Okay Mac, you *could* be right."

The Marine lawyer did a double take. "Wait a minute Sturgis, first you're all hot to make a deal and now you agree that it's *not* such a good idea? What gives?"

"Harm once told me to agree with you, it throws you off your stride."

She turned and gave the former Top Gun a baleful stare. "Oh he did, did he?" Harm smiled sheepishly at Mac.

Bud smiled at his two former mentor's actions, shaking his head. "Ma'am, Sirs, this has been fairly entertaining, but I promised Harriet I would call 2100 hours so I could read little AJ a bedtime story, so if you don't mind, I think I'll head back to my bunk."

Sturgis Turner eyed his young second chair, hoping he wasn't about to make another call that could possibly land him hot water like that call last night to Lieutenant Commander Lexington. He really did hope he was calling Harriet and little AJ.

"Not at all Lieutenant, have a pleasant evening."

Harm smiled at the junior officer's family concerns. "Get going Bud." He hoped that one day he would share those same concerns.

"Have a good evening Bud, tell Harriet and little AJ that I said hello." Mac, of all the people there felt that envious pang the strongest. The Marine side of her stomped it down, told her to focus on the moment – that there would be time for that stuff…later.

Bud nodded. "Yes Ma'am, goodnight. Goodnight Sirs."

Sturgis stood for a moment looking at the two defense lawyers and then slowly shook his head. "Well since you two don't want to deal, I don't see any reason to stay around here. Just don't do anything that would get you into trouble."

Harm winked. "We'll be good Dad, we promise."

Sturgis Turner sat on his bed reading back over the day's testimony. He was looking for starting points to use tomorrow when a knock at his door interrupted his thoughts. Sturgis looked up from his case notes.

"Come."

A young Sergeant who was taking care of Bud and Sturgis's needs stuck his head in the doorway. "Uh, Commander, there's a call for you, Sir."

The Bubblehead looked slightly annoyed. "Sergeant, I told you no calls."

Despite his non-commissioned rank, the man looked younger than his years. He looked genuinely embarrassed. "Yes Sir, I'm sorry Sir, but it's your father, I thought you would like to speak to him."

Commander Turner sighed; well there was really nothing that could be done about it now. He'd have to take the call. "Where do I take it?"

"Out here at the desk," the man explained, "he's waiting for you on line three."

Sturgis got up from the bed and walked out to the desk. He sat down, picked up the phone receiver and punched the button for line three.

The line crackled momentarily followed by a familiar rough voice. "Sturgis?"

Sturgis couldn't help but smile. "Hey Dad,"

"You trying to hide out there in the desert, son?" His father was never one to beat around the bush.

Sturgis Turner in mild frustration shook his head and closed his eyes momentarily. "No Dad, you know I'm here on a case. How did you-"

Reverend Turner seemed to sense his son's tenseness and sought to ease his concern for this call. "The Admiral gave me permission to call you son; I thought you might want to talk…. "


	30. Chapter 29

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 29

1737 Zulu

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

Marla Givers walked out the front door of JAG Headquarters toward her car. She had under an hour to get ready for tonight's party at Petty Officer Tiner's place in Arlington; fortunately her apartment was over by Tyson's Corner. She was concentrating on what she was going to wear, not noticing that Jennifer Coates had stopped just in front of her and was talking to a young Seaman. Jen stood on the landing and the sailor stood on the bottom step.

"Oof!" Marla slammed full force into the back of Jen Coates. Jen tottered on the landing, reaching for invisible hand grips that weren't there; it didn't do any good. She lost her fight with gravity and fell toward the ground. Petty Officer Coates tried to shield her face as she fell face first toward the asphalt. She was only partially successful.

"Ow!" At the last moment she covered her face with her hands but she wasn't able to protect her chin.

Marla shook the birdies out her head in time to see Petty Officer Coates picking herself up off the ground.

Fear washed through her as she saw Coates lying on the ground. "Jen! Gosh, I'm sorry—I—are you okay?"

"I'm all right Marla," said Jennifer slowly getting up from the asphalt. Several Marines and Navy personnel ran over to help. The color on Jen's face spread as the crowd grew larger.

"Are you sure?" Genuine concern could be heard in the Sergeant's voice as she moved closer to the Petty Officer. For her part Jennifer Coates was wishing she was anywhere but here.

"It's okay, Sergeant," she said dismissively, "I'm fine, really-"

Jason Tiner had just exited the building elevator and was headed for the exit when he noticed all the people standing around the front entrance. Curious, he moved closer wanting to find out what was going that had so many people stopping in the doorway. The crowd outside was even larger. Then he saw Marla bending over Jen.

"What's going – Jen!" Gunny's earlier comment came back full force. (Do you think they'll dance with each other?) His stomach lurched at the thought he might have been the cause of this.

Jennifer and Marla turned to see Jason Tiner in the middle of the crowd. Jen was surprised that Jason was reacting so strongly. She hadn't noticed the rivulet of blood that marked the scrape she had suffered when Marla inadvertently knocked her down. Jen absently wiped her hand across her chin and then noticed her now blood streaked hand.

The Petty Officer 1st class parted the crowd and moved toward the two women "Jen, are you okay?" Concern lit his eyes. Marla knew if she didn't say something quick, this could get ugly.

"It's my fault Petty Officer," Marla hastily explained "I wasn't looking where I was going-"

"It was an accident Tiner," said Jen earnestly looking sympathetically at Marla, "she didn't mean to knock me down-"

"Come on, let's get you back inside," Jason said gently, brushing off their explanations. With an uncharacteristic take charge manner, Tiner looked up at the crowd of Marine and and navy enlisted and non-commissioned officers. "Okay everyone, she's all right, I'll take her back inside and get her cleaned up."

Marla Givers was beginning to feel some harsh stares thrown her way. "Let me help," She moved closer to Jen offering her arm for support. Jason momentarily had a look of apprehension at this idea.

"Please,"

Jason looked from the Sergeant to Jen, who silently nodded approval. Jason hesitantly relented. The two gently guided Jen back inside through the curious onlookers.

Camp Chesty Puller

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Sturgis Turner sat on his bed thinking about what his Dad had said. (Don't harden your heart to true apologies. Be willing to forgive.) That image was wiped out by Sturgis' memory of Bud's faltering in his defense against that dereliction of duty charge brought by Lieutenant Jeremy Duncan. (He used Petty Officer Tiner's suggestion as my defense!) his mind screamed back in indignation (worse yet, my so-called 'Buddy' approved Lieutenant Roberts strategy!). Sure Tiner was an up and coming star in everyone's eyes at JAG Corps, but that was no reason to try his cockamamie ideas as a man's defense!

Sturgis wanted to get rid of these ringing accusations in his head. He had to focus on the here and now and not get drawn into making this case a personal vendetta against his 'old buddy' Harm. But it was hard. So very hard.

The preacher's son got up off his bed and walked around the room. He had to purge himself of these destructive thoughts if he ever hoped to win this case. Sure he had beaten up on Bud a little bit, but he had deserved it! And besides they were doing okay together now – in fact they made a pretty good team. If he could just keep the Lieutenant on track. (Just like that problem with his weight) the Commander mused. Well, he would get Bud Roberts to stop this nonsense about conspiracies tomorrow. Once and for all.

He went back to the bed and sat down. As for Harm…well, that would take a little more time to fix. Harm was a good man, but sometimes…he wondered about that 'Flyboy' as Mac was so fond of calling him.

A.J. Chegwidden was walking past the conference room on his way home. He hoped that Meredith would be home tonight, he could really use a break. The voices he heard made him stop in his tracks.

The unmistakable male voice of his Yeoman but sounding very commanding. Curious, he stopped and listened for moment to see what made his usually nervous Petty Officer 1st class so confident, so take charge. The other voice no doubt was the new Petty Officer that Harm and Mac had talked him into hiring – Jennifer Coates. AJ could tell she was growing more annoyed by the moment with Tiner.

"Now hold still…."

Then the annoyed female voice responded.

"Its okay Tiner, it's a scratch-"

"Which will get infected if you don't let me put this on it-"

"Look, I can do this myself-"

"Do you want me to have the Sergeant restrain you, Petty Officer?

"You wouldn't dare-"

"Oh yes I-"

Admiral Chegwidden didn't want this degenerating into a full fledged argument between the two Petty Officers. There was enough of this going on in the office as it was without these two starting. "Tiner, is this really necessary?"

Jason Tiner's eyes grew wide as saucers when he heard that familiar voice. "Admiral!"

Jen bolted off the table and stood rigidly at attention. "Sir!"

As did the young Marine. "Sir!"

AJ did a quick survey of the scene and noticed the nasty scratch on Jen's chin. The Admiral immediately dropped his fatherly tone and became hard nosed Admiral Chegwidden again. "Tiner, what the hell happened?"

The explanation came out in true Tiner fashion. "She, that is, Petty Officer Coates, well, she…fell Sir, hit her chin-"

"I can see that," growled the Admiral, not wanting to listen to anymore of his foolish stuttering at the moment. He wanted an answer and he wanted it now. "How did it happen?"

Marla looked sheepishly at the JAG. "It's my fault Sir, I wasn't looking where I was going, I ran into her…."

"And knocked her down?" AJ's eyebrows did a good imitation of Harm's as they rose toward the top of his bald pate.

"Yes Sir," was all that Sergeant Givers could muster.

"Sir really, it's just a scratch," Jen spoke up for the first time since the Admiral entered the conference room "It wasn't intentional-"

He shot Marla a quick withering glare. "It damn well better not have been."

"No Sir, she just bumped into me and I lost my balance."

"Are you hurt anywhere else, Coates?"

She gave her commanding officer an embarrassed smile. "No Sir, just my pride."

Marla Givers really wanted Admiral Chegwidden to know how she regretted what had happened. "Sir, I'm really sorry about all this. It's all my fault"

AJ knew it had been an accident, but he had to let her know such carelessness and any latent feelings of animosity toward Jennifer Coates would not be tolerated. This was not high school and he wasn't the principal "Sergeant Givers, it would be in your best interest to keep an eye on where you are headed from now on."

Marla understood the full implication of his sage comment. "Yes Sir." She said humbly.

He gave the three a quick nod. "Carry on." As he left the room he wondered if that was a poor choice of words considering these non-commissioned officers. (Hurmph! Now there's a great choice of words…and I thought Rabb and MacKenzie were a handful…) he thought shaking his head wearily as he made his way to the elevator.

1020 Local

36th MEU, BLT Headquarters

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

This morning's witness testimony has been uneventful so far. Harm made a motion here, Mac made one there, Sturgis or Bud would reply with the appropriate legal parry. Now they were down to the last witnesses – the Light Armored Vehicle crews and scout fire teams. Judge Clifford Blakely looked over at Sturgis Turner and Bud Roberts. "Prosecution, you may call your next witness."

Commander Turner stood. "Thank you your Honor, the prosecution calls Sergeant Zachary Richard Fuller to the stand."

Sergeant Fuller having taken the oath, settled uncomfortably into the chair.

Sturgis walked over to the witness stand. "Sergeant Fuller would you please tell the court what you saw the morning of March 25?"

Mac was keeping a close eye on the commander of ROVER Prime as he began to give his testimony. Surely there was someway they could turn his statements to help their clients.

Unfortunately, Zack Fuller did not present any of those opportunities to Harm or Mac. Mac watched as Harm's pencil lead snapped as he took notes. Uncharacteristically, Commander Rabb swore under his breath loud enough for her to hear. Immediately, he became aware of her stunned expression.

He could have done many things at this point. He could have smiled sheepishly, he could have whispered an apology, but the truth was he really didn't feel like doing any of those. He opted instead to focus on the Sergeant's testimony ignoring her shocked expression.

Colonel MacKenzie knew her partner was becoming increasingly frustrated with entire proceedings. All the positives from earlier in the hearing had faded. The moment with Dyess when he mentioned the Barrett rifle being used to bring down the Cobra gunship was quickly discredited by the Bubblehead as attributable to hazy recall. Unless they found someone in these remaining witnesses to deconstruct Turner and Roberts' case, then it would surely go to trial.

The aviator/lawyer stated he had no questions of Fuller, so he was allowed to leave the stand. Next, Corporal Tacewell was called in. When he was seated and had been sworn in, the Lieutenant Commander started in on him.

"Corporal, isn't it possible you could have been mistaken about the shots that killed Lieutenant Dodge?"

"No Sir, as I told Colonel MacKenzie, when I saw the Cobra gunship crew, their guns were raised in the air."

"And not pointing at Lieutenant Dodge?"

"No Sir."

"Then Corporal, tell me how do you explain the smoke that obscured Sergeant Dyess's vision and didn't obscure your line of sight?"

"The smoke did not bar my line of sight Sir," said Tacewell working hard to keep his irritation in check. No one had told him this is what he would be questioned about and besides he knew what he had seen

"Are you certain about that?" Pressed the junior officer.

"Objection, Counsel is badgering his own witness," replied Mac in an aggravated tone. She was really getting tired of her old mentee taking all their good moments. It was no wonder Harm swore – she felt like swearing herself.

Colonel Blakely looked questioningly at Bud. "Lieutenant, are you going any particular place with this line of questioning?" Inquired the Judge

Bud Roberts moved back over to the prosecution's table and picked up a sheet of paper. "If your Honor will indulge me, my reasons for this line of questioning will become clear in a few minutes…."

As Bud Roberts gave his answer Harm could not help but admire this junior officer that was drilling his defense full of holes. "Way to go Bud," he said, again his soft voice was loud enough for his partner to hear.

Mac turned momentarily gave him an annoyed look, but the aviator/lawyer was right in his admiration. Bud was kicking their butts – and doing a damn good job of it.

And so it went for the rest of the morning. All three LAV crews testified to what they saw and answered to the best of their ability the questions asked of them. Fuller, Kirtland, and Glanz of ROVER ONE; Sewett and Tacewell of ROVER TWO and Dremmond and Bauer of ROVER THREE – one by one they testified to what they saw and in the end nothing was really added by their testimony to Lukens and Buell's defense. In fact if they had, Sturgis quickly batted it aside.

Harm's jaw line grew taut as Bud and Sturgis whittled away the Cobra's pilots' chances of getting out of this without a trial. The only bright spot was that Sewett, the Commander of ROVER TWO, admitted under Harm's scrutiny that though he saw Lieutenant Dodge go down, he did not see who had fired at him.

It was looking bad, despite this bright spot. However, Harm and Mac didn't just roll over. Both teams of lawyers argued the fine points of each piece of testimony. In the end, neither side felt like they had won any significant battles. The main points of the case really had been made early on.

When Harm had finished talking with the last witness and that person was excused from the witness stand, he felt as if he had run marathon and lost by only tenths of a second. "No further questions, your Honor."

Commander Sturgis Turner stood and looked directly at Judge Blakely. His stentorian voice filled the room. "Your Honor, the Prosecution rests."

Clifford Blakely made a notation on his pad and looked to Harm and Mac. "Defense?"

Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. who had just sat down, unfolded from his chair and stood tall facing the Marine judge. "The Defense also rests your Honor."

"Very well, I will consider all the evidence provided and give my verdict at 1000 tomorrow morning. Until then, this court stands adjourned."

Harm and Mac gathered their notes and other materials. As Mac started to put her notes, witness lists, witness transcripts and witness questions into her briefcase, she looked up when she heard the door at the back of the courtroom open. What she saw made her feel light-headed and her mouth dry.

The Marine that had entered the room was now conferring with Lieutenant Colonel Livingston and Captain Lewis. She was of average height and build and looked like any aide that might make their way into a courtroom. Mac stood transfixed, unable to move.

Harm did not see the look on his partner's face. He was busy putting his own papers away. "You know Mac," He looked up to see her startled face. Immediately Harm became concerned. "Mac? Mac, what are you-" His eyes followed hers to the group at the back of the room.

The female Marine glanced at Mac and then went back to her conversation with Livingston and Lewis.

"Mac, snap out of it, Marine," Harm said in concerned voice. "You're spooking them and me. What's going on?"

Her answer was simply stated. "It's her Harm," she said quietly, trying to tear her eyes away from the image. "I saw her in my visions."

Harm took a quick look at the woman. He felt a chill go up his spine. He too had seen her before and not while he was awake. "The one that kills me?"

"No, she's the one that spots you being shot down."

Harm wasn't sure what to say to that. All he knew is that he felt an even stronger chill, as if someone had turned an air conditioning vent on his back. Harm looked away and back toward his still stunned partner.

"Excuse me Commander?"

Harm started as if the person had said 'boo'. It was the female Marine flanked by Colonel Livingston and Captain Lewis.

"I'm sorry Sir, I didn't mean to startle you," she looked over at Mac trying to get a grip on her own case of the jitters. "Or the Colonel. We didn't mean to interrupt but the Colonel thought-"

"I thought you should meet this young woman Commander, Colonel. She might be able to help you figure out that sniper angle you brought up yesterday." Darcy Livingston's eyes glittered as if she had just learned a great secret. Jac was more stoic.

"Sorry we didn't hear you come up," said Harm lamely.

"I guess not," said Darcy with a lilt of amusement in her voice that made Harmon Rabb wish he could knock that smug smile off her face. "Anyway, I want you to meet one of the newer editions to our force recon unit. Corporal Kayce Danvers—she's an expert with the Barrett sniper rifle."

Mac had meanwhile regained her composure enough to ask a logical question. "Colonel, your being the head of Force Recon in this unit is an anomaly that you've explained to us. Since when are combat units allowing female snipers?"

"The Colonel made a strong case for me Ma'am with the SJAG and the Theater Operations Commander." Harm and Mac exchanged a surprised glance before turning back to the threesome.

"In what way Corporal?" Harm probed. He too had regained his composure.

"I'm a dead shot Commander. My sniping skills are unequaled by any other woman…" she paused for effect, "or man, Sir."

Mac would have been impressed if she wasn't still trying to figure out what part this person played in their future.

"We thought she might be able to help you get inside the sniper's mind Commander," Jac added. "She can also help with figuring out exactly who was taking potshots at FIREFLY ONE."

"You're presuming that this goes to trial," Mac gave Jac a pointed look to emphasize her meaning,

"Just trying to be helpful with the next phase, Cher." Lieutenant Colonel Livingston locked eyes with Mac. "She didn't arrive in country until yesterday."

Harm gave the Colonel the biggest fake grin he could manage. "We appreciate the offer, Colonel, but if you don't mind we'll wait to see what Judge Blakely says first, if you don't mind."

Darcy Livingston's smile was just as big and just as fake. "Just trying to cooperate with the investigation Cher. Don't look at me as one of the bad guys…I'm trying to be cooperative, really." She gave Harmon Rabb a visual once over. The aviator/lawyer did his best not to notice what she was doing.

It finally clicked as to why Sarah MacKenzie felt…something akin to unease when she looked at Darcy. It was those eyes. Now she knew where she had seen them before.

? Hours Local

Bachelor Officer Quarters, 36th MEU

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Harm struggled restlessly with his sheets. Though physically he was still in Mirbullah, his mind had spiraled back to the Paraguayan jungle. He and Mac were in the skies over the Chaco Boreal searching for the tractor-trailer rig loaded down with Sadik's Stinger missiles.

_The Stingers are in that Semi…_

_Do you see them?_

_There! Down there Harm!_

_Hang on! Mac!_

_What!_

_Take the controls!_

Harm began lighting the fuses on the dynamite sticks, as gunfire from Sadik's goons reached up to try to claw them from the sky. To Harm it seemed to take forever to light the dynamite sticks, and then throw them at the speeding rig.

_Hold her steady, Mac!_

_I'm trying Harm, they're not making it easy!_

Just when Harm thought he hadn't connected, the tractor-trailer blew apart with the exploding dynamite connecting with the fuel and explosive warheads for the Stingers.

The resulting fireball kissed the underside of the aging Stearman, as Harm grabbed the controls from Mac and pulled away from the inferno.

_Harm!_

He turned around to see the power lines looming ahead. Kicking the rudder hard, he barely cleared them, but the burping of the engine and the white smoke told him they probably would not be able to do that again.

_Harm?_

The hillside was rapidly approaching, Harm searched frantically for any kind of clearing where he could set the plane down. Trees and underbrush was all that he could see. There had to be somewhere…anywhere. Then he saw it; it wasn't much, but it was their only chance. He prayed he had just a little luck left.

_Hang on!_

_Ohh nooo! Ahhhh!_

He felt the tree branches smacking in the fuselage, as the Stearman tore its way toward the ground. The wheels touched down only for a moment before they snapped off, and several large branches reached out to claw at the aircraft.

First the right wing and then the left wing snapped off. Harm wanted to check on her, but the shuddering and jarring made it impossible, then he saw it looming ahead—the trunk of a large tree.

_Brace yourself…_

The impact of the fuselage jarred him so hard he thought his head would snap off. Then silence. Harm felt the rustling of branches first. Then he heard the tropical birds singing and flitting from branch to branch.

He forced his eyes open; smoke drifted and curled around him and leaves and pine needles torn loose continued to drift down onto him and the remains of the plane.

_Mac?_

He turned around in his seat and scanned the area, trying to clear his head. Through his blurred vision, he could see she was not in the crumpled front seat.

_Mac?_

Slowly, painfully, Harm pulled himself out of the cockpit and eased himself to the ground.

_Mac! Where are you?_

Only silence answered his call. He stumbled around the ruins of the fuselage, until he saw her delicate hand sticking out from under the shattered wing.

_Mac? Mac! No! Please God! No! Sarah!_

As he began trying to lift the crumpled fuselage off her body, the scenery shifted from the Chaco forest to the sandy wastes north of Mirbullah. The Stearman had disappeared and Harm found himself standing on bluff looking down into a desert wadi.

He could see Mac dressed in a combat uniform. She was alive and seemed to be waving at him.

He was so relieved; he began to wave back until he realized she wasn't waving at him.

Harm watched as another Marine joined her. They seemed to confer for a moment, before the report of high powered rifle made the second soldier slump.

Mac barked out a name, but he could not make it out. She grabbed the soldier, but the Commander could see the exit wound. This soldier was mortally wounded. As she realized this, she turned to see where the shot came from.

Now Harm could see the killer laying down on top of another bluff aiming an M-40 sniper rifle at him. He looked like another Marine, but Harm was having trouble seeing his features. Something warm and slick covered the Commander's hands. Harm momentarily looked at his hands and saw they were covered with blood. The body that Mac had been holding was now in his hands.

Harm heard the second rifle report and felt his chest burst into flame. Harm looked down and saw blood spreading on Colonel MacKenzie's uniform – he was wearing Mac's uniform. Harm could see it was a fatal wound. Feeling dizzy, he drunkenly staggered away from the dead Marine. The Commander knew at best he had three, maybe four minutes of life left. He struggled to lift the M-16 that lay beside the dead man.

To Harm everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. He felt like he was drunk. The burning sensation in his chest was dulling him and he was beginning to feel cold.

The Commander lifted to his rifle and aimed it at the sniper until the third rifle report. Harm felt his forehead momentarily burn and then…nothing.

Harm seemed to be floating. Below him were the bloody bodies of Sarah MacKenzie and the other Marine. He tried to reach out to her, but her limp body was just out of his reach.

_Mac? Oh Dear God! Saraaaarrrhhh!_

As she receded from view, Harm could see JAG Corps Headquarters explode into a paroxysm of flame. Scattered about the debris strewn courtyard were the bullet riddled bodies of Admiral Chegwidden, Harriet Sims, Bud Roberts, Sturgis Turner, Jason Tiner and Jennifer Coates. The dark shadow figure stood looking at the carnage and then he saw an evil psychotic smile grace the hidden face of the shadow. The mouth opened and swallowed Harm in.

_Welcome Cher…._

Harm sat up gasping for breath. Sweat was pouring off him. He rubbed his hand through his closely cropped hair, as he tried to get his bearings and make sense of the images he had seen.

It was still night. He was in his bunk in the officer quarters. Harm slowly let his breath out as he began to relax. Throwing off his covers he swung his feet out of the bed and planted them onto the floor. He pulled his tall lean frame into a standing position.

He walked past the mirror and headed for the door to the outside. He stopped and looked at the image of himself. His black hair was matted against his head. He pulled his hand again through his hair, and thought about the nightmarish images he had re-lived. Except for Mac's deaths and the carnage at JAG Headquarters, everything in his dream had happened. He shivered involuntarily at the thought of Mac trapped underneath the mangled fuselage of that Stearman, or being shot to death by an unknown assailant and the nightmarish images of his dead friends.

Fortunately, none of this had happened. However when he did come back to consciousness after the plane crash in the Chaco Boreal, he remembered he could not find her and the panic he had felt. He stumbled down a path and found her pregnancy suit and other markers she had left for him.

He remembered thinking the worst, not realizing how close to the highway he had landed, and he nearly ran out in front of a speeding container truck. It roared past him horn blaring and then he saw an old pickup truck bearing down on him. All he could think was it was more of Sadik's goons after them. He drew his sidearm and began firing, hitting the truck's side mirror and the right front tire, blowing it out. He was stunned when Mac barreled out of the pickup and began berating him, or so it seemed to him.

She continued as they walked back to the plane, Harm occasionally snapping a comment back at her. They gathered what they could salvage from the plane and headed back to the truck. As they did, he blurted out that he loved her.

Mac was shocked into silence. At first she didn't say anything to him and then as they drove back to Ciudad del Este, the battle began in earnest. It culminated in their bedroom that night with Harm telling her why he had said it.

It was the words that Mac had longed to hear for nearly nine years. Then he told her they would have to wait a little longer. He had made a pact with the devil in order to rescue her. Now he had to pay his dues. He left her and a badly injured Clayton Webb, as he and Gunny went after Sadik. At least Webb couldn't act on his romantic interests from a hospital bed. Right now he had a job to do.

But Mac didn't sit idly by. Leaving Clay in the care of the local hospital, Mac went after Harm. After all, Gunny couldn't watch his six; that was her job. It always had been her job, why was this crazy former Top Gun acting this way? It was only after they missed catching Sadik on that train in outskirts of Cuidad del Este, that Harm told her he had to report in. It was then Mac learned he had been made part of Lieutenant Colonel Bushnell's SOUTHCOM Tactical Analysis Team.

His job outside of catching Sadik was unknown to her, but she knew it was dangerous. She tried to get him to talk, but he told her to table it for now. As far as Mac was concerned, that was the last straw. She was about to tell him off when he announced he had to get to the airport.

Mac thought the crash had jarred something loose in the Commander's head, then Harm told her. He had to report to his control, Alan Blaisedell, as soon as he could. Mac was left speechless. She wanted to argue, to fight, but this announcement had trumped her anger.

Mac also felt a cold hand of fear grip her heart. He had joined the CIA Air Corps. He had come after her to declare his love, and it cost him his job, the only job he had ever known and his soul. Mac couldn't face him. She told him out in front of the Hotel Sympatico that maybe they should just go back to being friends.

Harm was shattered, but somehow he got through to her. He made her promise when he got back in a month, they would talk.

For the next six weeks no one heard from him. Harm paid his blood debt to the Company, but Sadik got away clean disappearing into the Chaco Boreal.

When he walked back into the bullpen the morning after he left Langley, there she stood with the Admiral and Bud, looking as they did when he had gone off to the Patrick Henry.

He hadn't been in his office for ten minutes before she came in and sat down in front of him. 'Did you mean what you said back there?' was all she said as she pinned him to his chair with her hard brown eyes.

He remembered swallowing, trying find his voice before he finally croaked out 'Yes' Her expression softened momentarily before she started to get out of the chair. 'We'll talk this evening, my place, seven o'clock, and Harm, *don't mess this up.*'

Of course he was late, but when he arrived and she opened her door, he was ready for her. "I'm know I'm late, but you know how I like to make a grand entrance," she just stood there with her mouth open then she began to shake her head while smiling wryly at him.

They sat and talked about all the miscommunication, the hurtful things said, their feelings and finally how they felt about each other. But all that happened with Singer, and oddly enough the elephant in their lives, Paraguay, was not mentioned. Not even in passing. It was as if they had an unwritten agreement not to discuss those two points in their lives. How they could make a relationship work and not discuss that twilight zone period was only something Rabb and MacKenzie could accomplish. After all, they had been best platonic friends for eight years. If they could do that, why couldn't they throw a rug over the elephant and Singer's ghost?

After that evening, they shared lunches and dated when it was possible. They both agreed, though, to take it slow. Both had been hurt in the past and they decided it was better this way. Then Harm dropped the bombshell that rocked her world. He told her that he was still tied to the CIA. That was part of the deal with the devil that he made. The Agency still had their hooks in him and wasn't letting go just yet.

Now here they were in Iraq, playing roles that had personified them for eight years, and it made him realize how much time they had wasted. Plus the ghost and the elephant were banging on the door of their relationship, asking to be acknowledged and dealt with.

The longer they stayed together as a couple, the greater the urge became to lance those boils. Mirbullah was merely those phantoms personified. He wanted to end all this and get her out of here. What made that urge even stronger were her visions about his death. They were too distinct and vivid to ignore. Something bad was going to happen to both of them if they stayed here much longer. She felt it and now, he felt it too.

Having put on his shirt, he opened the door and stepped out into the cold night air. He made up his mind. It was time to face these demons once and for all, even if they destroyed their fragile relationship.

Harm stood at her door, not sure if he should knock or not. It was possible she was asleep. She might get mad. He might lose his nerve again. (Dammit Hammer, get a grip! Focus!)

Harm took a deep breath and was about to rap on her door, when it suddenly opened revealing a fully dressed and troubled looking Sarah MacKenzie. Somewhere in the background, her radio was softly playing some classic rhythm and blues.

"Harm?" Her voice betrayed confusion interlaced with a sprinkling of anger. "What are you doing here? Do you realize its zero two thirty five in the morning?"

"Thanks for the time update, Marine, I thought my watch might be off." he pushed his way passed her.

"Why don't you come on in?" she said snidely, as he stopped just behind her. She shook her head and shut the door. "Okay Harm, what is it?"

"Mac, we have to talk," Harm said in a rush.

"Harm," she said wearily massaging her eyes with one hand, "We talked all day yesterday. If you don't mind, I'm all talked out. I'd like to get some sleep, okay? We can talk in the morning, that is later this morning, if you don't mind." She moved to the door and opened it as an invitation for him to leave.

Harm smirked at her diversionary tactic. "You always sleep in your full uniform, Colonel? What is this, a new Marine regulation? Come on Mac, this is me; I know why you're still dressed. You're afraid to go to sleep, aren't you?"

She sighed heavily shutting the door. "I never should have told you," she muttered as she walked over and sat on the edge of her bed.

The former Top Gun could feel her fatigue. "Mac, you can't keep doing this. Something inside you is going to snap. I can't let you do this to yourself."

"Well what are you going to do, Navy? Chase the boogie man away?" She shook her head in frustration. "Look Harm, I'm really not up for this-"

Harm crossed over to her and got down on one knee and placed her hands in his. "Mac, please hear me out, okay?"

She looked at his hands caressing hers and then gave a nervous chuckle, "Harm you aren't thinking what I think you are, are you?" She looked into his troubled eyes. "Harm?"

Harm immediately stood up and walked away from her, "No, Mac, no, no, I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"

"Don't scare me like that, Flyboy," she said shakily.

He gave her a wry grin. "Knocked your socks off, didn't I?"

She let out a small laugh, "Well to be perfectly blunt, yes. I was going to tell you I don't have a thing to wear-" She stopped immediately when she understood the look on his face. He wanted to have 'the talk'.

The one they always tabled, put off, delayed. He wanted to talk about them.

Mac's breath hitched. Harm immediately came and sat down next to her and held her hands again.

"So you want to talk," she began with cautiously. She ducked her head, not daring to look into his eyes. Mac resisted the urge to get up and move away from him.

Harm lifted her chin and fastened those irresistible baby blues on her questioning face. "About us."

"Us." she said with trepidation. She felt light headed. Who was this stranger talking to her, and where was her tongue-tied aviator/lawyer?

"Yeah, Mac," he said staring intently at her. "Us."

She looked away for a moment, bit her lower lip and then faced him, stiffening her features. "Okay," she said in serious, calm voice.

"Okay," Harm began rubbing her hand "Okay um, Mac, we've been working together for eight years and ah, I know we've declared how we feel about each other, but before we go any further, I need to clear the, um, air,"

"Clear the air," she repeated dully. Where was he going with this? She found her courage deserting with every verbal stumble he made. Now she really didn't want to go down this road. Would Harmon Rabb, Jr. really want to talk about everything that had colored their relationship up to this point?

"Uh, Mac we haven't been on an even keel with each other since…ah, since-"

"Lieutenant Singer's death," she finished for him. Her expressive eyes told him all he needed to know. Singer's death was definitely part of what Mac thought they needed to talk about.

Now it was the aviator/lawyer's turn to feel the urge to avoid something he'd rather not discuss.

"Aw Maac, c'mon. We've gone from being good buddies and best of friends, to madly passionate one minute, and fighting like cats and dogs the next. I've noticed that our little play acting skit here gets very real sometimes. You seem so angry. Bud has noticed, Sturgis notices it and blames me, hell, even the Admiral thinks I've done something wrong and is pressing me for answers."

Mac gave him an impassive look. The Commander was trying to skirt around this. Well this time, she wasn't going to let him. If he wanted to have the talk – they would talk all right. About everything.

Harm knew that look. It was her 'tough as nails' Marine look. It would quickly be followed by her using physical force to get him out of her room if he was not careful. (Okay, rephrase Hammer) "Mac I know the dreams are bothering you and you're sleep deprived, but there's something else bothering you… what…Mac, what is it? Tell me."

Mac's eyes teared up. (Damn him, why does he refuse to talk about this?) Her anger and frustration made her façade shatter like fragile porcelain. She pulled her hands away, got up from the bed and folded her arms protectively across her chest as she walked away from him.

He knew what he had to say next might drive her out of his life forever, but he had to take that chance, he wanted his Ninja Girl back. Steeling himself, he took a header straight into the maw of the phantoms he thought were haunting them.

"So why did you go to Paraguay, Mac? You knew Webb had a chip on his shoulder since the Angel Shark case, and being reassigned as Station Chief of Paramaribo for helping us. Why did you do it? Why did you go?"

She turned around and faced him; her pretty features stained by tear trails, and clouded with anger and hurt. "You don't know? Harm, why didn't you tell me about your 'investigation' of Lieutenant Singer?"

Now his face became impassive. She was like a dog with a bone. Mac wasn't going to let this go easily, but he wasn't ready to discuss it either. "That was family business Mac-"

The Marine attorney's eyes flew open wide at his stonewalling. "Harm, I'm your best friend, you lied to me!"

The force of her accusation was stronger than Harm had expected. But he felt his point was just as important. "Mac, she insinuated that Sergei had gotten her pregnant! I wanted that child to be raised properly. He had to have a father-"

A sarcastic smile rippled across her lips as her eyes rolled heavenward. "Oh, here it comes, the great Harmon Rabb speech 'every child deserves to have a father!'"

It hurt, but the Naval Commander was trying to keep his anger in check where she was concerned. He was not going to react angrily to her because he knew that would do neither of them any good. He folded his arms protectively across his chest. "They do Mac, they always will."

Mac shook her head in disbelief at his stubborn attitude. "Harm, if you had told me the truth, I could have helped. We all could have helped."

Now it was Harm's turn to smirk sarcastically. "You don't know that Mac. The Admiral was under tremendous pressure at that time. With Manetti spying for the SecNav and Lindsey's report, the Admiral was on a tightrope. He couldn't have helped even if he wanted to."

Mac backpedaled. "Well I would have if you told me-"

Harm resisted the temptation to cut her off at the knees, but he did want her to know why he hadn't confided in her. "I didn't know that Mac, our relationship had so many ups and downs at that time-"

Mac moved toward him. She wanted him to know how much his trust of her meant. "But we were getting close Harm. Really close to something-"

Harm moved away as if a magnet implanted on his body was pushing him away from her. "I know Mac, and I'm sorry for that and for not trusting you, but at the time it seemed like the most logical thing to do-"

Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie used her best court tactic, verbal pummeling to drive home her point. "To threaten Loren Singer? To have Coates spy on her? To have Commander Manetti check up on her, and to have me do some investigative work on her without telling me why? Conducting your own separate investigation, independent of the official one?"

It was rare when this tactic worked on Harm in the courtroom, but outside the courtroom her cool rational logic worked. He lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry about the way I did it, but I'm not sorry I did it. I was trying to protect my brother." Well at least the logic worked, partially.

But MacKenzie was ready for him. So she went for the kill. "And it almost got you put away for murder Harm. If it hadn't been for that NCIS medical examiner Dr. Mallard and his forensic specialist Abby Scuito, your butt would be languishing at Leavenworth."

"Yeah, no thanks to Special Agent Gibbs, and Special Agent DiNozzo." He said obstinately trying to hold onto some semblance of a defense for his actions.

But she batted that out of the way too. "Harm, they were the ones who went to bat for you. Gibbs got DiNozzo to grill Lindsey until he admitted he had killed Singer."

Harm had to make one last try. "I know Mac, but that guy Gibbs ticked me off."

She smiled at his determination. It was a smile of genuine appreciation at his reason for saying this. It was pure male and pure Rabb. "That's because he's like you, stubborn and unorthodox. It might also have to do with the fact he's a Marine, well a former Marine."

Her humor was lost on the Commander. "He's not like me, and you're dropping chaff," He said dismissively.

Seeing her smile told him it was time to try again. "Mac, tell me, why did you go to Paraguay?"

She couldn't believe he still didn't get it. "It's simple Harm. You didn't *trust me*. I was ready for a *relationship* then and once again, even before the Singer mess, your interest in me had started to fade."

Now he moved toward her. He wanted to correct this misconception of hers. "Mac, my interest hadn't faded! There was a lot going on with Lindsey's report and working with Manetti. I just got busy, that's all."

The blank look on the Marine's face told him she wasn't convinced. "And afterwards?"

Harm tried one more time. "Mac, Gibbs had me at NCIS, grilling me. When I finally got out of jail, I felt abandoned, lost-"

"You weren't the only one Harm!" Her eyes blazed again with anger and hurt.

This time the aviator/lawyer decided to let her vent.

"I couldn't believe you had used me and lied to me and there was a time…I…all of us felt that you could have…you had…killed her."

Harm felt as if an anvil had been dropped on his chest. "Mac…."

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes again, her voice trembled with emotion. "So what was I going to do? I had lost my best friend, I had been betrayed; just another pawn for another damn man. I needed someone's comfort and since you weren't available and Clay was, I took what I could get."

He pulled a hand through his hair in frustration. "Took what you could get? Mac, you're not making any-"

She pinned him with her shattered, tearstained look. "I knew Clay secretly loved me. I had known it from day one. Oh what a trio we were, you liked me, I liked you, Clay liked me. Clay was jealous of you getting my attention. He tried for years to woo me away from you."

"He was? He did? That little-" Words started to tumble out of the aviator/lawyer's mouth like loose hard candy out of a broken jar.

She stilled him with one hand placed on his arm. "Power down Flyboy; the only times I saw him were the times we got together for his little missions we always found ourselves in the middle of. He wanted to be friends to both of us, but he also wanted more with me. I wasn't interested until…until…."

"I pushed you to him?" The realization was almost more than the Commander could handle.

"It was more than that Harm," she tried to explain, "I felt alone and lost-I had to redeem myself and the only way I could see doing that was by going on this mission with him."

Harm eyes locked onto hers again. The serious intent look in his features almost undid her right on the spot. "But Mac, you had to know it was a suicide mission."

She shook her head. "I knew it was dangerous, but it didn't seem suicidal at first. Then Gunny got captured and I felt responsible. I had to get him out, Harm."

Harm nodded. He understood the code she lived. "Marines never leave their own behind."

She gave a brief nod back in affirmation. "Yes and if it meant that I got killed doing it, at least I would have finally done something right."

Her last sentence made his face screw up in irritation. "You keep saying that. 'done something right'. What are you talking about?"

She sighed heavily. "Harm, The whole idea for me going down there in the first place was to act as legal counsel and approve the killing of those involved in the Stinger smuggling operation. Clay's Station Chief Edward Hardy had procured a Predator remotely piloted vehicle armed with Hellfire missiles to make sure the killing done was very surgical with minimal collateral damage. We thought we had eliminated the arms dealer and then-"

"Then what?"

Mac bit her lower lip again and lowered her head. "I had screwed up Harm," she said lifelessly, "I authorized the killing of Raul Garcia and he wasn't the brains behind the operation. Sadik Fahd was the head honcho. Gunny stumbled onto that fact and got caught trying to tell us. I was going to go in alone and rescue him, but I hadn't counted on Clay trying to impress me again by joining me. I guess maybe I even goaded him into it…a little"

"He was trying to impress you?" Harm was having trouble keeping up with the rapidly escalating events in her story.

"Yes, he was always trying to impress me, Harm. He figured if he flattered me enough I would melt into his arms."

Harm folded his arms protectively across his chest. "Huh; well that certainly worked MacKenzie."

Mac placed her hands on her hips, her anger briefly resurfacing. "Well if you hadn't been so damned bull headed with 'your father for a baby' mission, Navy, it wouldn't have mattered."

Harm grimaced at her comment. "Let's get back to rescue of Gunny, Marine. Mac, you had to know that was a suicide mission. I know that Webb had to know that."

She nodded again, heading back over to the bed and sitting down again. "He did. I did too, but it didn't matter to me. Nothing mattered anymore except getting Gunny back."

Harm walked back over and sat down next to Mac, watching her tell this story. She obviously had never talked about it with anyone. Not even Clay. "Even if it cost you your life?"

Mac looked up at him and gave a sarcastic snort. "What life? My life didn't matter to me anymore Harm, there was no one left to care what happened to me-"

Harm took her hands in his again. "My God, Mac, I cared-"

She pulled her hands away and glared at him. "And you damn sure showed it, Harmon."

That made him shrink back a little. Satisfied her comment had found its mark, she continued. "No, if I didn't succeed, then I didn't want to come back. When that anti-tank grenade blew our SUV on its side, I didn't know if Gunny was dead or alive – the last we saw, he had been shot. At that moment I didn't care if I lived or died. As far as I was concerned, it was over Harm. Clay and I had failed."

The former Top Gun could feel the shame and self hatred in her voice. Instinctively he reached out toward her again. "Mac…Sarah."

She looked up again at him, despite her best efforts; her upended emotions had her eyes glistening. "When Sadik had us and began torturing Clay to get the information he wanted, he took the brunt of the torture, volunteering to go first to save me. God Harm, he looked so bad, I thought it was the end for him. This man who had been trying for eight years to impress the hell out me had finally done it, and it was costing him his life."

He could have at this moment mentioned his own sacrifice, but he was more worried about her state of mind right now. "Sarah, please don't talk like this." He said softly, as he absently brushed at her hair.

She looked up at him; the hot tears that had been pooling at the corners of her eyes began spilling down her cheeks again. "Why not Harm? Wasn't it you who told Sturgis that men who fell in love with me ended up dead or wished they were? Well you were right, Flyboy. Dalton, Chris, John, and now Clay. I promised myself when it came up for my turn to be tortured I would escape if I could and take Clay…with me."

The finality in her tone stunned the aviator/lawyer into silence. His eyebrows rose in shock as his eyes widened. The implications of her words meant something to Harm far more serious than he had thought Sarah MacKenzie was capable of. The last time he thought this Marine attorney had reached this point was after her Captain's Mast when they were negotiating with that Iranian Bedouin chief for Jack Keeter's F-117.

The former Top Gun almost didn't hear the rest of her story. "I promised myself that if we got out of this, I would nurse Clay back to health. I owed him Harm. He gave up everything for me. God forgive me, he was giving up his life for me. What kind of monster am I?"

The Navy Commander somehow found his voice. "Sarah, you're not a monster." He said, his voice nearly breaking with anguish at her hurt. "Please don't- He just did what I would have done, what anybody who…who loved you would have done."

She brushed her hand absently at her tears. "That's right Harm, for some unknown reason, I ask the ultimate sacrifice of the men who love me. Clay was willing to give his life. When I saw there was no way to escape and Ms. Robinson had betrayed us, I knew it was the end. Sundance wasn't going to walk away from this one, so I was ready to face death. I deserved it."

"And then you came through that door." She gave him a watery smile. "God, I was never so happy to see you and so mad at you at the same time for causing me to cheat death."

"You thought Clay was dead." It was a statement that hid his turbulent emotions.

Her voice was thick again. "I did, until I saw Gunny loading him into the jeep. I didn't know how long he had to live, so I gave him what he wanted; what every dying man wants."

"A kiss from a beautiful girl." Harm's voice was barely above a whisper as it finally dawned on him what he had witnessed and why, while he was with the CIA, she was keeping company with Clayton Webb. He may have thought it was love, but she was just repaying a debt and trying to find refuge with the only person she thought she had left. Now Harm felt light headed.

Mac smiled through her tears, shaking her head slowly. "You finally understand. It's only taken you how many months to figure this out? Well, no matter, it's water under the bridge. The point was, I thought I had done this to him and I had to at least make his final moments pleasant."

"He had given up his life and though I didn't know it at the time - you had given up your career-" She looked at him trying to absorb all she had told him. "Harm, your career means everything to you. You became a pilot because of your father and the Navy is the only life you've ever known."

Harm could only look her. What did it take to get this woman to understand? He'd said the words, wasn't that enough?

Mac meanwhile had taken his silence to mean he still didn't get it. So she continued. "Then you very nearly gave your life when we crashed that farmer's plane in the Chaco Boreal. I couldn't believe I had almost done it again. I had to get away, that's why I left you in the plane."

Harm held her hands and this time he did not let go when she tried to pull away. She wanted him to understand.

"I was giddy and amazed to be alive for the second time in as many days. I had been spared again, but for what? I couldn't look in that cockpit and see you dead. I blindly reached out and felt for your pulse. When I found it, I just lost it, I guess. I only knew that I had to find a way to get you back to Cuidad del Este, because I didn't know how badly you were hurt. So I went back to the compound and found the pickup truck. I had left you the pregnancy suit and some other items as markers in case you woke up and were able to get out of the plane."

Things were now finally beginning to make sense to the Commander. It was so simple and yet at the same time, so complicated. He broke in at this point.

"When I came to, and you were gone, I went crazy; I thought you had been thrown from the plane, I found your suit; I thought I was going to find your body any moment, and then I stumbled out onto the highway and was almost hit by a truck. I decided to flag down the next vehicle that came around that curve-"

It was her first genuine smile since he appeared at her doorstep this evening/morning. "By shooting it full of holes? That's a great plan, Flyboy,"

Harm felt himself getting defensive. "Look, I had a concussion and wasn't thinking straight, and you sure as hell weren't stopping; besides everything was blurry, I didn't know it was you."

"Well you sure stopped me, I'm just glad you didn't kill me, although if I didn't know better, maybe you were trying to kill me."

She started to pull away again but this time he reached out and stilled her. Her smile temporarily disappeared. He was being dead serious. "Mac, I would never do that, no matter how I felt about you. I was mad at you, though,"

"For kissing Clay." She declared blandly.

Harm ran a hand through his hair in frustration again. "Hell, yes, for kissing Webb! What did you expect me to do, throw a party for you two?"

Now it was her turn to become frustrated with him, again. "But Harm, you know why I did it-"

"But I didn't know it at the time Mac! I was so mad…."

She gave him another sardonic sneer. "…and I didn't pick up on it at first. But the more you needled and picked and poked… I kept saying to myself, 'what in the hell is wrong with him?'"

He got nose to nose with her. "Oh I don't know, maybe it had to do with the conk on noggin when I did that controlled flight into the terrain. Mac, of course I was mad at you; I was spoiling for a fight!"

It was like the old days when they fought over a client. No undercurrent of other baggage, just Ninja Girl and Flyboy having yet another disagreement. "And you got one Navy. I was ready to tear you a new one for being so asinine. But just when I was ready to do that, you would shift gears. Then when we got back to the hotel, it started up again."

"I just wanted to know where I stood with you Mac; it was obvious to me at the time you were falling for him."

"You were being a jealous jerk, and if you hadn't yelled out how you really felt, and how you had resigned your commission to come after me, I wouldn't have figured out what was rattling around in that crazy Flyboy brain of yours."

"Crazy Flyboy brain? Well, without operating instructions Jarhead, you can be a real head trip!"

She suddenly stood up. "A head trip? Whoa, Whoa, back it up there Stickboy! Where do you get off calling me a head trip when you haul off and tell me you're married?"

"It was a joke, Mac." He said dismissively, not wanting to get into this either.

But she wanted an answer. "Yeah Harm; a real bad one. Why Harm? Why did you marry her?"

He feigned ignorance. "Who?"

She wanted to strangle him. "You know who! Catherine Gale! Dammit Harm! She tried to sink our case for the Angel Shark's crew-"

He tried her tactic – rational logic. "Mac, she was just doing what she was told to do. It was nothing personal."

The Marine attorney was not buying it. "Nothing personal? She was willing to let those men continue to rot on the ocean floor as possible traitors! How could you marry her just to find me?"

Like or not she was going to get the answer out of him even if she had to open him up like a tin can and pull it out of him. It surprised the Navy attorney that it mattered so much to her, but if he took a moment and thought about it, it really wouldn't have surprised him at all. After all if he could be jealous, why couldn't she?

"I would have done anything at that moment in time to find you, Mac. It was worth it-"

"Marrying someone you don't love just to find me?" Now she was beginning to understand. He smiled at her.

"It wasn't a marriage Mac – look, this is hard to explain."

Now she folded her arms across her chest and her look dared him to say something stupid. "Try me, I'm not going anywhere."

"Okay. Look Mac, her mother was dying and it was her last wish that her daughter be married before she died. I went to hospital to try and talk Catherine one last time into giving me the information I needed to find you. I went into the room with her to see her mother. She mistook me for Catherine's boyfriend as did her brother."

Despite what her inner voice was screaming at her, she felt herself starting to believe this cock and bull story. "Okay." She said hesitantly.

Seeing he was winning her over made Harm confident enough to continue pressing his case. "They thought she was dying so they wanted to give her that last wish; her daughter married right there in the hospital. Catherine told me if I did this she would get me the information I was looking for. She knew how I felt about you – she even told me so."

Mac's sullen look disappeared. "So it was sham." The Marine Lieutenant Colonel said guardedly.

Harm shook his head. "Yes…I mean no…no Mac, for her mother it was real. I had Bud pose as preacher and he married us."

Mac couldn't help the laugh that escaped her. "Bud married you and Catherine?"

Harm gave her a sly grin. "Yeah the best part was that he used a same sex marriage ceremony for us. Catherine's mother didn't care; she just wanted her daughter married."

Mac became somber again. "And then she died?"

"No, she recovered." Harm chuckled at the irony of that moment.

Mac's eyes flew open. "She recovered?"

Harm smiled sheepishly at her shocked look. "Um yeah; and she knew that Catherine and I were pulling the wool over her eyes, well trying to pull the wool over her eyes."

"She did?" Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie still could not believe what she was hearing.

"Yeah, and she told me not to tell Catherine."

She moved closer to him. "Did you? I mean, not tell Catherine-"

For the first time, despite the proximity of her body to his, he felt he could speak without his tongue twisting into knots. "I just couldn't Mac; her mom had just recovered from heart failure and I didn't want to lose the chance to get the information I needed to find you."

"So what was this 'all important' information?" She feared the worst, but silently prayed for the best.

"A meeting with Deputy Director Harrison Kershaw." He said simply.

"You started working for him then, didn't you?" Mac felt the floor beneath her begin to give away.

Harmon Rabb stood up and reached out and took her hands again, rubbing them. "No, first I had to resign when the Admiral wouldn't let me come after you."

She gave him a small tenuous smile. "Of course he couldn't let you do that, Harm, the violation of international treaties-"

He nodded. "I knew that Mac, but I even tried the education of foreign military lawyers angle."

She couldn't help what came out of her mouth next. "Yeah, that turned out so well in Russia."

Harm showed momentarily annoyance, but this moment was too pivotal to have it degenerate into another disagreement. "Right; the Admiral was just as convinced as you are about that idea. I was going crazy Mac …I had a dream…a nightmare…that Webb had gotten you both shot…I couldn't let that happen Mac…so I remembered what you had asked me on the Guadalcanal."

"Would you give it all up for me?" she repeated those words she had said oh so many years ago off the coast of Indonesia on that amphibious assault ship.

He looked at her solemnly. "You never heard my answer that day, but after you left the room I said, 'Yes, I would'"

"Oh God." The floor was beginning to feel rubbery.

Now that he had finally told her this much, he had to get the rest out. "So I had to resign. The Admiral pushed me into a corner. He wasn't surprised when I did it, but he did ask me what I was going to do when I found you."

"And?" Her hopes soared once again.

"I said I hadn't thought it through that far yet." Mac felt her anguish creeping into her.

"I think I need to sit down."

As she moved back to the bed, he followed her hoping his next words would help her. "I did have an idea. I went back to Kershaw told him what I had done and that I wanted to find both of you. He agreed to it because of my persistence. It wasn't easy; they had written all three of you off. I finally convinced him that if he let me go down there I would finish the mission, kill Sadik and destroy the missiles."

But this was the last thing Sarah MacKenzie wanted to hear. She stopped and turned to face him. "So you were an officially sanctioned agent – a sweeper?"

Harm realized what she was probably thinking but she had to know all of it. "Yes and no; but I had no intention of killing either of you. I was going to kill Sadik and anyone that stood in my way of finding you. Finding Gunny in Ciudad del Este was a complete surprise. I had no idea he had contacted Kershaw and was instructed to wait for me."

It was bad enough that Harm had been pulled over to the dark side, but not the man she had cajoled the Admiral in accepting at JAG Corps Headquarters as the office manager. "Was Gunny going to-"

Harm wanted to quash her negative thoughts quickly. "No, he agreed with me. We would get you two out alive or die trying."

'Or die trying' the words she had just spoken to him. "So *you* were on a suicide mission." She said quietly. How could she have misjudged him so badly? She pondered.

Harm tried the only way he knew how to fix this mess. By continuing to tell the truth. "Only if I didn't find you alive; there would be nothing for me to live for…to go back to…Sarah."

Her given name. Sure he had used it on and off since Paraguay, but never had it had as much of an impact as it did at this moment in time. Sarah MacKenzie's defenses shattered into tiny fragments.

For the first time since she stood out in the rain that evening in May looking up at his apartment window that she had felt her love for this man so strongly, it was almost overwhelming. It was as if she was waking from a long horrible nightmare. "Oh God Harm, how could I…how could we be so stupid...so-"

In the background the radio was beginning to play a song by James Ingram that truly defined their relationship.

Harm could see the change in her and it allowed him to relax, really relax with her for the first time in years. "So dense? I don't know Mac, I guess it's our sense of timing and that Rabb and MacKenzie love corollary you've been talking about lately."

Sarah MacKenzie's heart began beating faster. This was real. She wasn't just in casual relationship with him just because it was safer than being alone. Not anymore. Harmon Rabb, Jr. had declared in typical Rabb language just how he felt about this stubborn, rational, logical, yet emotional thinking Jarhead. He didn't want just a casual relationship and it scared her – just a little.

Harm saw a look in her eyes he had long thought dead. It was something she had locked away from him for years. Now it was back. He nervously licked his lips.

"Sarah?" He said in husky voice, he felt a lump forming in his throat.

"Yes Harm?" She returned in the same voice. (This isn't happening. It's not real. Please God, if this is dream, don't let me wake up!)

Without saying another word. Harm reached out and pulled her into a tight embrace. She stood on her tiptoes and held onto this daredevil, flying ace, stubborn, irrational lawyer as tight as she could, never wanting to let go.

Mac felt tears leaking from her eyes as she sniffled. Then she felt tears dropping into her hair and working their way down to her scalp. She looked up to see tears running down Harm's face.

"Harm, oh Harm…." Mac cried softly, she gripped him even tighter.

His voice was hoarse. "I, ah, thought I had lost you for good, this time."

She lead him back to the bed. They sat down and brushed at each other's tears. "You are never ever going to lose me, Harmon Rabb," she said in a thick but joyful voice.

The Navy Commander could only nod quietly. Tears continued to trail down his face. Her tears began again in earnest, but this time they weren't tears of anger, hurt or sadness. These were tears of joy and relief.

The song ended on hopeful note, defining the hope that they were both feeling right now.

Each comforted the other. All the hurt, all the misunderstandings, all the hidden anger was finally open to the cleansing air. The last hug lasted the longest.

(Oh Sarah, if you only knew how long-) He stopped himself in mid-thought. She had to know this too. He wanted to tell her, let her know. "Mac, if you only knew-"

"I know Harm, I know," she soothed, continuing to hug him. "Just hold me right now and whatever you do, Flyboy, don't let go."

He smiled into her hair. "You've got it…Ninja-Girl."

As he held her, he realized something else he had taken great care to keep hidden from her, for fear that she didn't want that, began to awaken in him.

Mac, being so close to the man she loved, felt stirrings within her as well.

Her eyes opened. That pulsing she had felt a few days ago was returning. "Harm? Uh Harm?"

Harm chuckled his first carefree chuckle in long, long time. "Sorry Mac, I just can't-"

She looked up into his expressive eyes. "Harmon Rabb, if you say you're sorry for how you feel right now, I'll slug you." The smile on her face told him what he was feeling – what they were feeling – was all right. It was more than all right. It was great, it was fantastic, it was—

Wrong. At least for the moment. No matter how good it felt. They couldn't do this right now. Mac was playing with the buttons on his shirt.

"Umm Mac?" She seemed obsessed for the moment with the buttons on his shirt. The more she toyed with his shirt, the harder it was getting for him to speak.

"Uhh, Maac, really, we…really, um…need to…ah, stop."

"Oh Haarrrmm," she rolled seductively off her tongue as she breathed into his ear, "Don't you think we've waited long enough? Who's gonna know?"

That almost undid him. His body was beginning to betray him. He had to focus on the mission. "Mac, we …we can't…we can't do this. God help me, I don't know why at this particular moment, but we can't do this…not when we still have clients to save and a killer to find."

Mac looked up at her man through love hazed eyes. He was right. Now who was being the rational logical one? Mac pursed her lips and smoothed his rumpled shirt. "When you're right, Commander, you're right," she sighed.

Harmon Rabb, Jr. wanted so badly to fulfill her desires – his too. "Sorry Mac, we can't do this here. But I promise, when this is over-"

She gave him as serious a look as she could muster at this moment. "You'd better stick to this promise Commander, or I'm gonna kick your tight little six all around JAG Headquarters and I'll get Harriet to help me."

Harm laughed. "Okay Colonel," He gave her another hug just to seal the deal. That hug lead to a peck on the top of her head, but Mac wasn't going to let it go at that. As he started to pull away, she pulled his face to hers and their lips connected. For his part, he didn't exactly resist. It was only when she slipped her tongue in that Harm felt a bolt of electricity bolt through him.

He pulled her back and they both stared hungrily at each other. Mac was the first to speak.

"Sorry, I just-"

Harm put an index finger to her lips. "Apology accepted Mac; I didn't exactly fight you on this you know,"

"Yeah," she grinned "I kinda noticed that."

"Believe me Mac if this case were over, there would be no question about what we would do right now. But we owe it to those Cobra pilots to find out who wants to frame them for this murder. Why is it so important that they take the fall?"

"Well, also there is this so called…expert…." Mac lost her battle trying to stifle the yawn that had been growing in her since they had begun hugging.

Harm smiled. Finally feeling sleepy Marine?

She nodded, her eyes half closed. "What can I say, Commander?"

"Just tell me it isn't me putting you to sleep."

"Nah…," she let out another yawn, "…try 72 hours…without…sleep."

Okay, I'm gonna let you get some rest then. Harm looked down at his watch and frowned. Mac, my watch has stopped, I think the battery is dead. Can that internal clock of yours tell me what time is?

She let out a content chuckle. "Honest to God Harm, for the first time in my life, I have no idea."

Harm joined her chuckle. "Well do you think you can take a guess?"

"I could look at my watch," she replied playfully.

He gave her a quick peck on the neck. "I'd rather you use those great timekeeping skills of yours and try and tell me."

That kiss, though only a light one, sent shivers rocketing through her body. "Okay," she said trying to steady her voice. She was quiet for a moment before she broke the comfortable silence again.

"Um, Harm? How will we know if I'm right?"

He smiled broadly at her uncertainty. "I guess we'll just have to hope you're right, Jarhead," he replied in joking manner. "What's the last moment you remember what time it was?"

She thought for a moment. An impish smile came to her face. "I could say something to the effect of 'frankly dear sir, I don't give a damn-'"

"Maaac," he said warningly

"Oh all right, spoil sport," she huffed in mock frustration. "It was, umm, zero two forty one when we first sat down on my bed."

"Mac, we must've stood up and sat down at least a dozen times since then…."

She looked questioningly into his beautiful baby blues. "Did you keep count?" She cocked one eyebrow coyly at him.

"No!" He said a little too emphatically. He then looked at her seriously. "Did you?"

She shook her head and chuckled again. "No, you were saying some pretty mind-blowing things there, Squid."

"I wasn't alone in those mind-blowing revelations, Gyrene."

She looked at him thoughtfully. "Gyrene? That's a new one. Where did you get that one?"

"Heard a Sailor say it to a Marine the other day." He replied casually, "Do you like it?"

"Gyrene," she said solicitously. "I like that, Swabbie." Her grin was garnished with a tinkle of playful laughter.

Harm's face scrunched up in consternation. "Swabbie? I'm not sure I like that one."

She nodded with mock seriousness. "Why don't we stick with the nicknames we've been using up to now?"

He smiled easily at her joke. "All right Marine. So, are you gonna tell me how much time you think has passed?"

She pulled out his embrace and playfully slapped him on the chest. "I'm trying okay? I think it been, like twenty minutes"

"'Like, twenty minutes' Mac? I think you've been listening to Coates too much." He teased.

"So sue me, Sailor," she deadpanned. "Look, twenty minutes is the best I can come up with."

"What time is it now?" He pressed. "No peeking at your watch, Marine." He gently admonished.

She let out a playful grunt. "Great, what is this, a test? Okay, it's zero three fifteen, no, make that sixteen."

Harm glanced at her watch and shook his head. "How do you do that?"

Mac let out a laugh that surprised even her. "I'll teach you Squid; you'll be amazed how easy it is to learn."

They were both quiet again. Not out of embarrassment or awkwardness. It was a comfortable silence; something they had really missed.

"So Harm," she said breaking the silence "Why did you want to know?"

"Well it's a sure bet we aren't going to get much sleep now, Jarhead."

"You're right," she readily agreed. "Harm, I feel more alive right now than I did in Cuidad del Este-

"Then maybe we should discuss the dreams you've been having." She looked away from him. "Mac…Sarah?"

There was genuine fear in her face. "Harm, I really don't want to spoil this moment with-"

Harm quieted her concerns by again placing his index finger on her lips. "Mac you've seen my death and told me how it happens. Now you need to know I've seen yours as well and you need to know what I've seen."

Mac looked at him intently. "This is no time to-"

He grabbed both of her arms holding her in place. Normally that kind of move would result in the Commander being manhandled by her, but not this time. His words were too chilling. "Mac, I saw you being killed. You were on patrol with another Marine north of here and I saw, and felt, the wounds that killed you."

She searched his eyes. "Harm, are you sure?"

He nodded. "As sure as I can be, Sarah. I've never had these kinds of visions before. They only happen when you are in danger."

Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie led Harm back to the bed. "You could be wrong, you know," she said sagely, "Not everything in these dreams-"

He quickly cut off her optimistic talk. "This one's different, Mac. It changes ever so slightly every night as if it is being fine tuned, like a radio signal. But now another dimension has been added."

"Another dimension?"

"I see the same shadow figure that causes your death now destroying JAG Headquarters and killing the Admiral and the others."

Mac felt genuine fear for her aviator/lawyer. "Harm-"

"No, Mac, it's not my imagination. Something bad is getting ready to happen."

She got up and walked away from him again. "Mac?"

She sighed and turned around to face him. "This is frightening Harm, I won't lie to you. Harm, I can't let you die."

Harm nodded. "And I can't let you die, Mac."

"So what do we do, Harm? How do we stop this…this whatever it is that is threatening to destroy us and our friends?"

"We fight it," he said simply as he reached out and touched her face.

Sarah MacKenzie looked at Harmon Rabb as if he was seeing him for the first time. "Fight it how, Harm? I'm not even sure how to fight visions."

"We warn the Admiral," suggested Harm.

"I can see the look on his face now, Squid." Mac countered. "He's not going to buy it."

"Mac, he knows you do have visions. You used them to find me," argued Harm

"Harm, you were a missing person, besides you had the vision about the about the attack on JAG Corps Headquarters-"

"You could warn him instead of me-"

"Harm, I pressed my luck pretty far by trying getting him to believe I could find you, if they hadn't been desperate and if they hadn't found you-"

"Mac we'll never forgive ourselves if we don't warn them."

"I'm not fond of straitjackets you know; they're not very figure flattering-"

"Come on Mac, we both know he'll believe you over me."

She threw up her hands in surrender "Okay, okay, but I'm going ask for adjoining rubber rooms if he doesn't believe me."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it Mac. Now you should get some sleep. I'll get out of here.

"You take one step toward the door Flyboy, and I'll pin your six to the floor."

"Mac, we really can't-"

"Harm, crazy as it seems, I need to have you nearby in order to sleep. The last time I slept without visions was when you held me on those steps a few nights ago remember?"

"Mac, I'm not sure Briggs is going to like us hot bunking it."

"Look you don't have to sleep in bed with me, though if I could convince you," Harm gave her an exasperated look. "Okay, okay, can't blame a girl for trying. Just say you'll stay Harm. Please?"

"Okay Mac, I'll stay. I'm not sleepy anyway. I'll just review our notes up to this point on the case."

Mac yawned again and laid down on the bed. "Sure I can't talk you into joining me…?"

"Maaac…."

"All right Hammer, you had your chance. G'night Navy."

"Sleep tight Marine, you've got two hours before reveille."

"Thanks for that reminder Harmon."

"Just trying to keep you on your toes MacKenzie. Remember, two hours."

"Yeah, yeah" she grumbled as she drifted off to sleep.

Harm looked over at her when it was apparent she was sound asleep. "Sweet dreams, Marine."

-TBC…


	31. Chapter 30

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 30

0515 Hours Local

Visitor/Bachelor Officer Quarters, 36th MEU

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Harmon Rabb awoke to see Sarah MacKenzie break from under her covers as she stretched and yawned.

"Rise n' shine Sailor," she said smiling, "It's another glorious day—"

"Yeah, yeah, I know, 'in the Marine Corps'," Harm grumbled. "Except I'm not in the Corps, Devil Dog."

"Too bad for you Navy," she teased. Her demeanor changed when she saw the aviator/lawyer wince, "Are you all right?"

"Didn't anticipate falling asleep; guess I was more exhausted than I thought. Haven't slept upright like this for a while," he said rubbing his back, "I'll be okay as soon as I work this kink out of my back."

Mac got up and walked over to him, "Here, I'll help-"

Harm averted his eyes. He really didn't understand why he was feeling this way. He'd been with plenty of other women. So why was he shy and tongue tied around her? Maybe it had to do with the fact she was different from the others, maybe it had to do with the fact that she had captured his soul, maybe it had to do with the fact that she was just one of those women who reduced men to monosyllables, or maybe it had to do with the fact she was barely dressed, and ever the gentleman, Harmon Rabb, Jr. was trying his best to remain a gentleman.

"Uh Mac, don't you think you ought to, um, cover up first? When did you do that?" he said referring to her lack of outer clothes.

Mac stopped and looked down at the bra and panties she had on then she looked back at him and smirked. "Just close your eyes Navy and pretend this is one of your erotic dreams."

"How do you know I have erotic dreams about you Mac?" he asked aghast.

Mac came over to him and began massaging the lower part of his back. "I figure you're like 99.9% of the guys who fantasize about their girlfriends, now hold still_." _While enjoying having the normally cocky aviator/lawyer at a loss for words, if she were truthful, she admitted to herself, she'd confess that most ladies, including her,

fantasize about their boyfriends.

"You're not making it easy Marine," he said uncomfortably.

"Just concentrate on relaxing that knotted muscle, Flyboy," Mac said smiling as she worked on his back. "How does that feel?"

"It feels great Mac," he said getting up quickly and moving away from her.

"Whatsa matter Navy?" she teased, "feeling weak around the Marine?"

"I plead the fifth," Harm said winking at her.

"Flirt," she shot back.

"You're the one barely dressed, MacKenzie."

"Well maybe you ought to even the odds," she said flirtatiously.

"Tempting Marine, very tempting, but we have a court date in less than five hours, so we'd better prepare for that and shelve the mischievous thoughts for now,"

She put her hands on her hips and threw him a sarcastic smirk. "Harmon Rabb did anyone ever tell you you're better than a cold shower?"

Harm smirked. "Lots of times. You'll thank me later Marine, now let me get out of here so that you can get dressed in private."

"It would be more fun if you stayed…" Mac said ending the sentence like an invitation.

"Maaac," Harm warned though it sounded more like pleading to the Marine.

Mac snickered. "Gotcha Navy."

Harm just shook his head smiling as he opened the door and stepped outside into the cool pre-dawn darkness. As he left Mac's quarters, he did not see Corporal Devin Richards watching him.

Richards watched as the Commander made his way back to his quarters. The Force Recon Corporal smiled sardonically at the Navy lawyer trying to make sure no one saw him leave the Marine Lieutenant Colonel's hut. "Too bad Commander, got you on candid camera."

Corporal Richards tucked his pocket-sized video-cam in his bandolier pouch and made his way back to Darcy Livingston's quarters.

0955 Hours Local

BLT Headquarters, 36th MEU

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Harm and Mac joined Captain Floyd Johnson at the defense table. They settled into their chairs as Ben Lukens and Fred Buell were lead to their chairs by the MPs.

The Cobra pilot turned to Harm. "For what it's worth Sir, thank you for believing in us. Whatever the outcome, I just wanted you to know. I'm sorry for being such a jackass."

Floyd Johnson looked from the Commander to the Cobra pilot.

Harm smiled at Lukens, "If I were in your place Lieutenant, I probably would have done the same thing,"

Fred Buell turned to Mac. "What's going to happen to us Ma'am?"

Mac winced inwardly at the scared look in the Chief's eyes. "I mean, if they find us guilty?"

The attractive Marine attorney laid her hand gently on his. "This hearing is only to determine if there is enough evidence to warrant a court martial, not to determine your guilt or innocence, Chief. If they determine a court martial is necessary, then we'll have a trial and the Commander, Captain, and I will do our best to get you off."

"But what if you don't get us off?" he countered. The Marine JAG Corps attorney knew the belligerence in his voice masked his fear.

"We'll do our best Chief," Harm promised. "We're not going to abandon you, no matter what the outcome of this hearing."

That seemed to calm the man down. Mac shot her partner a grateful look.

Captain Johnson nodded in agreement. "Don't worry Chief; we'll do everything we can. I promise."

Harm and Mac exchanged a look. Up till now, Captain Floyd Johnson had been more of an observer than an actual participant in the hearing. Both he and Major Vince Barnett, the 36th MEU legal liaisons had stayed in the background on this case letting the JAG attorneys do all the work.

"I know I shouldn't be asking this Sir," said Ben Lukens asking the question everyone else wanted to ask. "But why the sudden interest in our welfare?"

Captain Johnson didn't waste any words. "I thought you two were guilty at first, Lukens, I won't deny that, but the Commander and Colonel's defense of both of you made me re-examine the circumstances surrounding Lieutenant Dodge's death. Too many things don't add up." Harm suddenly had a new found respect for this man – up till now he thought that Johnson was like Barnett and didn't care whether Lukens and Buell swung or not. He looked over at Mac; she too was smiling. (We're winning them over one by one, thought Harm, At least he'll be on our side if there is a trial….)

The Cobra pilot was about to respond when the bailiff walked into the room. "All rise! The Honorable Colonel Clifford R. Blakely is now presiding!"

Blakely made his way into the room and up to his seat. He sat down, reviewed his papers and then looked out at the counsels and the others in the courtroom.

"Please be seated." When everyone was seated, the Colonel looked over at Harm, Mac and Johnson. "Will the defendants and their counsel please rise?"

The JAG Corps judge looked sternly at the Cobra gunship crew. "In the case of docket number 5121219,VR-7. The United States versus 2nd Lieutenant Benjamin F. Lukens and Chief Warrant Officer Fredrick P. Buell, per the convening authority and based on the given testimony and the initial JAGMan investigation team's report, I find there is sufficient evidence for a trial."

Ben Lukens looked briefly over at his weapons officer who was stoically looking straight ahead.

"Lieutenant Lukens, Chief Warrant Officer Buell, you are both are to be remanded to the custody of this unit's military police detachment and returned to the BLT Detention area until 0900 tomorrow, seven July 2003 when trial proceedings will begin."

The judge looked directly at Harm and Mac who had suspected that they would not win, but hearing the actual pronouncement made it a reality. Now they would have to work hard to prove the gunship crew was innocent and hadn't committed murder. Failure to do so could mean a death sentence for Lieutenant Lukens and Chief Buell.

"Does the defense wish to enter a plea at this time?"

Harm and Mac exchanged quick knowing glances. "Not guilty, your Honor," Harm said in a firm voice.

Blakely motioned to the court reporter. "Enter a plea of not guilty for the defendants."

He looked out and addressed the entire room. "The General Courts Martial will take place as soon as a proper jury has been selected. This hearing stands adjourned."

The bang of the gavel shattered the unreality of the situation.

The aviator/lawyer looked at his Marine partner. "What just happened?"

Mac shook her head in sympathy, "We lost, Flyboy…."

A.J. Chegwidden was pinching the bridge of his nose; he felt another headache coming on. "Colonel, let me get this straight, you want me to put Headquarters on a higher state of alert because you had a vision about us being attacked by terrorists?"

At least the Lieutenant Colonel had the good sense to sound embarrassed. "Uh, yes, Sir. Admiral, I know how this sounds…."

A.J. rummaged around in the middle drawer of his desk for his extra strength aspirin. Damn, he was out.

"Believe me, Colonel, you do not want to go there." The Admiral sighed heavily knowing he was going to regret asking her this. "Mac, just how sure are you about this?"

Mac gave Harm a vengeful look. "Sure enough to convince the Commander and have him call you, Sir."

"I figured as much," he grumbled.

Mac wanted to help her commanding officer as much as she could at this point. "Sir couldn't you explain it away as drills? I heard that Lieutenant Singer conducted several drills while you were at the Pentagon when we were hunting Kabir."

That just made A.J.'s head throb even more. "Mac, don't try to help me, please. I'll take what you've given to me under consideration."

"Sir," Mac didn't want the Admiral to just dismiss this.

The JAG rubbed his eyes trying to will away the throbbing. It wasn't working. "I said I'll take it under consideration, Colonel. You and the Commander better get ready for that trial."

Mac was the model of Marine efficiency. "We're already working on it Sir."

A.J. smirked at Mac's cockiness. "You'd better be," he warned, "call me if you need anything else."

"Aye Sir."

(Ever the dedicated Marine,) he mused. He couldn't help what came out his mouth next. "And Colonel, try to keep you visions to a minimum, or at least make them happy ones."

"I'll try Sir." Mac's voice betrayed her self-consciousness about his comment.

Chegwidden hung up the phone and shook his head. He scrubbed his face with his other hand and sighed. "Tiner!" he called out. Picking up his receiver AJ punched the second line on his phone.

Jason Tiner immediately appeared in the doorway holding a large bottle of extra strength aspirin. The Admiral nodded his head and Chegwidden's Yeoman dutifully gave his commanding officer two of the pain pills and paper cup of water. Without looking at the Petty Officer, A.J. tossed the pills in his mouth and chased them with the water handed to him. The line clicked just as the Chegwidden finished swallowing the pills.

"Captain? This is the Admiral; I want the security teams on a heightened level of alert. Army Special Forces troops are planning some mock terrorist attacks on selected facilities in the Washington DC area. I don't want my command caught with its pants down between its legs, especially by the Army."

He listened as the Captain told him that wouldn't happen on his watch. "Good, I knew I could count on you, Jimenez."

He cut the connection and looked up at the curious Petty Officer. "I must be losing my mind…."

Jason Tiner wasn't sure what to say to that, but now sure didn't seem like the time to try a witty comment.

0004 Zulu

Jason Tiner's Apartment

Arlington, Virginia

Jason Tiner rarely had anyone over to his apartment, but Victor Galindez' challenge had gotten the better of him…again. Why did he let this older man rattle him so? Was it because he was a Marine…yeah partially. Was it because he felt the Gunny was a threat to his position in the office…well, yeah partially that too. Did it have to do with the fact he felt like a picked upon younger brother next to this older Marine…definitely; without a doubt.

The thought of Gunnery Sergeant Victor Galindez making fun of him stirred those sibling feelings in the young Petty Officer.

The doorbell rang. Jason, readjusting his sports jacket one more time, walked over to the door. He took a deep breath… (_remember, center yourself _) and opened it.

Her long brown hair was unpinned and unbraided from where it usually sat on her head. It cascaded down to just below her shoulders. She was wearing a pair of form fitting gray slacks and red silk dress shirt. Jason found he couldn't get his brain to forward a response to his voice box. He stared dumbly at her. So much for Zen calm.

She smiled sweetly at him. "Is it okay if I come in?"

He nodded.

Jen walked into his apartment. He merely stood away from the entrance. "Wow, this is a nice place that you have here. It's sure less crowded than mine."

Jason finally found his voice. "Uh, thanks."

She looked around as if scanning the apartment for intruders. "Am I the first to arrive?"

"Yeah, um, you're the first…." He stood rooted next to the door.

"Do you need any help in the kitchen?" She was headed that way.

That snapped Jason out of his paralysis. "Sure, come on."

He breezed in front of her and walked into the kitchen.

As he was about to say something to her, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," she said as she walked out of the kitchen, back through the living room and back to the door of the apartment. Opening it, she was greeted by Victor Galindez decked out in nice dark blue denim shirt and black slacks. On his arm was Sergeant Cassandra Ramirez, who had recently been assigned to guard duty at the front entrance to the JAG Headquarters. She was dressed in jeans and a purple blouse. Gunny and Cassie liked and respected each other, but since he would only be in town for a few days, neither saw any harm in going to a friendly poker game at a friend's house.

"Hey Cassie, Gunny, come on in,"

"Are we early?" Asked Cassie seeing there was no one else there and immediately shooting Gunny an accusing look.

"You're the first to arrive; the game won't get started for at least another fifteen, twenty minutes."

She lightly elbowed Gunny in the ribs as they walked in, "I told you we were arriving too early."

Victor looked at Jen and grimaced. "Where's Jason?" he asked ignoring Cassie's comment, and looking around the combination dining room – den.

"He's in the kitchen. Make yourself at home." She looked back toward the dining room table as the doorbell rang again. "There's dip and chips on the table, help yourself."

As Cassie and Victor nibbled at the snacks, Jen pulled open the door and stared. In the doorway stood Marla Givers and her date, Petty Officer Chip Brewer

Jen plastered on a quick smile. "Marla, Chip, come on in."

"Thanks Jen," Chip ushered Marla inside.

Already sizing up her opponent, Jen noted that Marla's jeans were a tad too snug and her green blouse was a little too open for her tastes.

"Marla, what a nice outfit. Those jeans, where did you get them?"

"The Gap was having a sale, do you really like them?" Marla was noting Jen's snug silk shirt and body hugging gray slacks, not that she had that much to show off.

"I used to shop there all the time, but don't you get tired of all those kids in there?"

Marla shot her a look that could have burned her head off. "Oh I suppose, but I like their styles, plus they don't sell old folks clothes," she smiled at Jen, "You know, those gray slacks like my mother wears." Jen laughed politely, smiling sweetly at Marla who beaming.

Chip immediately understood these two women, though smiling, were not friends. "Uh Marla, why don't we go and get some food, I'm starving-"

"Yeah Marla, go on in and get some dip and chips. There's diet Coke if you need it."

Marla laughed lightly in return "I'll just see what Jason has in his fridge, thanks. Oh, can you keep Chip company for a moment? Thanks!"

"You two always this friendly?" Gunny asked Jennifer who watched as Marla scooted into the kitchen. A bewildered Chip looked from the Gunny to the Petty Officer wondering if they understood what was behind all this posturing.

"We have our moments," Jennifer said absently. Her eyes were straying toward the kitchen entrance.

Jason was pouring pretzels into a bowl. He didn't notice Marla Givers enter the kitchen.

"Need any help?"

Jason turned and saw Marla standing next to the refrigerator.

Um, sure," Tiner said suddenly becoming very interested in the pretzel bag. "There's some ranch dip in the fridge."

"On it," Marla said brightly as she opened the door and pulled out the plastic container.

"Do you want me to just open it and put it on a plate, or pour it into a bowl?"

Jason Tiner quickly looked over at her and then back at the pretzel bag. "There's some bowls in that cabinet next to refrigerator,"

"Got it," she said closing the door and opening the cabinet. She looked over her shoulder at Jason Tiner who was moving toward the dishwasher. Marla enjoyed watching him pull dishes and glasses out of the washer trays. If only she could catch his eye, get him talking directly to her. She started to open the dip when an idea came to her, true it was a lame idea, but if it worked….

"Um, this appears to be stuck."

Jason shot her a quick puzzled look. "Just pull on it evenly, it'll open."

Marla made a valiant effort to look helpless "I'm trying, but its not budging, a little help here, *please*?" Her pleading tone ended with a definite annoyed edge. So much for subtlety.

Jason's head snapped back toward her. "Sure, let me see it," He reached out for the container.

Seeing his eyes look into hers made her suddenly very self conscious. So much for that Marine training to help her keep her cool. What would normally be a simple mechanical function turned into one of the most difficult physical maneuvers she had ever attempted.

"Oohh," she said as it slipped from her hands

"I've got it," said Jason reaching for it.

The container slipped through both their hands and hit the floor with a hollow thunk, as it rolled across the floor.

Both dived for it at the same time. Jason's left foot succeeded in kicking it into the far corner of the tiny room.

Jason scrambled after the wayward dip cup closely followed by Marla. Her right foot succeeded in hooking his and they both tumbled to the floor in a jangled heap.

Jen stopped dead at the doorway. Her eyes were riveted on the wiggling rear end and back of Marla Givers on top of Jason Tiner

Jason's head shot up first. His pleading eyes tried to break through Petty Officer Coates' cool demeanor. "Jen-" Marla's head turned around and she tried her best to look embarrassed. "This is not what it looks like-" she began.

Jen didn't wait for the rest of the explanation. She spun on her heel and left the room.

"Wait Jen-"

Jason, still holding the rapidly warming dip container and pinned to the floor by Marla's body, looked helplessly from the empty doorway to Marla and back to the doorway.

Marla should have felt elated, but instead she felt dirty and hollow. The look in Jen's eyes…it wasn't anger at losing or at being bested. It was genuine hurt. For the first time this evening Marla felt like a heel. She quietly got off Jason.

-TBC…


	32. Chapter 31

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 31

0432 Local

A.J. Chegwidden's House

McLean, Virginia

A.J. Chegwidden stepped out into the pre-dawn darkness. His neighborhood being fairly far out from the Capitol was still pretty quiet at this hour, and that was when the former SEAL liked to do his thinking as he began his morning run. Mac's call had disturbed him more than he had let anyone know.

Granted Sarah MacKenzie's psychic abilities were more tied to missing persons and getting the dead to 'talk' rather than a true sixth sense. But it was what she reported

(Sir, there's going to be an attack – a terrorist attack) and her tone - that really made him listen to her.

He had always had a soft spot for this pretty woman of Cherokee and Persian descent. If she really thought he and the rest of the personnel at JAG Headquarters were in danger, then maybe he should listen.

Having already warmed up, the Admiral, dressed in black running sweats and a gray shirt emblazoned with his old unit's logo headed down the darkened street past rows of houses. Most were silent, but a few had occupants stirring, getting ready to ride the Metro into DC, or make the fun filled drive on the I-95 into the Capitol.

His mind turned back to Commander Rabb and Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie. From the first day she and Harmon Rabb went out to Red Rock, until that fiasco in Paraguayan Chaco Boreal, he had known they were special. It wasn't just that Rabb had lost his father during the Vietnam War, or that she came from a broken family as a reformed drunkard.

No, the fact that they had both overcome turbulent family backgrounds to become two of his top lawyers was something he admired in both of them. Truth be known, he was damned proud of them - despite their penchant for getting themselves into some real embarrassing situations.

Thanks to Rabb's insistence on trying to protect his brother from the charms of Lieutenant Singer, he had almost gotten himself thrown into Leavenworth for good. That gave Edward Sheffield, the new Secretary of the Navy, the leverage he needed to force AJ to give up his top attorney.

"AJ, I'm so glad you were able to come over on short notice-"

"Let's skip the niceties Mr. Secretary, you knew if you called, I'd be here,"

"That's true AJ, but I still like the fact that you made room in your schedule to see me so quickly. Please, have a seat."

AJ grimaced as he remembered how he felt like a wounded cougar being lead into a trap. He thought about how Sheffield's eyes had glittered with false empathy for AJ's predicament - thanks to that NCIS investigation and Lindsey's report. Walking a tightrope didn't even begin to describe his situation.

"So AJ, how does it feel having Commander Rabb cleared?"

"I'm glad he wasn't guilty Mr. Secretary. I'm also glad that Special Agent Gibbs decided to take a closer look at the evidence."

"I've heard that Colonel MacKenzie is assisting the CIA again."

"Yes Sir, she has specialized skills needed by the Agency,"

"AJ, you need her in the office to help with your workload. It surely hasn't gotten any lighter since she joined the Commander in Afghanistan. She's worked quite a few operations with that CIA Officer Webb, hasn't she?"

"Yes Sir, Mr. Secretary, both she and the Commander have worked in joint operations with Agent Clayton Webb,"

"Well AJ, I propose that we do something to rectify that. Say we loan the Commander to them for … oh, maybe…six months."

"Six months? Mr. Secretary-"

"AJ," his tone cautioned, "Harrison needs our help,"

"Begging your pardon, Sir, but Deputy Director Harrison Kershaw helped the former CIA Director get your predecessor_-_-"

"Yes, I know, AJ, fired. You're not telling me anything I didn't already know."

"Mr. Secretary-"

"Please AJ, don't be sanctimonious now. I pulled one of my top trouble-shooters off her regular assignments to save you; don't make me regret that decision. Admiral Kly told me you would be grateful for my interceding on your behalf."

"But Sir, Commander Rabb-"

"Is expendable, AJ, as are any US military personnel. I heard the Commander resigned his commission, again. You know, if one didn't know better, one would suspect that part of Lindsey's report was true."

"Now wait just a damn minute-"

"Calm down AJ, no one's accusing you or your staff of anything. Look, let's just say he's on extended loan to the CIA Air Corps. Harrison told me about Rabb's visit to his office this afternoon. Blaisedell is looking for an experienced pilot, and Rabb's aerial combat experience is needed in Cuidad del Este. Colonel Bushnell's team is sorely lacking any qualified pilots with combat experience. Commander Rabb has that. Plus, it gives the Commander the chance to 'sow his oats', so to speak….'wrestle an alligator', if you will. He can explore his job options while still being under Navy supervision."

"You heard me AJ. Process his terminal leave papers. They'll sit in BUPERS at my request. In the meantime, Commander Rabb will receive a change in designator from my office. He'll be given six months from the day he gets back to make up his mind. Oh rest assured, he'll still be attached to your office, but given the latitude to work for the Air Corps, with the proviso that he decide between the CIA and Navy at the end of his six months. A winning solution for everyone, don't you think?"

AJ concentrated on his run, driving Secretary of the Navy Edward Sheffield's voice from his head. It was almost time to head back when the Admiral felt the presence of an automobile behind him. The car had been moving at a normal pace, but only until it reached him. Though it was still out his line of sight, AJ's SEAL training told him whoever was driving the car, had an interest in him.

He slowed his pace. The car did likewise. (Okay, let's see who this is….) as he started to slow down again, the automobile, a black stretched Cadillac limousine, pulled up even with AJ Chegwidden. The chauffer gave the Admiral a brief glance before speeding up just enough for the rear seat window of the car to pull even with the Admiral.

Not liking this game of follow the leader, AJ stopped. The limo did likewise. The power window rolled down to reveal the rosy cheeks and fogged glasses of Edward Sheffield.

"Good morning Mr. Secretary," AJ said blandly. He resumed jogging. The car started up and matched his speed, allowing the SecNav to keep even with the Admiral.

"AJ, it's freezing out here, wouldn't rather be *inside* where it's warm?" Actually, it was merely cool for a summer morning, but Edward Sheffield had thin blood when it came to early morning exercising.

"I'm a SEAL Mr. Secretary;" said AJ smiling sardonically, "this is perfect weather for running, why don't you join *me*?"

"I'm not much for running, AJ," said the man evasively.

"I'll slow my pace to match yours, Sir, unless you'd rather walk…."

"Stop the car," Sheffield ordered sharply. The driver complied and the limo glided to a halt.

The SecNav got out of the car and stood looking at AJ Chegwidden. "I'm not dressed for this AJ,"

"I'll allow for that Mr. Secretary," the Admiral resumed a loping pace. Edward Sheffield sighed and ran to catch up with AJ who was now several feet ahead. Once the SecNav caught up with the former SEAL, he began to lope along side the Navy man.

"Uh, AJ, we have it on good authority that forces loyal to Saddam and the Al-Qaeda are planning some kind of attack in the near future, possibly against an American unit, possibly those US forces involved with the Italians and Poles in peacekeeping operations in central Iraq."

AJ smiled. It looked as though Mac's psychic antenna was right on target. He'd have to have a talk with her about this ability when she got back. "Where did this information come from, Mr. Secretary?"

"I have level one access to the President's Daily Threat Matrix. I help prepare it, AJ. It seems there is some concern in both the NSA and CIA that Mirbullah and the surrounding towns are becoming a hot point. It seems the 36th MEU has overstayed its welcome in the area. The sooner this trial is over with, the sooner the 36th can resume its normal operations and the situation will ah, stabilize."

AJ smirked at the 'normal operations' comment. "Stabilize Sir?" He just had to know what the man's definition was of 'stabilized'.

"Well AJ, it would be easier to calm the Muslims in the area if the Italians took responsibility for security and peacekeeping in the Mirbullah area. It's only a short distance from An Nasiriyah. It would be easy enough for the Italian peacekeepers to assume responsibility for that area."

AJ didn't say anything. He really doubted that would calm the tensions. Something else besides the trial of that Cobra crew was stoking Muslim passions in that area. Even if Dodge was a devout Muslim, that was not the reason for the unrest. No, there was something or someone else fomenting this unrest.

Edward Sheffield stopped to catch his breath. He leaned over to allow his lungs full access to the cold morning air, even though he had only in AJ's estimation, loped along for maybe less than three minutes.

"Here, Mr. Secretary," AJ said with mock sympathy tossing him his towel, "I think you need this more than I do right now."

"Thank you AJ", he said toweling the sweat off his face. "You know, actually this feels pretty good. I want to thank you for inviting me to do this AJ. I think I'll make it part of my regular routine."

AJ Chegwidden fought the urge to grimace. "Don't mention it Sir,"

Marla was up early as well. It was not part of her regular routine, but an effort to rid herself of the demons that had haunted her sleep. What would have been a fun card game for the enlisted crew had turned into a very awkward social gathering. Jason and Jennifer sat next to each other, but hardly spoke a word all evening. Chip sat between Jason and Marla, but he really didn't need too. Jason barely acknowledged her presence the rest of the evening. It was up to Cassie and Victor to carry the conversation, which they did for the first hour. After that, they gave up, and the game became a tense quiet contest sprinkled with an economy of words.

The game broke up about 2130, thankfully. Cassie and Victor left rather quickly, followed by Chip and Marla. The Marine Sergeant wanted to say something to Jen, but each time she thought she had gained sufficient courage, the cold look of fury in Petty Officer Coates' eyes caused Givers to trail off into silence, her apology never quite getting finished.

Jason and Jennifer were very diplomatic and formal around each other. Victor had tried a joke earlier in the evening to loosen the two up, but it only succeeded in bringing an uneasy silence to the room. It seemed after that Gunny Galindez had decided that he'd just keep his mouth shut.

To shake off the lack of sleep from replaying last night's events, Marla forced herself into a cold shower. The cold water had the desired affect. Finishing her quick shower, she briskly toweled off. Wrapped in the same towel, she headed for the kitchen where her automatic coffee maker was already making her first carafe of coffee for the day.

Marla stood in her towel and drank first one cup and then a second. The dark brew chased away the last of her fatigue. Sufficiently coffied, she discarded the towel and began wrapping her longish hair in a practical ponytail held in place by a thin gray band – cutesy scrunchies just weren't her style.

She made her way to the bedroom, and slipped on her underwear and her running outfit – a Marine green baby tee, gray running shorts with US and MC on the front. She had seriously given thought to purchasing the gray shorts with the word MARINES plastered across the bottom, but given her recent rise in rank and the fact that some senior officer would ream her out if she was seen wearing such an outfit, she decided on the less racy version.

She did give in to one vice though, pink and gray running shoes with white trim. They served two purposes; to satisfy the rebel in her, and to serve as a conversation starter for any curious good looking guy she might run into.

She grabbed her keys and ID holder off the table by the front door and headed out into the cool early morning darkness. Others would be bothered by the predawn coolness, but not her. Her Mom always told her that her body temperature gauge must be off kilter. Before beginning her stretching exercises, she let herself think about the night before once more.

The date with Chip Brewer had been a disaster. He had spent most of the night mooning after Jennifer Coates. Jen, of course, was in no mood to pay attention to his antics. Every once in while she would flash an angry look toward Marla. And why not? The Marine Sergeant had shamelessly flirted with Jason Tiner at the office, (luckily the Admiral had not seen any of this) and then crossed swords with the Petty Officer 2nd Class most of the afternoon and evening until her spill in the kitchen with Jason. Once again her win at all costs attitude had won her the brass ring, but at what cost? Why did she always do this to herself? She wondered as she began running down the darkened street. The sodium lamps buzzed and hummed as insects swirled in the dull orange light. Some plastered against it seeking warmth while others, having been sufficiently warmed now flew madly around the mesmerizing light_. _

'I always pick the guys who aren't interested or have a girlfriend-' but Jennifer Coates wasn't a girlfriend, and Jason had been very nice to her since she had arrived at JAG Corps Headquarters 'So why do I feel like I'm butting in between these two?'

That was a silly question, a sage voice inside her challenged, because you are butting in. Marla nodded; her little voice, as usual, was right. She shook her head 'Givers get your head outta your six!' She could hear her old DI from Parris Island yelling at her. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," she grumbled to herself. As she rounded the curve back towards her apartment, she wondered how today would go.

0710 Local

Camp Chesty Puller

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Mac was sitting at her desk, making notes about some of the potential jury members. In the background, her portable radio played Toby Keith's "The Angry American"

Harm opened the door to her quarters and stood, arms crossed, watching the Marine attorney lip synch the words. In all the time he had known her, she'd never expressed an interest in country music. It was fun watching her sing along with Toby Keith and get into the music. He would have continued to watch her if it were not for her innate sixth sense that alerted her to his presence.

Her eyes lit up as she saw him in her mind's eye. "_Harm_," She turned around to face him and motioned toward the compact disc player. "I was listening to a song on a CD given to me by Major Barnett." She motioned toward the CD player. "He said the Commandant of the Marine Corps has recommended all Marines listen to it."

Harm smiled. "So I heard," The aviator/lawyer's winsome smile disappeared as he listened to the music.

Mac picked up on the visual cue. "What's the matter?"

Harm sighed. "A lot of things Mac, but mostly this case. We've had tough ones before, but never anything like this."

She walked over to him and took his hands in hers. "What are you talking about Harm? We've had cases much worse than this one."

Harm gave her a wry smile. "That depends on how you define the word 'worse', Mac."

She fought the urge to roll her eyes at that Clinton-esque comment. She grinned at his attempt at humor nonetheless. "What do you mean, Sailor?"

He began pacing. "I can't place my finger on it Mac, there's just something more to this case than we've been lead to believe. This isn't just a simple case where a Cobra gunship crew has been accused of murder. Look at what we learned during the hearing." He picked up the notepad that had been laying on her bed. On it were Harm's notes he had made during the hearing. Several names stood out. Jac Lewis, Adam Secord, and Darcy Livingston. "Let's not forget the things that happened while we were doing our JAGMan investigation."

"You mean the riots," said Mac stating the obvious.

Harm nodded. "Exactly," he added, "and, Krivstad's death."

Mac walked over to her desk. "Harm, all we have right now is one unsolved murder and several unfortunate combat casualties-"

The aviator/lawyer was ready for her. "-but what if they weren't just 'unfortunate casualties' Marine? Think about it…."

"Butler did say he had some information for us," said Mac, turning thoughtful for a moment, and recalling what the Logistics officer had told them shortly before an RPG round had ended his life.

"As did Corpsman Hazon and Leftenant Prine," Harm added, "and both ended up in a condition that ensured they couldn't talk to us or Judge Blakely, Mac."

"But what about Corporal Grearson and Sergeant Colwell? And don't tell me you think they were involved too."

"I do Mac, I'm just not sure how. They were involved and somehow turned out to be a liability…and whoever is controlling all this, might have decided-"

"-they were too much of the liability," she finished for him. The lady Marine shook her head in frustration. "Harm do you know how crazy that sounds?" She tried to sound practical and logical, but even she wasn't convinced by her argument.

"Is it Mac?" he said as his piercing blue eyes locked onto her beautiful dark ones. "You were threatened by Krivstad, Butler's dead; Hazon and Prine were badly injured and unable to testify. Grearson and Colwell are dead-"

Mac's eyes widened. "Harm! The soldier killed at the police station – DAR L!"

"DAR L?" Harm said mystified by her sudden announcement. "What does that mean? Is it a code?"

She shook her head. "No, Bud and I found that name written in blood," she explained quickly, reminding him what they had found. "In Corporal Bennington's cell, remember? He was in jail for stealing his commander's motorcycle and taking it for a joyride."

"But Mac, what does that have to do with this case? We don't know anyone in this unit named Dar-"

Their eyes met at the same moment. "Darcy Livingston!" they said simultaneously.

The aviator/lawyer knew they were onto something. "Mac, this guy, Corporal Bennington, which unit was he in?"

She gave him a pointed look. "What does that have to do with this case?"

He ignored her attempt to apply logic to the case. Right now they were onto something, and this wasn't the time for rationality. "Just humor me, MacKenzie, which unit?"

She walked over to her open briefcase and pulled out the sheaf of papers that contained the roster of the MEU. She flipped through the papers. Harm looked expectantly at her. "He was infantry," The aviator/lawyer's face fell. "Until he transferred to Force Recon."

"Haarm," Mac said warningly when she saw that determined look in his eyes.

The Commander was like a heat seeking missile that had locked onto its target. "Mac, even your logical rational mind has to-"

But the lady Marine attorney had to try to apply calm rational thinking once more. "Sorry Harm, it just won't hold water and our clients will still be guilty-"

"Think about it Marine; in one way or another all the dead and wounded in this case are someway connected with Captain Lewis-"

"Who is frequently seen with…Darcy Livingston…." She admitted reluctantly.

"So the question is; what is the connection between these two?"

"Good friends?" Mac ventured, with a hint of sarcastic humor in her voice.

Harm smiled wryly at her joke. "No, there's something more than just friendship. I'm thinking a mutual interest…we need to find out what that mutual interest is, before the end of this trial." He looked at his partner "Do you still think I'm chasing ghosts?"

Mac sighed and gave him a weary smile "If you think something is rotten here…I trust you…and know you are right."

He crossed his arms. "And why is that, MacKenzie?"

"Because Harmon Rabb," she walked over to him, "you *always* seek the underlying truth, no matter how irritating and infuriating you may be in trying to get to it." She paused to make sure she had his complete attention before saying the last part, "And I love you for it."

Harm gave her a crooked smile while putting his hands on his hips. "You love me for being irritating and infuriating, Mac? That really helps my ego, you know."

She moved closer and playfully slapped his broad camo-covered chest. "You know what I mean, Flyboy. We both want the truth and what's best for the military." He gave her an incredulous look. "I know, I know, we go at it from different directions, but we both want the same thing, Harm."

He gave her that brilliant smile. "To find the real killers."

She returned the smile "Yep. Even if we have to turn this whole MEU upside down…" then Mac turned serious again. "We have our work cut out for us. We suspect that both Captain Lewis and Colonel Livingston are dirty, we just can't prove it."

"Maac,"

"Face it Harm, we don't have anything we can use to nail these two – anything we try to charge them with right now, they'll just shrug it off and walk away—getting off scot free. We need to get something more substantial on them," she concluded in her trademark rational manner.

"Then we will," Harm said determinedly

"How?"

"I'll call in a few favors,"

"A few favors?" Mac looked curious.

Harm had moved on to his next line of thought. "Sure, they'll help us get the evidence we need-"

The Marine attorney was still on the previous page. She scrambled to keep up with his leaping thoughts. "They? They who?"

"Commander Coulter for one; she can help us determine who killed Krivstad and Corporal Bennington,"

Mac snorted derisively. "And I guess next you'll want to get Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs so he can grill Lewis and Livingston under a spotlight. He likes that kind of thing, you know; we'll do our good cop, bad cop routine-" Harm looked away from her. Mac had worked with her partner long enough to know that when he couldn't look directly at her, that meant he intended to do something she didn't approve of. "Harm? I was just kidding-"

Mac moved closer to the aviator/lawyer. "Harm, Gibbs was going to send you to Leavenworth for murder. Besides you just told me last night you didn't like the man."

"Which I didn't commit, Mac," Harm said more nonchalantly than he thought possible. "And besides, he and Agent DiNozzo realized I was being set up. I really did appreciate what they did. I just don't like his methods." He took her hand and focused on her beautiful brown eyes. "Look Marine, although Gibbs is a hard case, he may be just the person we need to solve this mystery. We'll also have Tiner do some checking on character witnesses in the states-"

"-like Mrs. Dodge," she said completing his thought. It was eerie sometimes how easily she could do this.

But it only assured the Navy Commander he was on the right track. "Exactly, Mac, this just might work-"

"That 'might work' better be a 'will work' Flyboy, or we may both end up in a grave in Arlington or serving time in Leavenworth."

1224 Zulu

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

AJ opened the door to his office and looked out just as Jason Tiner was about to knock. Both stared at each other for a half a second before the Admiral took charge.

"Tiner, ask Petty Officer Coates to come into my office." He then shut the door on him.

"Aye Sir," Tiner said automatically and backed away from the door, forgetting the question he had for the Admiral. He turned to see Jennifer Coates look up from her monitor. She shot him a quick curious expression.

Jason gave a just barely perceptible shrug of his shoulders meaning 'no he didn't know what the Admiral wanted with her, but she'd better go in fast and find out'.

The Petty Officer 2nd Class stood up, squared her shoulders, walked up to his door and knocked.

"Enter."

She opened the door walked in and immediately snapped to attention in front of his desk. "Petty Officer Coates reporting as ordered, Sir."

AJ briefly looked up from his paperwork "Close the hatch, Coates," he ordered.

Jen did as he requested and then came back to attention.

"At ease, Petty Officer," said AJ good naturedly, "have a seat."

Jennifer used her hand to tuck her dress and straighten it as she sat down. With her hands perched in her lap, she waited to hear what her commanding officer had to say to her.

AJ looked thoughtfully at her. "Petty Officer…."

"Yes, Sir?"

"I've been keeping an eye on your work…."

"Is there a problem Sir?" The concern was clearly evident in her voice. Had her clashes with Sergeant Givers tainted his view of her?

The Admiral continued, seemingly oblivious to her unease. "Coates, how long have you been with JAG Headquarters?"

She decided to take whatever was coming like the trained sailor she was. "It will be eight months in August, Sir." And as a trained sailor she also felt compelled to take a risk, "May I ask why?"

Her forthrightness was something Chegwidden had always appreciated, although he never would have told her that. "Petty Officer, I've made a recommendation that you be put on the list for accelerated promotion-"

"-Thank you Sir!" she said excitedly interrupting him.

AJ gave her a mildly annoyed look. "—with Petty Officer Tiner going off to Naval Justice School in the fall, I'm going to need a replacement Yeoman and Executive Assistant - I would like you to give being his replacement some serious thought." He understood her enthusiasm and excitement, but the disciplinarian in him did not like her girlish outbursts.

"Me, Sir?" she asked, totally taken by surprise – she had expected a reprimand given her run-ins with the Sergeant – but not this.

AJ looked up at her. "Coates, your office skills are excellent; I get good reports from Lieutenant Sims…is there some reason you would not like to be my Yeoman?"

This pointed question flustered her. "Oh no Sir, Admiral, what I mean is…there is not any reason I can think of for not wanting to do this…Sir." She tried to regain her composure but her excitement at the prospect of being the Admiral's Yeoman overwhelmed her again.

"I am flattered that you consider me, Admiral, thank you-"

The Admiral, though pleased she wanted to be his Yeoman, had to get her back on track. "Don't think of yourself as a shoe-in Petty Officer," he said gruffly, "there are a lot of other qualified people working in this office and this does not mean that you will automatically be picked."

The Petty Officer's smile disappeared.

"Yes, Sir, I understand, Sir." She was back to being all business again.

The former SEAL turned thoughtful again. "However, being put on the accelerated promotion list, and indicating your desire for this position, does give you a better chance."

Coates, however, did not give in to youthful exuberance this time. "Yes, Sir."

He gave her a slight smile. He was beginning to realize just how much he liked her spunk and forthrightness. She reminded him of his Francesca. "Just give it some thought Coates, you can tell me your decision later. Dismissed."

"Aye Sir." She came to attention and did an about face, but as she reached for the door, she paused.

"Admiral?"

AJ had already begun working on his reports again. He looked up at her through his reading glasses, "Yes, Petty Officer?"

She turned to face him. "Sir, I don't need time to think about this. I would like to be considered for the Yeoman's position. With your permission, of course."

AJ Chegwidden smiled. He wished some of his other duties were as pleasant. "I thought you might Petty Officer, permission granted."

Jennifer Coates gave him a warm smile. "Thank you, Sir."

"Don't thank me, Petty Officer, just continue doing good work," he said softly admonishing her. He appreciated the compliment, but he wanted her to know she earned this on her own merits.

"Yes Sir," she said with conviction. "Aye, aye, Sir."

As she turned to leave again, another thought occurred. "Um, Sir?"

The Admiral was growing a little weary of these last minute questions from her. "Yes, Coates?" his response had a little more edge to it to indicate his patience was wearing thin.

Jennifer weighed her next words carefully. "Does this mean, well, um, Sir, I was wondering, should I begin learning more about Petty Officer Tiner's duties? Just in case…." She added the last part when a frown line on the JAG's face began to deepen.

The Admiral thought about slapping down her suggestion, but then this is exactly what he expected of a young go – getter like Coates. He gave her a quick fatherly smile. "That's the general idea, Coates." Although it still didn't mean she would automatically get the job.

She brightened considerably "Yes Sir, I won't disappoint you, Admiral."

AJ's tone reverted to all business 'Time for her to get back to work' "I'm sure you won't Coates. Dismissed." The finality in his voice meant this conversation was over.

Jennifer Coates again came to attention. "Aye, aye, Sir." Then did an about face and exited the JAG's office.

-TBC…


	33. Chapter 32

"JAG Corps Headquarters, Sergeant Givers speaking. Whom may I ask is calling?"

The voice was sharp and clear despite the distance. "This is Commander Rabb, Sergeant, is Petty Officer Tiner available?"

Marla looked over at Tiner walking off the elevator. "Yes Sir, I'll go get him, please hold." Marla got up from her desk and moved across the bullpen to where Jason Tiner had stopped to instruct a Seaman.

"Commander Rabb on the phone for you, Petty Officer."

Jason barely flinched at the Sergeant's presence so close to him. If he was having conflicting emotions about seeing her so soon after last night's debacle, he did a good job suppressing it.

"Thanks Sergeant, could you stay here with Seaman Brooks? He's having trouble with this deposition."

She nodded and continued the instructions as Tiner made his way back over to the waiting phone. As he made it to the desk, Petty Officer Coates joined him.

"What's up?" she said nonchalantly.

Jason stopped before picking up the phone, surprised that she was talking to him this casually given recent events. "Uh, it's Commander Rabb," he said nervously, not really sure how to handle this situation. "He wants to speak with me."

Her response was swift and to the point. "May I speak with him first?"

For a brief moment Jason thought Jen might relay what had happened last night, and then he remembered that Jen and Marla had found out some information that might be useful to the Commander now that the gunship crew was going to be tried.

"Sure, go ahead." He motioned to the waiting phone.

Jen gave him a brief flash of a smile and then picked up the receiver, becoming very business-like. "Commander, this is Petty Officer Coates-"

"Coates?" She heard the bewilderment in the Commander's voice. "I thought the Admiral had assigned the Dodge case to Tiner…."

Jennifer Coates couldn't help but smile at his befuddlement – not that she wanted to confuse him, it was just fun to be able to help the man who saved her life and her career, and stun him the way he had her. "He did Sir, but Sergeant Givers and I were doing the preliminary investigation."

That gave Harm a little more explanation and put him on a more solid footing regarding why Jen was on the other end of the line, but he still assumed Jason was the one he needed to speak to.

"Well I need Tiner to talk to Lieutenant Dodge's wife-"

"Yes Sir," said Coates, interrupting as she did when she wanted to volunteer information, "We figured you would,"

Again the Commander became confused. "You did? Why?"

"Because she's an Afghan refugee, Sir?" Coates ventured, knowing this kind of information might really help his case.

That bit of information lead to a surprised response from the Commander.

"How did you find that out?"

Coates felt pleased and proud that she could help her mentor. "We talked with Colonel Shoup at Lejune, Sir. He told us."

"So when were you going to talk with her?" Harm said not sure what to expect next.

Jen looked up at Jason. "Right now Sir, we were just headed out the door…"

"Good," Harm added officiously, trying to get back in control of this conversation, "let me know what you find out."

"Aye, aye Sir," Jen replied smartly and cut the connection.

1505 Zulu

Crystal Valley Apartments

Falls Church, Virginia

Petty Officer 1st Class Jason Tiner knocked on the door of the town home of Fazirah Dodge. The neighborhood seemed nice enough. At his side stood 2nd Class Officer Jennifer Coates. Both looked immaculate in their summer white uniforms – a perfect couple for a recruiting photo.

The door opened. A woman of middle-eastern descent wearing slacks and a chador covering her hair answered the door. Jason noticed the woman looked a little ill at ease, her beautiful green eyes darting from Jason to Jen and then back again. Her voice however, indicated only perfect calm. "Yes?"

Jason put his cap in his hand. "Good afternoon Ma'am, I'm Petty Officer Jason Tiner, and this is Petty Officer Jennifer Coates. We're from JAG Corps, doing some follow-up investigative work on your husband's death. Do you mind if we ask you a few questions about your husband?"

She hesitated and then pulled the door open wider "I do not mind. Please come in,"

"Thank you, Ma'am," Tiner said as he and Jen stepped inside the nicely furnished apartment.

"Would you like anything to drink? I have some tea in the kitchen…."

Jason took a quick look around the hallway then back at the Lieutenant's wife. "No thank you, Ma'am."

Fazirah looked at Jennifer Coates who politely demurred as well.

They walked into living room. Fazirah Dodge motioned to the two chairs facing the couch.

"Please have a seat,"

Both Petty Officers sat down as Lieutenant Dodge's wife sat down on the couch. Jason noticed that she was sitting as if she expected to get up any moment. Jennifer did a quick scan of the room.

It seemed ordinary enough; a portrait of the Lieutenant sat above the faux fireplace. Over the couch was a picture of Khyber Pass. Because of this, and the other personal touches that dotted the room, she guessed Fazirah Dodge was from that area of Afghanistan.

Fazirah looked at the two Navy personnel sitting facing her. "What kind of questions do you need me to answer, Petty Officer Tiner?"

"Mrs. Dodge we know this is difficult-" began Jason.

Fazirah Dodge smiled reassuringly. "It is all right Petty Officer. My husband died doing his duty, irregardless of whether or not he died from what you call 'friendly fire' or not."

Jen felt bad about having to ask these questions, but Harm and Mac had to know the answers, and if Mrs. Dodge had them. "Mrs. Dodge, did your husband have any enemies? Anybody who would have wanted to kill him?"

The woman seemed to think upon this for a moment, and then looked at both of them. "My husband was a good Marine and always tried to do the right thing. He had his…what you call 'dustups' with his fellow soldiers, but nothing that ever really bothered him."

Jason zeroed in on her use of a vernacular term. "These 'dustups' Ma'am, who were they with?"

Fazirah had anticipated his question. "Various people in his unit, one was with a helicopter crew, some silliness over my husband…how do you say…fooling around… with another man's wife. It was resolved fairly quickly – my husband did not like animosities to fester."

Jennifer asked the next delicate question. "Did you know much about the one he had with the helicopter crew?"

"All I know is that the pilot thought my husband was involved with his sister. Petty Officer, my husband was a good Muslim. He was, however, how you say, very attractive, a...a 'stud'."

There were smiles all around. It broke the tension that had been building.

"But despite interest from other women, he would not give in to temptation. He was a good man."

It was Jason's turn again. "Did your husband ever mention Captain Lewis?"

At the mention of that name, Fazirah Dodge became evasive.

"He was the commander of the unit's infantry company. He had very little contact with my husband."

Jen knew if she asked this question it might not seem as antagonistic "But didn't he order your husband to support the assault into Mirbullah, and then change his mind at the last moment?" she quizzed.

"I did not know anything about that," she said speciously. "I just know my husband would not let ill feelings between him and another Marine lead to murder – it is not our way – it was not his way."

"Would you be willing to testify on the Cobra crew's behalf?" asked Jason.

"I - I cannot leave here," said Fazirah, her eyes darting around nervously. Both Petty Officers took note of her subconscious actions.

Jen tried to make it easier for her. "We could arrange for you to testify via videotape or through a videoconference connection," she offered, "your choice."

"I will have to think about it…."

Jason Tiner showed that despite his enlisted rank, he understood the seriousness of the situation. "Ma'am, we are authorized, if necessary, to force you to testify."

Fazirah's face grew cold and hard. "Please do not do that, Petty Officer Tiner. I will give you my answer later today."

"Ma'am-" Jason was about to meet her unspoken threat head on when Jen thought of another option.

"Ma'am, Mrs. Dodge, please understand. These men may die if you don't tell the court what you have told us."

Fazirah's features softened momentarily. "I understand Petty Officer Coates. I promise you, and Petty Office Tiner, I will give you my answer this afternoon."

"Thank you Ma'am," replied Jen.

Both Petty Officers stood and got ready to leave. Fazirah also stood.

"I understand your concern for these men," began Fazirah as they started to leave.

Thank you for understanding Ma'am," said Jason politely. "We'll come back this afternoon as requested."

As the two Petty Officers headed for the apartment door Fazirah picked up a book off the coffee table.

"Petty Officer Coates? You might find this book to be helpful." She handed the thick book to Jennifer. Perplexed, the young Petty Officer held the book, uncertain what to do with it.

"Ma'am, really, I don't-"

Fazirah looked desperately at Jen. "Please take it with you Petty Officer, I think you will find it to be of great help in your investigation. Please take it. Please?"

Jen and Jason were taken aback by the woman's insistence that they take this book.

"Uh, thank you," said Jennifer, not knowing what else to say. She looked at Jason.

"Here take this card," he offered. When she looked confused, he offered what he thought was a simple explanation. "Just in case you can't meet with us this afternoon, and you remember anything else you want to tell us. Jennifer gave him a puzzled look. Jason merely shrugged.

Jason and Jennifer walked back to the JAG Corps staff car. As they did, Jen began flipping through the thick coffee table book.

"Wow, that's a real door stop," commented Jason as he opened her door for her.

"Yeah," she said distractedly, as she thumbed through the first few pages of the book 'Famous Saints'.

Jennifer seemed pretty engrossed in the book's contents. Figuring this had something to do with her father; he turned the engine over and pulled away from the curb.

For all their conversations, she never really said much about her home life or her father. The most he could get out of her was that he was a preacher in Hagerstown, Maryland. He got the feeling, based on what little she said, that the relationship was not a pleasant one. Rather than poke and prod into an obviously sensitive area, he decided it was best to leave it alone for now.

Jen continued to pore over each page as if looking for something – which she was. Mrs. Dodge had given this book to her for reason – it had to be something written in here that she wanted them to see.

Fazirah Dodge looked out the living room window at the departing staff car. She hoped they would look through the entire book – it was her only way to warn someone.

She tried to push the negative thoughts regarding her husband's death out of her mind. She knew about her husband's various run-ins with Ben Lukens; however she also knew that he hadn't killed her husband. Not Ben; for all his bluster and posturing, he was not a killer. Oh she knew who did it all right, but proving that without word getting back to the killer was next to impossible. If word did get back to him, she was as good as dead. No witness protection program would be able to save her.

She could tell the young Petty Officer…Coates, that was her name…was bright and perceptive. His partner, Petty Officer Tiner would be able to protect her. Together they would figure out what had happened her husband, who was involved and what to do. For now, she just had to wait and hope.

"Interesting book?" Ventured Tiner stealing a glance at her and at the same time keep an eye on traffic.

"Uh huh," said Jen vaguely as she continued to flip through the book, looking for some clue as to why Fazirah Dodge had wanted them to have this book.

They had been gone twenty minutes, Fazirah reasoned, soon Petty Office Coates would find—

Kazir al Azaan walked into the room, interrupting her thoughts and causing her blood to turn to ice. She froze when she saw his angry countenance.

"What are you doing?" he asked pointedly. Kazir was a swarthy intense man with permanent scowl etched into his square face. Usually very quiet, the man was unusually agitated today. He was always more agitated before an operation.

"Nothing," she replied quickly, trying to leave the room. She dared not look into his eyes. Kazir had the kind of dead gray eyes that made anyone's blood run cold.

He snorted his disbelief and walked over to the coffee table. "I will be glad to get out of this festering pig-"

Fazirah's mouth went dry when she saw the look on his face. He was looking for the book.

"The book," he growled. "Where is it?"

"The book?" she said in what she thought was an unusually calm voice. Inside her, a voice was screaming for her to get out there, now!

"You heard me," he said his voice low and sharp, "Where is the book?"

She put on a brave face. "I do not-"

"Where is the book?" he exploded at Fazirah as he smacked her across the face, sending her stumbling across the living room to crash into the coffee table. She knocked it sideways, sending magazines, books, and letters on it scattering across the floor.

Fazirah dazedly looked up at the man as she wiped blood from the corner of her mouth.

"Where is it?" He screamed at her as he smacked her across the face, again. Fazirah Dodge saw twinkling and flashing stars dance around the man.

She looked up at him pleadingly. "I am sorry Kazir, I must have given the book to one of the American navy officers that just came by."

"What?" He roared. "Which one?" He barked as he closed on her.

She cowered on the floor, trying to protect her stomach. "Allah forgive me Kazir, I gave it to the woman Petty Officer…."

Another sharp stinging slap of his hand across her face knocked the words from her mind. "Name? What is her name?"

Kazir's angry barks brought two other men of Arab descent bursting through the kitchen door and into the living room.

"Grab her." He ordered coldly. The two complied, roughly grabbing hold of Mrs. Dodge.

"I will not ask again," he said barely restraining his fury. "Who did you give it to?"

"I am sorry Kazir, it was an accident, that I gave it-"

"Accident?" He got nose to nose with her "Who? Who did you 'accidentally' give it to?"

Kates, or Kotts, I'm not sure-" it was a futile gesture.

"Lair!" he yelled. He motioned to his confederates. "Bring her downstairs!"

1631 Zulu

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

Coates continued looking at the book given to her by Fazirah Dodge. She could not see any reason why the woman had given her this book. "Looks like an ordinary book to me," She grumbled to herself. "So why did she want me to have a copy of 'Famous Saints'?

Jen opened the Dodge file folder on her desk and began reading out loud trying to make some kind of sense out of this mystery. "Fazirah al Salaameme Dodge, born November 19, 1980; Mazarabad, Afghanistan; religion: Muslim…wait a minute…Muslim…if that's the case, why did she have a book on 'Famous Saints'?"

Hoping to find an answer, she flipped further into the book, looking at each page, hoping to find some kind of reason for Mrs. Dodge wanting her to have this book. All she found though was a pretty standard reference book. (And pretty ordinary, too….) Then she came to a page that appeared to be stuck. (That's funny….)

Crystal Valley Apartments

Kazir lead the two men dragging the semi-conscious Fazirah down the stairs into the lower level of the apartment. He opened the well insulated door. Inside the darkened room, a solitary figure hung from the wall outlined by streams of light filtering in.

"Doctor, please wake up," commanded Kazir as he roughly shook the chained man.

An audible sigh was followed by a sharp intake of air, and then a low groan filled Fazirah's ears.

"Ah good, you're awake brother doctor, so glad you could join us."

The man squinted as he looked at the sagging female body held by Kazir's cohorts.

"What…what have you done…to her?" He rattled, the effort saying this seemed to drain him.

"Nothing yet," sneered Kazir, "But you can help me get some information from her since she is your sister."

As Kazir's two helpers started to drag Fazirah forward, the door opened revealing a clean cut older Arab man. When he saw the scene before him, his eyes blazed.

"Kazir!" he thundered, "What are you doing?"

The younger man and his two confederates turned to face the older Arab.

"This traitor gave away our book!" spat out Kazir viciously.

The older man clucked his tongue. "Kazir, I told you not to put that information in that book. Our Marine wife is entertaining friends all the time. An accident like this was bound to happen."

"Tiner, come here a minute."

The senior Petty Officer walked over to her desk.

"What did you find?"

"I'm not sure…." Jen took a letter opener and pried it into the stuck pages. "Funny, these pages seem to be stuck togeth-"

The older Arab was now standing between Fazirah, who had been tied to the wall, and her brother. "Fazirah, we have a problem."

Mrs. Dodge's head ached from the slaps she had received. Her side still burned from ramming into that coffee table.

"Who did you give the book to?" the older Arab said gently to her. "You know the one, the book with the angel on it?"

Fazirah's head swam and darkened images of everyone present seemed to dance before her.

"I- I am n-not sure…," she said haltingly. Unshed tears burned her throat.

"Come dear Fazirah," he said paternally, "maybe the good doctor can help,"

Her brother lifted his head toward the man. "I am sorry I ever agreed to help you," the doctor spat out hoarsely.

"Our cause is just and the innocents killed only serve to further underline the seriousness of our intentions. Besides, they are infidels anyway – casualties of war," intoned the older Arab reverently.

"Don't hurt my brother," Fazirah croaked. She had heard this line used many times before an innocent bystander was brutally slaughtered in a vain attempt to make a point or enforce some arcane code.

The old man chuckled. "Oh my dear Fazirah, I will do no such thing if you only tell me where my book is."

A dazed Fazirah Dodge blinked and lifted her head to examine this pleasant sounding evil man – all he wanted was his book…why not tell them? She was about to tell him when her rational mind screamed for her not to do this. It would not lead to ending the pain, it argued strenuously; most likely it would lead to her death!

The older Arab smiled, "Fazirah? Just tell me who you gave the book to. I promise no harm will come to either of you because of this *accident*." His eyes glittered. "It was an accident, Fazirah, wasn't it?"

"Don't tell them," her brother hissed through bruised and swollen lips. "They will kill us both once they have the information that they need."

The man turned to the doctor. "Now my dear Hamid, you know that is not the case, I just want to know where *my book* is, that's all."

He turned back to Fazirah. "Please tell me Fazirah, where is the book?"

Fazirah Dodge sighed, her sweat soaked jet black hair obscuring the red marks left on her face. She blinked back her building tears. She looked up guardedly at him, a mixture of terror and resignation choked the words out of her.

"Coates…I accidentally gave the book to the female Petty Officer, Jennifer Coates…Hammad, I did not know there was anything in the book, I swear. She

probably does not even recognize-"

"You see?" barked Kazir, cutting her off savagely. "She did give it to them!" He raised his hand to slap her again. "Woman! Do you not realize that you have jeopardized our entire operation with your stupidity? It is only because you did this out of ignorance that I spare your decadent worthless life. If you had deliberately betrayed us, I would have cut you apart like a lowly dog!"

Fazirah recoiled, bracing for the impact. She looked at him, her eyes pleading for compassion. "Please Kazir, forgive me…."

The older man, Hammad Faoud al Harib, flashed an angry look at Kazir "Be silent! You are not helping the situation!"

The pages separated from the rest of the book revealing a pocket within. The two Petty Officers exchanged surprised looks.

Jen saw Marla walking in the double glass doors of the bullpen "Sergeant… Marla, look at this…."

Marla reluctantly put down her purse at her desk and walked over to Jason and Jennifer. She took the opened book handed to her and immediately noticed the improvised safe cut into the book. She lifted the page flap and looked at the contents. "Two Zip diskettes, some note cards in Arabic, photographs and a map-" Her eyes widened when she looked closely at the folded piece of fabric. Along the sides of the map were notations made in Arabic. She looked back at the two Petty Officers.

"-of the Quantico base area." Jason finished for her.

Hammad grabbed Kazir's hand. "I told you no more!" the man hissed menacingly. For a moment it looked as if Kazir was going to turn on the older man, but Hammad's ice blue eyes made the younger man reconsider.

As Kazir's raised hand started to lower, a confused Fazirah thought she was about to be slapped again. She recoiled and began crying openly as she braced for the impact. Between her sobs, she gasped for air.

"Please Hammad, Kazir; please forgive me, I did not know…." Her pleading trailed off into wrenching sobs that wracked her tied up body.

Kazir stormed away from her and the others and walked into the adjoining room.

Hammad shook his head sadly at the two shackled people. "I'm afraid there is little I can do. Thankfully Fazirah, you did not deliberately betray us. We forgive you."

"Th-then you will try to g-get us our here?" she said sounded like a lost child being promised a way home.

"That I'm afraid is out of my hands," he said sadly.

"This is a photograph of an M-109A6, A Paladin self-propelled artillery gun…." said Marla, her hushed voice trailing off as she began to understand the implications of what they had found.

Handing the book back to Jennifer, she took the Zip disks and headed over to her laptop which was sitting on her desk. The two petty officers followed her. She booted up her machine and stuck one of the Zip disks into the machine. "If these have a virus, I'll have a dead-"

Kazir sat down at the keyboard and began typing furiously into the open instant message system.

Yankeeva21: Our grail is missing. The knights of darkness have our grail.

The response was almost immediate.

Wiseone3a: Then a quest is in order. Prepare for a journey.

Darcy looked at the words on her screen. The timing could not have been any better than if she had planned this herself. First she had pictures of that stubborn Navy lawyer, Commander Harmon Rabb, in a compromising position, and now this.

She grinned malevolently at the backlit screen, her twisted features resembling the visage seen by Harmon Rabb, Jr. in his dreams.

Lieutenant Colonel Darcy Livingston looked at the message again briefly before shutting down the secure laptop.

1704 Zulu

Counter-Terrorism Information Network [CTIN]

Langley, Virginia

At a terminal in NSA-CIA listening facility, the computer technician swore under his breath as he glanced at the latest message from the Falls Church terminal. Noting the message and the time it was sent, he punched a button on his desk phone.

"This is Burton, Yankeeva21 has sent another message to Iraq."

The pause was barely noticeable. "To the same secure terminal?"

"Yeah," Burton looked at his screen again. "We can see where it originated from and the main terminal it was routed to, but we can't see the destination point – the message's packets are split into sub-packets and encoded and directed to about 20 different sub- routers before being recombined at a secure router."

"As it's supposed to according to DOD internet protocols," came back the irritated voice.

"What are the details of Yankeeva21's message?" said another voice coming on the line.

"He's talking about a grail and knights of darkness-" said Burton.

Now the other voice became agitated as well. "Dammit! Send a notice to Special Agent Lina Reyes at the FBI Counter Terrorism Task Force and send a copy of all messages from Yankeeva21 up to this point – tell them we have a sleeper cell about to go active."

"Yes Sir. Right away," Burton cut the connection and punched another line. "This is CTIN technician Burton, I've got a flash message for Special Agent Reyes…."

-TBC…

Marla stopped and watched the machine boot up normally. She double-clicked on the ZIP drive directory. The drive was filled with folders. Nervously licking her lips, she double-clicked on the first folder. A PDF document appeared on the screen. Marla opened the document. The text could be plainly seen. It was written in flowing Arabic script. At the top of the document was a drawing of the earth, emphasizing the Middle East and Africa with a sword through the globe.

Jennifer and Jason leaned over Marla's shoulder and looked at the screen. "What does it say?" Jennifer could tell that the Marine Sergeant was clearly unnerved by what she was viewing.

Hammad looked sadly at the two shackled people. "Leave them here," he said in a low voice to Kazir's confederates. "Gather everyone at safe house number two…except for Adirah. We'll watch what happens from there."

Hammad left the room. The two men turned off the lights and left Fazirah and Hamid to the unwelcome darkness. The snik of the locking door ensured they were quite alone in the sound proofed room.

"Webb,"

"Special Agent Reyes, Webb," came back the irritated Hispanic voice. "How accurate is your information, and just when were you going to tell me about this little operation of yours?"

"And a good afternoon to you too, Lina," said Clayton Webb sarcastically. His immaculate white dress shirt was framed perfectly by his lavender tie with dark blue diamonds scattered across it.

He listened as the woman swore under her breath. "When was the message sent?"

"Not more than ten minutes ago," Clayton said as he started to get up. Standing, he brushed off some errant breadcrumbs that had landed on the wrinkle free gray slacks of his summer suit. He hated eating at his desk, but this case had him doing that more and more lately. Fortunately, mother had sent him several sandwiches by special courier.

"I'll get my team together and head over there. And Webb," she intoned dangerously, "don't tell Gibbs about this."

"I wouldn't dream of it," said Special Agent Clayton Webb with a smirk on his face. Lina Reyes hadn't heard the last part of his remark because she had already cut the connection.

Clayton put down the receiver when another agent came into his office and handed him a note. Reading it quickly, his smirk disappeared. He grabbed his coat from his coat tree and sprinted down the hallway.

Marla's normally confident voice was uneven. "Praise to Allah, the all merciful and compassionate. I wish you great success on your sacred mission…I will pray for your success against the Infidels…." She turned to face the two stunned Petty Officers. "My God, these are orders from an Al-Qaeda field commander-"

Jason Tiner could not believe what they were seeing. "Wha? How? Sergeant…Marla?"

The Corporal swiveled her chair so she could get to her workstation. She tapped in a password to unlock it, typed in another password and then opened a search engine displaying the DIA logo and quickly typed in a name.

"Marla, what is it?"

In a few moments the workstation displayed on the screen the information she requested. Jen gasped. Jason looked towards the Admiral's office. "Admiral! You need to see this!"

AJ Chegwidden quickly came out of his office and walked over to Marla's workstation. "Tiner, you'd better have-" He stopped, his eyes narrowing as he quickly studied the screen contents of her laptop and then the screen of her workstation. "Sergeant, what the hell-"

Jason turned to his commanding officer. "Sir, Petty Officer Coates found a pocket in the book that Mrs. Dodge gave her. This diskette and another one were found in it."

Jennifer opened the book she was holding and offered it to him. "Plus these photographs, Sir."

Marla momentarily turned away from her workstation and handed Admiral Chegwidden the folded silk cloth that had been sitting on her desk. "And this map of the Quantico area…Sir."

As he put the book aside and studied the photos and the map, his face grew grim. He looked back at the Marine. "Sergeant, how accurate is your intel on this?"

Her face mirrored his grim expression. "As accurate as it can be, Sir. We were lucky there wasn't a virus impregnated on these disks…."

He looked back sternly at the Sergeant, "If you're wrong, Givers-"

"-yes Sir, I understand," she nodded. "It'll be on my head, but I'd rather be wrong than have them steal a self propelled gun and do God knows what with it."

AJ looked over at Harriet who had been listening to the whole conversation since the Admiral came out of his office. "Get me General Everston at Quantico, Lieutenant! ASAP!"

"Aye Sir," she quickly began punching in the phone number. The pregnant blond Lieutenant's fingers flew over the phone's buttons. AJ turned back to his three junior non-commissioned officers.

"Coates, call Special Agent Lina Reyes at the FBI Counter Terrorism Task Force; Tiner, I want you and Coates to bring Mrs. Dodge in for questioning."

"Aye, Sir," replied Jennifer. She picked up her desk phone and made the call.

While she was speaking with the FBI, AJ looked over at Sergeant Givers' terminal. This DIA paralegal reminded him of a certain CIA Agent with her ability to come up with information no one else had. That in the Admiral's mind was not a good thing. (Why didn't she tell me before she still had ties to the DIA? Because she's still a spook, that's why….)

"Special Agent Reyes is out of the office, Sir," returned Coates. AJ swore under his breath at this incredibly bad timing. He had to make a decision about what to do next, and quick.

His next words sent a jolt through all the staff in the room, and Harriet almost put down the receiver that was in her hand.

"Before you leave, draw side arms and ammunition from the armory. Take Corporals Bauer and Gadsden with you."

He turned back to the Sergeant. "Givers, I want everything you can give me off these disks in hard copy, now."

He didn't need to say anything else. They understood what needed to be done, and how important it was.

"Aye, Sir!"

The two Petty Officers grabbed their covers and headed out toward the elevator. The Marine Sergeant quickly attached a printer cable to her laptop and hit the print key on her computer.

Harriet had recovered from her initial shock and continued to wait while the General's secretary transferred the call to the General Everston. Whatever he had seen, it was serious enough make Chegwidden arm his staff before picking up a possible suspect. The click on the line made her flinch.

"This is General Everston," said the gruff voice.

"Hold Sir for Admiral Chegwidden," Harriet looked over at the Admiral. "General Everston, Sir."

AJ picked up the phone at Marla's desk and punched the appropriate line. "This is Admiral Chegwidden, Judge Advocate General. Sir, we have just come upon some information that indicates an Al-Qaeda cell intends to break into your vehicle depot and steal one of your self propelled guns-"

AJ paused and closed his eyes while the voice at the other end became very animated. It was never easy to convince the top dog at a base that there might be something amiss.

"Yes General I understand, we got the word from a DIA operative just moments ago." He paused again as the Quantico commander inquired as to the accuracy of this information.

"Yes Sir, it's as accurate as we can get. Sir, I suggest you lock down your vehicle depot now and put the base on elevated alert. "Yes Sir, I'll fax a summary to you momentarily."

He cut his eyes over to Marla. "I'm on it, Sir."

As the printer began spitting pages out, Harriet moved to Marla's workstation. "I'll help her, Sir."

The phone in the guardhouse rang. Sergeant Cassie Ramirez looked back as Corporal Jon Burkett reached down to pick it up.

"Guardhouse, Burkett." He looked around and picked up a clipboard attached to the wall. "Aye Gunny, just a moment."

He turned back to Cassie. "It's Gunny Brewster, Ma'am."

Cassie and Jon switched positions as she picked up the phone. "Yes, Gunny?"

"Word from the Admiral," replied Gunnery Sergeant Anson Brewster as he crossed off notify guardhouse on his notepad list. The Guardhouse was the last place on his list that Captain Jimenez had mentioned in his briefing about the Army terrorism exercise and the JAG's wish that he be the winner in this contest.

"As of right now, both you and Corporal Burkett are to chamber rounds into your weapons, but keep them on safe."

"Aye, Gunny, chamber rounds, but keep weapons on safe."

Cassie knew better than to question Gunny Brewster. If the man wanted their weapons loaded, there had to be a good reason for it.

"Good Ramirez, I'll contact you later with any needed updates. Carry on."

"Aye, aye, Gunny." She hung up the phone and looked over at her partner. "Orders from Gunny; lock and load, but leave your safety on."

"What's this all about, Sergeant?"

"I don't know Jon, but do as the man says."

"You've got it, Ma'am." Both Marines chambered rounds into their M-16A2 assault rifles.

Gunny Anson Brewster, senior Sergeant of the JAG Security Company, hung up the phone and made a note on his written orders from Jimenez about the exercise. That was the last item on his list that had to be done.

"Let's just see those Army snake eaters get into this place now," he said to himself aloud.

"Army snake eaters, Anson?"

He looked up to see Victor Galindez, the former JAG Corps Headquarters administrative head_, _and one his best friends standing in his doorway. Both Gunnies had entered the service at roughly the same time.

Anson broke into big smile. "Victor, how the hell are you?" He stood up and shook Galindez' extended hand.

Victor, dressed in jeans and dark red western style dress shirt, returned his smile. "Doing pretty good," he looked around the tiny cluttered room. "So they finally broke down and made you the senior Sergeant in JAG security." He took a stack of papers off a nearby chair, pulled it up next to Brewster's desk and sat down. "Beats me how a paper pack rat like you with no sense of organization, could have landed such a plum job," he teased.

His old friend chuckled, as he twirled one end of his mustache looking like a bad impression of Snively Whiplash. "Gotta know where those bodies are buried, ole' buddy." Gunny Galindez snorted and Brewster grinned again.

"Seriously though, Gunny Flores retired last fall. Cap'n asked me to fill in until they could find a replacement. Then with the war on, they asked me if I wanted the position. I would have been a fool to turn them down."

Anson turned around to his perking coffee maker and poured two cups of coffee. He handed one to Victor and then he took a long sip from the other, savoring the infusion of caffeine.

The former JAG Corps administrative head nodded his thanks and took a long sip as well, then looked at his old friend.

"Flores always spoke highly of you-"

Anson smiled deprecatingly. "-when he wasn't kicking my butt. But you know, Victor, he was right in everything he did."

"Yeah, the man knew his stuff," Victor readily agreed, "So what's this I hear about Army snake eaters?"

Anson's smile disappeared. "The Admiral got wind that some Army Special Forces pukes were going to try and attack JAG Headquarters – one of those readiness exercises – but the old man doesn't want us losing to them. So he passed the info to Captain Jimenez-"

"-who then passed the information to you," Gunny Galindez finished for him. He understood his friend's annoyance with these readiness games, but this wasn't like Admiral Chegwidden at all, thought Victor. He would want win, but not with an unfair advantage. There was something else going on here. The Admiral rarely participated in exercises with Army Special Forces – still, it could have been Pentagon mandated….

"Yep, we Gunnies get to do all the dirty work," Continued Brewster, not realizing what Victor was thinking. "I just finished calling the main Guardhouse to get them ready for this, and alert them about what to expect."

"Without giving anything away to them, I hope." Victor decided telling Brewster his suspicions would not help. He looked back at his friend. "So Cassie doesn't suspect the bad guys are coming?"

"Right; 'we' can't tell 'our' folks what is going on – that wouldn't be fair." Brewster let a playful smile tug at his lips. "Wait a minute, did you say Cassie? You mean Sergeant Ramirez, don't you Gunnery Sergeant?"

Victor smiled and shook his head. "You're right as always Gunny Brewster, how thoughtless of me."

"Cassie's a good kid, Victor." Anson Brewster said seriously.

Victor sobered as well. "I know she is, Anson. I wouldn't do anything to hurt her, you know that."

"Just playing mother hen, buddy…" he said seriously, then let that façade slip a little "Or in this case, father rooster." He took another sip from his cup.

"Got it; look, you have nothing to worry about. Cassie and I are just friends."

"So were Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie, buddy," Anson reminded him. "Just don't screw up her career."

"You've got nothing to worry about." Victor reassured him as he took a couple of more swallows from his cup. What was worrying him was what the JAG was up to.

"Okay buddy, I'm holding you to that." Then Anson looked at his watch and shook his head in disgust. "Wonder what time this 'attack' is going to take place?"

Victor understood the man's frustration, but also knew that the man needed to be calm and collected, not agitated. "Anson, all you're doing is churning up your insides. This is supposed to be surprise attack, remember?"

"But it's okay for the old man to alert the Cap'n," he said sarcastically.

Victor smiled wryly, "That's the way it works, Anson."

"Yeah, I know; but I don't have to like it, Victor. You know, I've been in the Corps since 1979. I've got a few more years in the service before I retire and you know what I'd like?"

Gunny Galindez leaned forward putting his cup on the only clear spot on the desk in front of him. "No; what?"

Anson Brewster got a faraway look in his eyes. "Just once, I'd like to see some action…."

Victor spread his hands, gesturing to the clutter filled room. "This isn't action enough?"

Anson gave his old friend a sharp look. "You know what I mean, buddy."

"Be careful what you wish for, Anson." said Victor sagely.

"You've been on the frontlines, what's it like?" Victor had seen that look in many a rookie's eyes.

Suddenly, despite the fact they were nearly the same age, Galindez felt very old. He looked grimly at his old friend. "It's war buddy, plain and simple, them versus us; it's not glamorous or glorious, but it's necessary."

Anson realized he had hit a sensitive spot, so he dampened his enthusiasm, much like a child does when told the trip to Disneyland was planned for was next week, not this week. "Okay Victor, I get it, but still, sometimes, I wish I'd been out there with you."

Victor felt like a grizzled old vet giving advice to a new boot fresh out of camp. "You're doing your job Anson, that's what that counts, besides who'd oversee JAG Corps security?"

His old friend gave him a wry grin and nodded in agreement. "Okay, you have a point." Anson decided to switch subjects to lighten the somber mood that had filled the room. "Hey, why don't you tell me about that poker game the Admiral's yeoman had last night. So how was it?"

Victor gave him a sly grin as he picked up his cup again. "The game was okay, but the evening's entertainment was even better,"

Anson leaned forward conspiratorially, holding his cup between his hands, his elbows resting on the desk. "What do you mean?"

"Sergeant Givers and Petty Officer Coates got into it a couple of times during the game."

"A chick fight? Man, sorry I missed that. What caused it?"

Gunny Galindez took a sip from his cup. "Our own Petty Officer Jason Tiner…."

Anson almost choked on his coffee, laughing heartily. "You mean that Coates and that new Sergeant were squaring off over the Admiral's Executive Assistant?"

"Yep, our own little law school student; you should've seen them. Apparently, Jennifer Coates has taken a liking to mister 'faints at the sight of pregnant women'."

Anson put his cup down. "Competitive?"

Victor did the same, he didn't want to spill the rest of his coffee when they both started laughing. "So much so that Givers cornered ole' Jason in his kitchen and what they were doing in there made Jen so furious that she barely spoke to him for the rest of the evening."

"Wow," said Anson Brewster chuckling, "I'd have loved to be a fly on the wall of that kitchen."

Victor was about to add his own comment, when the Gunny's desk phone rang.

Anson picked it up "Brewster…,"

On the other end of the line was the JAG Corps armory technician. "Gunny, it's Corporal Chang. I have two Petty Officers here who need to sign out weapons…."

Anson made a face at Victor. "More of Admiral Chegwidden's war games," he said cupping his hand over the receiver of the phone. "Want to come with me down to the armory?"

Victor shook his head. "Nah, I think I'll head upstairs."

"Suit yourself, slacker." He winked at his friend. "Be there in a minute, Chang."

Victor nodded to his now occupied friend. The former Santa Fe, New Mexico Deputy Sheriff decided this was a good time to slip out and go upstairs. He knew Admiral Chegwidden well enough to know something else was going on besides a routine anti-terrorism exercise.

Victor left Gunny Brewster's office and headed up the back stairwell to the JAG Corps bullpen.

Marla and Harriet were almost finished printing out the last of the main documents from the diskettes, when Clayton Webb stepped off the elevator and walked through the open double doors of the JAG Corps Headquarters bullpen area.

Clayton walked up to Lieutenant Sims.

"Special Agent Webb?" said Harriet looking up at him.

"Lieutenant," he returned evenly. "Is Admiral Chegwidden in?"

Harriet Sims took the protective staff member stance. "Yes he is, Sir, but he's very busy at the moment-"

As if on cue, AJ came out of his office. "Lieutenant, how are you and-" He stopped when he saw CIA Special Agent Webb standing in his bullpen. His stomach rolled at the thought of why he was here. It was probably not to bring good news.

"Webb, what are you doing here?" The Admiral asked pointedly.

Uncharacteristically, Clayton hurriedly answered the JAG. "Admiral, I just got word about what your Sergeant Givers found-"

Marla had the urge to stomp on the clod's foot, (I'm right here in front of you, birdbrain) but her Marine training overcame that urge. Besides, Harriet Sims eyes flashed indignation for her.

"Sergeant Givers is *right here* Mr. Webb." Marla swore she could hear the pregnant blond woman actually snort at the CIA man.

Without missing a beat Clayton turned to the Marine Sergeant, "We appreciate what you did, Sergeant." Then he turned back to the Admiral. "Admiral, we need to talk,"

AJ shook his head grimacing. "I should have known you were mixed up in this somehow…."

"Admiral, please, we need to talk right now," he looked around. "But not out here. May we go into your office?"

Chegwidden looked from Harriet and Marla back to Webb. Whatever he had to say, he could say it in the bullpen in front of everyone.

But in reality, the JAG knew better. AJ sighed and gestured to his open office door. He turned to Harriet. "Let me know the moment Tiner and Coates get back, Lieutenant."

"Aye, aye, Sir." replied Harriet.

AJ followed Special Agent Webb into his office and shut the door.

Clayton Webb stood facing the JAG. AJ noticed there was something not right about his stance. Usually the CIA agent was calm cool and collected – the epitome of irritation. But not this visit. He actually looked…well, anxious.

The former SEAL stood with his back to the closed door, his broad arms crossed, as he faced the Paramaribo Station Chief. "So, just what do you know about what's going on in Mirbullah?" asked AJ without preamble.

"We're concerned about the Falls Church terrorist cell that Petty Officers Coates and Tiner stumbled upon…and I want to see the documents that Sergeant Givers translated."

AJ's bald pate began to turn red. "How the hell do you know about what she translated?" he barked. "Did that military spook send a message to you?" AJ Chegwidden didn't tolerate his people doing end runs around the chain of command. There had been more than enough of that lately.

Clayton flinched. "When Sergeant Givers logged into the DIA terminal, it automatically forwarded her original message to my office."

AJ wasn't sure he entirely believed that. "So the CIA and DIA share information routinely now? I thought there was competition between your two agencies."

"Not since nine-eleven," he replied. "Admiral, this cell Sergeant Givers identified is an off-shoot of the cell that was based in Mirbullah before the 36th began their operations. My contacts in Iraq say there is a mole in the 36th that has been feeding information to all the Al-Qaeda cells in Iraq."

AJ walked over to his desk and sat down. "Webb, how is it my people always end up tangled with you? Are your fellow agents really that boring, or is it more likely that none of them will work with you anymore?"

Clayton Webb ignored that barb. "Admiral, if you'll just-"

But the JAG would have none of it. "Did you know about this 'mole' before I sent my people to Iraq, Mr. Webb? Because if you did, I may just have to break your nose again…"

Clayton Webb sat back in his chair. "Admiral, it was need-to-know information of National Security importance, level one classified. Our original thought was that the mole was an enlisted man, or at the very most, a civilian with close ties to the unit. We had no way of confirming that Lieutenant Dodge's murder was tied to the mole-"

AJ stood with his hands on his hips. "-but you do now, thanks to my JAGMan investigation, right? Dammit Webb, when are you going to stop using my people for your cloak and dagger games? That's four of my best lawyers out there-"

For the first time in his life, Clayton Webb looked ashamed. "I know Admiral and I'm sorry…."

AJ Chegwidden was secretly pleased. (Serves him right, having a guilty conscience for having involved *my people* in so many of his harebrained schemes.) Then he remembered what he had heard about Mac's Chaco Boreal Operation with this spook. So this may have been a play for sympathy. Typical of Clayton Webb.

"You're just sorry you can't be there rubbing elbows with Mac," the JAG said cuttingly, dismissing Clayton's 'poor pitiful me' tactic. "How come you didn't know about this cell before now?"

"They were a sleeper cell. Deep cover; we had our suspicions for months. They used internet cafes and public libraries to send their transmissions. Getting access to the patron records took time. We're doing our best to locate the mole in the 36th, but my contacts have had little luck finding the officer-"

AJ exploded. "Officer? You mean a Marine Officer has turned traitor? Webb, what else do you know that you're not telling me?" Clayton, in response to this outburst stood up.

The former SEAL walked around his desk to where Clayton stood and leaned in dangerously close to the CIA agent. "You'd better start coming clean with me, Mr. Webb, or I will make sure that you end up in intensive care in the next thirty minutes!"

Facing another broken nose or worse was not a pleasant thought for Porter and Neville's only son. He crumbled under the JAG's promise. "Okay, there's a chance the mole is an officer in the Force Recon unit, probably pretty highly placed…."

"Force Recon?" AJ Chegwidden's voice dropped an octave. Hurricane Albert Jethro Chegwidden was about to inundate a certain unwary CIA Officer. "How *highly placed*, Mister Webb? I want a *name*, and I want it *right now*."

Clayton Webb suddenly understood the danger he was in. Using his usual 'that's classified' tactic would only result in the rearranging of his bridgework by a certain Navy Admiral.

Clayton's dry mouth was about to cough out a half truth, when the door to the JAG's office opened.

"Sir? I think I can shed some light on this…."

AJ turned toward the now open door. His face was a mixture of anger and confusion. "Gunny? What the blue blazes is going on around here? How did you get involved?"

Gunny Galindez looked apologetically at the two men. "Sorry for the intrusion, Sir, Mr. Webb, but I thought I might be able to better explain the details."

AJ caught the Gunnery Sergeant's double entendre. "Don't be sorry son, if you can shed some light on this *situation*, do so." Gunny Galindez took the invitation and moved closer to the two men, standing off to one side at parade rest.

"Yes Sir. Being in Force Recon for the Second Marine Division while in Afghanistan, I ran into the person that Mr. Webb suspects as being the mole."

"Who is it Gunny?" AJ prompted. He knew he'd get more out of his favorite Gunnery Sergeant than he would out of 'spook man' standing next to him.

"That would be Captain Jac Lewis, Sir."

AJ and Webb turned their heads toward the still open door and stared at Sergeant Marla Givers standing in the doorway. Victor nodded for her to come on in the room.

"Sergeant…." AJ began menacingly. He already had started to take a dislike to her for her spook tactics. He'd never let another spook into his outfit – even if she was Defense Department.

Victor was quick to go to her defense. "Sir, it was my idea for her to join us,"

"Gunnery Sergeant," said Clayton Webb officiously, "she is not cleared-"

Victor stood his ground. "Begging your pardon Sir, but this meeting won't go very far without her inclusion…."

"If she can help explain who the mole is then I trust Gunnery Sergeant Galindez's judgment, Mr. Webb," said AJ with a hint of irritation in his voice directed at the CIA Special Agent. "Besides this is my office." Having cowed Clayton into silence he turned back to the two Marine NCOs. "Now how does she fit into this, Gunnery Sergeant?"

"Because Sir, she and I worked jointly on the Lieutenant Colonel Murphy friendly fire investigation." Victor explained.

-TBC…


	34. Chapter 33

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 33

Anson Brewster walked down the hall toward the armory. Two Petty Officers requesting pistols. (Probably should have asked for their names,) he thought as he neared the corner in the narrow corridor that would lead him to the armory desk. (Ah, it's probably more of this exercise bull….)

As he rounded the corner he saw Petty Officers Jason Tiner and Jennifer Coates waiting for him along with Corporal Chang.

Anson could not have been more shocked at the sight of the two Petty Officers waiting for him.

The JAG remembered that case. During the height of Operation Anaconda, the 36th MEU had been attached to Task Force K-Bar as part of the Combined Task Force Mountain. Their job was to screen the exfiltration routes of Al Qaeda troops defending 'The Whale'.

Lieutenant Colonel 'Big Bill' Murphy, Force Recon Commander and Major Alex Gunderson – Operational Detachment 'B' – Headquarters Company of the 1st Battalion, 3rd Special Forces, were in their operational command tent going over reports from the battle, when one of the supporting Close Air Support units, VFMA-819, 'The Goshawks' screamed over their compound. Big Bill came out to see what was going on.

Before anyone could react, the flight of F-18s dropped their bombs.

Horrified eyes had watched as the command tent took a direct hit. Big Bill dove for the cover of a nearby foxhole. Nothing was left of Gunderson or the tent. Then Taliban snipers opened fire. Big Bill caught three rounds in quick succession.

Admiral Chegwidden had thought it was an open and shut case – the fog of war, confused coordinates, combined with desperation to help the trapped US SEALs and other special operations soldiers on 'The Whale'. All of this had created a tragic friendly fire incident.

Add to that a deadly accurate and lucky Taliban spoiling assault on one of the command and control elements of the US forces and on the surface it just looked like one of those tragic things that sometimes happen in a war.

Though Major Fenton Corson, flight leader of the Goshawks, could not have killed Murphy, he was found guilty of fratricide in the death of Major Gunderson.

AJ could not believe what he was hearing. "Gunny, are you telling me the investigation was closed prematurely? By the investigating Staff JAG?"

"No Sir, Admiral," said Gunny evenly, "From above him."

"Above him?" Chimed in Clayton, "Who?"

"The acting Commander of the 2nd Force Recon," said Marla.

"Colonel Darcy Livingston," said AJ. Now this puzzle was starting to make sense. But he didn't like where this was going. The idea that an acting head of the 36th MEU's Force Recon unit would use undue command influence to halt an accident investigation meant she might be capable of darker acts – especially if the accident wasn't an accident.

"Why did she do that?" asked the special agent still trying to put the pieces together.

"Lack of evidence Sir," replied Victor, "All of our evidence that had pointed to Captain Lewis had disappeared."

"Captain Lewis?" said Clayton and AJ at the same time, earning the CIA man an annoyed look from the JAG.

"Yes Sir," Victor continued, "without our evidence, there was only the friendly fire evidence."

"And with the evidence that you had had, what did you suspect?" AJ was beginning to suspect he knew the answer.

"That Taliban snipers did not attack the compound, Sir."

AJ Chegwidden felt his stomach lurch again.

Clayton Webb looked sternly at his recent cohort in the Chaco Boreal. "Gunny, are you saying it was yours and Sergeant Givers' belief that Captain Lewis killed both Major Gunderson and Lieutenant Colonel Murphy?"

Victor had steel resolve in his gaze. "Yes Sir."

Though bile was beginning to work its way up his throat, AJ had to be sure his misgivings were verified. "Givers, Galindez, are you telling us an innocent Marine Major was court-martialed?"

"Sacrificed for a so-called 'greater good' Sir," supplied Victor, "Our preliminary evidence told us Major Corson's flight had been redirected, but now we only have rudimentary circumstantial evidence that points to that."

"And nothing else."

"Yes Sir, and nothing else."

"So what you have right now against Captain Lewis is basically worthless," surmised Webb.

"That would be true, Sir," added Marla, "except for the fact that I continued my own independent surveillance of Captain Lewis."

Corporal Chang handed Gunny Brewster the armory inventory clipboard.

"Tiner, what are you and Coates doing here?" Anson Brewster asked.

"Orders from Admiral Chegwidden, Gunny. We're to place Lieutenant Dodge's widow in protective custody. He wanted us to be armed before we left."

Brewster finished signing off on the clipboard and handed it back to the Corporal who hung it back on its wall mount.

He eyed the two Petty Officers like a DI inspecting new recruits. "Do you have anybody going with you?"

"Corporals Bauer and Gadsden are coming with us," replied Jen as she took the M-92P Beretta nine millimeter automatic and cocked it, checking that the sliding action of the bolt was working properly. Despite the fact that she was a legal aide and staff assistant in the JAG's bullpen, the woman, at least in Anson's estimation, looked to be very familiar with how to handle automatic pistols.

He noticed that Jason Tiner was watching her too.

"Tiner, how long has it been since you've been to the firing range?" asked Gunny Brewster.

Jason Tiner made a face as he took his pistol from Corporal Chang along with its box of ammunition. "My pistol qualification test was last month, I scored at marksman level."

"Expert would have been better, Petty Officer," replied Brewster caustically.

Though she might have helped Gunny's case against Captain Lewis, the Admiral still didn't like her spook tactics. "I hope for your sake that you found the risk of cleaning latrines in Guantanamo worth this, Sergeant."

Again Victor stood up for her. "Yes, Sir, it was. About two months ago, an M1 tank was lost in action."

"I read the report," said AJ dismissively, leveling his eyes at the DIA Sergeant. "What does a combat-lossed tank have to do with your independent investigation of Captain Lewis, Sergeant?"

Marla bravely faced the Admiral. "Captain Lewis was in charge of the operation that lead to the loss. He ordered the crew to abandon the tank even though they said it was repairable."

AJ wanted more before he'd like this paralegal spook again. "How was it lost, Sergeant?"

"It was disabled during a search and destroy operation north of Mirbullah, Admiral." Supplied the CIA agent.

AJ gave Clayton Webb a questioning glare. "Disabled? It was reported as destroyed…."

"Look, Gunny Brewster," Tiner returned, somewhat irritated as he put the pistol in his hip holster, "we appreciate your concern, but we'll have both Bauer and Gadsden with us. We'll be okay."

"Petty Officer if the situation goes bad, you'd better pray the bad guys are lousy shots. Just tell me this; why are you and Coates doing this?"

Both Petty Officers stopped what they were doing and focused their attention on the Gunnery Sergeant. The armory technician was trying to make himself look inconspicuous.

"I received a book from Mrs. Dodge-" began Jennifer.

"What kind book?" asked Anson, interrupting.

"A book of Saints," Jason added, hoping to clarify, but he only muddied the water further.

Anson pulled his hand through his black crew cut hair and blew out a frustrated breath. "And this told you what?"

Jennifer was beginning to chafe under the man's pointed questions and sarcasm about their abilities. "It had maps, orders, and photographs in it about an imminent Al-Qaeda attack against Quantico."

"Against Quantico?" Anson Brewster couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Yes," replied Jason somewhat angrily. He really did like Gunny Brewster, but the man was stalling them. "And now the Admiral wants us to bring in Mrs. Dodge."

"Only after it was found, Sir," said Victor referring to the disabled tank, saving the CIA agent from bodily injury.

AJ was beginning to think the way Victor was acting that he had become a spook as well. Had his entire staff been subverted by the CIA? "Found? Explain this to me, Gunny."

"The tank threw a track after trying to cross some rough ground. The crew, following standard procedures, claimed they could repair the damaged track, but Captain Lewis wouldn't hear of it. He told them to abandon the tank and follow up forces would combat loss the tank to prevent it from falling into enemy hands-" Victor Galindez stopped and locked eyes with AJ Chegwidden. "-but I was with the recon team that went in to check on the job done. When we got there, we found a completely operational tank-"

"-except for the fact that the crankcase had been drained of oil-" Marla noted helpfully.

Gunny Galindez nodded "—right, and the engine had been left running until it seized."

"And all ammunition and fuel had been removed from the tank when they found it, Sir." The Sergeant completed the picture.

"120 millimeter rounds make deadly IED's." said AJ dourly as he processed this disturbing information.

"And the Fedayeen and Al-Qaeda fighters have been using captured US arms," added Clayton Webb.

"The machine gun rounds alone from an M1 tank could supply several squads," Marla stated factually.

"Let me go with you," said Anson Brewster.

Jason and Jennifer stared at the senior Sergeant of JAG Corps security. "Gunny, we're just picking up Mrs. Dodge for questioning." said Jason reasonably.

"Look, you kids may know the law, but you know nothing about security and police operations." He pinned Jason with a questioning look. "Have you ever been in a firefight, Petty Officer Tiner?"

I'm US naval Petty Officer, Gunny." said Jason defensively, "I know the risks, and I think we can handle it."

Jennifer decided to intercede before this got ugly. "Gunny, we appreciate your offer, but both Bauer and Gadsden are experienced law officers and both have combat experience."

That stung Anson, but he knew she was right.

"We'll be okay, Gunny." said Jason in a less confrontational manner, following Jennifer's lead.

"Okay," he relented. "I'll let Sergeant Ramirez, and Corporal Burkett, know that you're coming." He looked at both the Petty Officers with a mixture of envy and pride. "Get going."

The JAG turned to the CIA agent. "Webb, I know I'm not going to like the answer I'm about to hear from you, but why wasn't I told about this?"

The agent gave his pat answer. "It was 'need to know', Admiral."

AJ gritted his teeth. "Somehow, I knew that was the answer. So, Gunny, how did you and Sergeant Givers put two and two together?"

"The information about the tank ended up on a web site known for its Al-Qaeda sympathies," explained Marla again answering AJ's question, "when I was rotated back to the Pentagon, I was assigned to track possible terrorist supported web sites. Gunny fed me the information about their recovery operation and the evidence that pointed to Captain Lewis." Gunny Galindez replied.

"Again, Sir, it's mostly circumstantial." admitted Marla, "but they're very few other people that could have set this up."

AJ looked blandly at the CIA Agent. "So you were thinking that Captain Lewis might be the mole, Webb?"

Sweat broke out on the man's forehead. "That's exactly what I was thinking, Admiral."

AJ shook his head. "You know Webb, I told you once before that it worried me that our brains work in tandem. So can you tell me what else that we are thinking?"

He couldn't hide the information behind half-truths anymore. "If Captain Lewis is the mole, it would explain a lot of what has happened in Mirbullah."

"And why the 36th has had such a hard time tracking down Al Sahood." added Victor.

Clayton cleared his throat, which caused everyone to focus their attention on him. "There is one other piece to missing from this puzzle…."

AJ fixed the man with pointed stare. "Well then, enlighten us, please, Mister Webb."

Clayton loosened his tie. "Okay, shortly after Operation Anaconda, a Taliban safe house in the Shah e Kot valley was raided. Based on the documents found there, we know for a fact that Samir Khan, warlord leader in the Suchistan province, was working with Osama bin Laden's top Lieutenants on munitions-delivered chemical weapons. The films we found suggested their tests were successful."

The JAG walked over to his thinking spot by the window. After a moment of silence he turned back toward the CIA man. "How big of warhead are we talking about?"

Clayton hated when AJ did this to him. If the Director ever found out, he would find a place more remote than Paramaribo to station him. "Roughly the size of the ones fitted on SCUD and FROG mobile missile launchers."

All three military people were speechless. How could the CIA keep information like this to itself?

The Special Agent continued. "The worst part is that NSA recorded several cell phone conversations between Al-Sahood and Khan about smuggling the weapons out of Afghanistan, and getting them to Iraq for use when US forces crossed the Iraq-Kuwaiti border."

The guardhouse phone rang again. Cassie bent down to pick it up. "Ramirez,"

"Sergeant, in a few moments Petty Officers Tiner and Coates will be coming to the front gate, accompanied by Corporals Bauer and Gadsden. All will be armed."

Cassie wasn't sure what to make of what she was being told. So she decided to do what all good Marines do. Follow orders. "Aye, Gunny."

"They are headed out to pick up a witness and possible suspect for questioning in the Dodge murder case."

"And we're to be prepared just in case someone wants this witness back, right Gunny?"

"I'd say that's a valid conclusion to come to, Sergeant. Keep me informed about any changes in the current situation. That will be all."

Victor Galindez looked up, usually Jason Tiner was hovering around the bullpen with Jen Coates, but he only saw Harriet Sims working the photocopier.

"Admiral, where are Tiner and Coates?"

"I sent them to pick up Mrs. Dodge for questioning," replied the JAG.

Victor fought the urge to say 'Admiral, are you crazy?'

"I'd better go with them," said Victor as he moved toward the door.

"I'll join you, Gunny," replied Marla, as she also moved toward the door. He stopped and looked at her confused by her actions. "You'll need back up," she explained sheepishly.

"Belay that, Gunny, Sergeant," the JAG snapped, as he turned toward the door.

Both Marines stopped short of the door. Gunny Galindez turned to face the man. "But, Sir-" he began.

"Gunny?" AJ didn't bark, but the threat was there nonetheless in the steel that laced his command voice.

Gunny Galindez looked at the door and then back at the JAG. For a half a moment he considered disobeying the Admiral's order. But Victor knew better. Instead he tried reasoning with the man.

"Admiral," the man pleaded with his senior officer, "with all due respect, Tiner may know the law, but he doesn't know anything about how bad guys operate. Sir, walking into the witness's house, especially if it's a possible terrorist hide out, without backup, is crazy!"

AJ Chegwidden chafed a little at what this Gunnery Sergeant was telling him, but deep down he understood the Gunny's concerns. And, his overwhelming need to protect the younger NCOs from possible danger. "Gunny, Corporals Bauer and Gadsden are accompanying the Petty Officers; there is no need to be concerned."

The JAG Headquarters staff car approached the gate. Cassie could see that Jen was driving and Jason was in the passenger seat. In the back of the car sat Corporals Bauer and Gadsden. The sedan pulled up to the guardhouse. Corporal Burkett looked in at Jason.

"Petty Officer," He could clearly see his hip holster and the pistol inside it as well as Jen's

"Corporal," returned Jason. "We're headed over to pick up Mrs. Dodge for questioning. We should be back at 1500."

He made a notation on the clipboard. "See you then." He looked into the car. "Be careful guys." They looked at each other, and then back at him.

"Don't worry about us, Jon, we'll be okay." They saluted the Corporal and he returned their salute. Then Jen pulled through the open gate and headed to the end of the street.

The JAG's comment did little to calm Victor. "Sir, have Tiner or Coates ever been in domestic dispute gone bad, or had to handle to suspect that turns violent? Admiral, I'm a former Deputy Sheriff and I know how to handle this…they don't, and could very well be walking into a trap."

Marla stood in awed silence as did Clayton Webb. This is as close to insubordination as a member of AJ's personal staff had ever come.

A look of cold fury briefly crossed AJ's face. "Because you're not attached to my command right now, Gunnery Sergeant, I'm going to ignore that last remark and chalk it up to an emotional outburst."

He walked over to his desk and sat down. Victor felt the verbal slap of AJ's comment. He had to rein himself in. "I apologize Admiral, I was out of line." He said quietly.

AJ's features softened a little. Despite what some may have thought of him lately, he was not heartless. "It's okay Gunny, I understand. They have Corporals Bauer and Gadsden going with them; both have combat experience. They'll know what to do if the situation goes bad."

Victor nodded. "Yes Sir." Corporals Jim Gadsden and Pete Bauer had served in Iraqi Freedom and faced the Republican Guard gauntlet on the highway to Baghdad. Both knew what combat was about, also both had been patrolmen in Chicago.

Marla decided to transform the awkward moment into a graceful exit. "Admiral, with your permission, I'd like to get back to my desk and analyze the rest of the data on those diskettes. Gunnery Sergeant, I could use your help."

AJ looked up at the Sergeant. (She knows when to back down and she's smart too, giving Gunny a way out….) "Granted; Gunny your experience in Afghanistan and Iraq may be helpful to her." He let the suggestion hang in the air.

"Aye Sir." said Victor. Both Marines came to attention and then turned to exit the room.

"We're here," announced Tiner, as Jen slowed to a stop in front of the Crystal Valley Apartments.

"Pete and I will keep you covered, Petty Officer," Gadsden noted, as both Corporals exited the car.

Tiner nodded. Everything he had been taught about bringing in suspects/witnesses told him Jennifer shouldn't be doing this. But try telling that to a street-wise girl from Hagerstown, Maryland. Besides, she would argue quite correctly, Mrs. Dodge would listen to her. After all, she gave her that book, didn't she?

Still, Jason felt uneasy about not having her wait at the car, no matter how chauvinist it might sound. He was glad she couldn't read his thoughts.

They both got out of the sedan and headed up the walkway to front door of Mrs. Dodge's apartment.

Jason glanced over at her as they walked up the sidewalk. Jennifer noticed him glancing at her. "What?"

Concern lined his face. "Are you sure you're okay with doing this?"

Earlier in her career, that kind of protective comment would have angered her, but for some reason, coming from Jason Tiner, it sounded sweet. She smiled at the Senior Petty Officer.

"Gadsden and Bauer are covering us, Tiner. Besides, I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."

Despite the logic of her answer, Jason was a little disappointed. "Sure." He said quietly.

Now it was her turn to take a quick look at him, and when she caught his attention, give him a small smile.

"Thanks though, for offering. I really appreciate it."

Jason felt a blush creeping toward his face. "Sure."

They exchanged a long glance, before Jason remembered what they were here to do. He walked up to the door and rang the doorbell. Another woman of Arab descent wearing a gray chadora opened the door. "Yes?"

Jason was taken aback that this wasn't Mrs. Dodge. "Um, I'm sorry to disturb you," Jason said, "I thought this was Fazirah Dodge's residence."

The woman looked blandly at the two American naval officers. "It is." She said after a long silence.

Jason gave the woman a polite smile. "I'm Petty Officer Jason Tiner, this is Petty Officer Jennifer Coates; we'd like to speak to her…."

The woman, Adirah Faghami, tried to hide her recognition of the names of the infidels who had their plans, behind a screen of indifference. She wished she had a double-edged knife right now.

"She is not here." said the woman brusquely.

Jennifer tried to peer past her into the apartment, but the woman moved to block her view. She and Jen exchanged penetrating stares. Neither was going to back down.

Jason tried again. "Ma'am, she was here just a little while ago…did she say where she was going?"

The response was cold and a little hostile. "She did not say. I will tell her you came by." The woman started to close the door.

Jason handed her a card. "Tell her to give us a call the moment she comes in."

Adirah stopped and looked at the card and then back at Jason. "I will tell her to call." She said insipidly then shut the door in their faces.

Jason and Jen looked at each other for a moment unsure what to do next. By an unspoken agreement, they decided standing on the front doorstep waiting for Mrs. Dodge to return wasn't a great idea, so they headed back to the sedan where they were joined by Corporals Bauer and Gadsden.

"What happened?" asked Bauer.

"She wasn't there," said Jennifer.

"Are you sure?" probed Gadsden.

"The woman who answered the door said she wasn't, and that's all we have to go on." replied Jason.

"I don't like it, something smells." muttered Bauer.

Jason and Jennifer looked back toward the apartment and then back at the two JAG security officers. "We don't like it either, but there isn't much we can do without a search warrant." said Jennifer.

"Look," said Gadsden trying allay concerns about the dead Lieutenant's wife not being there, "maybe she just went out on a errand. She'll probably be back in a little while."

"I agree," Jason said heading for the driver's side of the car, "let's head back to JAG Headquarters and give her a call later. There is no reason to suspect anything at this point. The woman who answered the door probably doesn't trust armed soldiers."

"What about the Admiral?" ventured Jennifer.

Both Corporals looked to Tiner. He was senior NCO in this group.

The Petty Officer 3rd Class sighed. "Call the Admiral, Coates, find out what he wants us to do."

As Jennifer started to make the call on her cell phone, all four got back in the sedan.

The Petty Officer 2nd Class hissed her frustration with the phone and its cute little tone.

Jason looked over at her. "What's wrong?"

She mimicked the mechanical voice of her phone. "Error code seven; your signal is not strong enough, please wait until you reach an area with stronger signal reception."

Jason made up his mind. "We'll head back to JAG." He started up the car. The Admiral probably would not like it, but given the circumstances he probably would agree with their actions.

Adirah watched as they got into the car and drove off. She tore the business card in half and crushed the remains in her shaking hands. She had been close enough to kill her enemies and didn't. She dropped the crumpled remains of the card on the floor. She opened her cell phone and punched a button.

"They are on their way. Dark blue Ford sedan. Logos on the door panels say JAG. The man named Jason is driving and the woman Jennifer is in the front passenger seat. There are two soldiers riding in the back seat – all are armed." She closed her cell phone and continued to peer out the window.

The JAG Ford Crown Victoria LTD pulled out onto the freeway onramp and picked up speed, smoothly merging into the early afternoon traffic.

"There they are." Kazir pointed at the car as it pulled into the middle lane. "Make sure you do not lose sight of them, but do not get too close, we do not want them alert to our presence."

The driver, a young man of not more than twenty years of age, nodded his agreement. The twenty year old, his olive green eyes framed by a thin mustache and beard, pressed the accelerator just enough to keep the Crown Victoria in sight.

"Well, that was a bust," sighed Jen, as she flipped back through her notes.

Jason smiled, "Come on Jen, she just stepped out for a little while."

She looked over at him. "I'm worried Jason. She may be dead. That woman may have been part of the terrorist cell and killed her."

The pace of the traffic allowed Jason a quick glance at her. "Come on Jen, don't jump to conclusions. We'll talk to her. She may not have even realized what was in the book."

Kazir watched the lawyer's car. All they had to do was keep it in sight until they reached Falls Church. Once they entered the city limits, Hammad would take over. When they had disposed of these meddling lawyers, then they could get back to their original mission.

1528 Local [Romeo]

174 Stovall Street

Falls Church, VA

Hammad watched from the roof parapet as the JAG Ford Crown Victoria LTD slowed, cautiously approaching the intersection. The traffic signal on their side had just turned red.

He looked at the other man, Kamahad, fingering the RPG's trigger. Giving a silent nod to the man, Hammad watched as Kamahad carefully slid the grenade and its attached launcher over the edge of the roof parapet. Hammad looked over at the roof on the opposite side of the street and saw that the second RPG fire team was also getting ready to fire.

The utility department panel van parked at the next intersection looked as if it was on a service call. A uniformed man carrying a tool bag had hurried into the office building. Inside the darkened van, the rest of Hammad's first squad nervously awaited the signal to open fire with their PK heavy machinegun. The back doors of the van were barely ajar.

Jason turned and smiled at Jen as they waited at the intersection. The traffic headed through, moving at a leisurely pace.

Pete and Jim sat silently in the back of the car. Gadsden noted Tiner's smile and silently indicated to his partner to look at the two Petty Officers up front. Bauer did so and gave his partner a wry smile while shaking his head.

Late model cars, minivans, a couple of taxis, a few delivery trucks continued to move through the intersection. Jen returned Jason's smile then looked down at her notes from her meeting with Ms. Dodge.

The light seemed to stay red forever. Jim rolled his eyes and sighed, turning around in his seat for a change in scenery, he noted the red Ford Expedition two cars back. Between him and the red SUV were a Toyota Avalon and a Ford Escape.

Traffic continued to move through the intersection unconcerned about the men perched on the roof, or the oddly parked service van.

Hammad's second squad sat inside the Expedition enduring heavy mid-day traffic. They were not concerned with the slow moving pace. It gave them extra time to say their final prayers and surreptitiously recheck their assault rifles and hand grenades. To everyone in the vicinity, they looked like a group of college students headed back to their dorm.

The light finally turned green. Jason saw the service van up ahead in the road. He flipped on his turn signal so that he could move into adjacent lane and bypass the obstacle. As he started his maneuver, a Falls Church patrol car, which had been hidden by a moving truck, rolled past the JAG sedan, with his emergency lights flashing.

Jen looked up and the Corporals turned their attention toward the front window of the car when they heard the chirp of the police car's siren. "What going on-" began Jennifer, as the cruiser flashed past them and rolled to stop behind the van.

Jason's eyes narrowed.

"Something's not right…." Corporal Gadsden started to tell Tiner he had a bad feeling about that van and that they should get out of here.

Hammad moved his hand in a chopping motion.

"Hang on everyone!" barked Jason as he gunned the Ford's engine. The sedan, its back tires smoking, jumped through the intersection. The scream of the tortured tires was lost as the back doors of the 'service' van opened and the PK machinegun began firing. Riddling the police cruiser, it instantly killed the officer who had started walking toward the van. The next moment an RPG round smacked into the bullet-shattered cruiser obliterating it.

"Oh My God!" Jen instinctively ducked down in her seat. Jason bent low over the steering wheel, trying to present as small a target as possible. He tried to remember what else he had been taught during the evasive maneuvers driving course at the anti-terrorist training school.

"Stay down!" ordered Jason as he zigged their vehicle through the stalling traffic. The two Marine security officers un-holstered their 9mm automatic pistols. As Pete Bauer cranked down his window, Jim Gadsden began firing at the service van as they roared past. Pete began scanning the chaotic scene for the enemy. Jim remembered the red Ford SUV two car lengths back and looked out the back window. The Ford was in pursuit, weaving in and out of the stalled and bullet riddled cars and trucks.

"They're behind us!" shouted Gadsden.

"Ford Expedition! Six o'clock!" barked Bauer as he turned and saw what his partner had seen - the wildly zig-zagging SUV. "You get us back to JAG Tiner! We'll keep these guys off balance!"

Hammad quickly assessed the damage to his plan. The first squad had missed their target, killing a stupid American law enforcement officer that had foolishly tried to intervene. He grabbed his hand radio and barked orders at the second squad, as he watched the Expedition shove its way past a burning Volkswagen Tureg, intent on following the fleeing JAG sedan.

Ignoring the traffic signal at the next intersection, Jason roared through. Cars, trucks and SUVs screeched to halt, skidding sideways in some cases to avoid colliding with what looked like an out of control sedan with maniac for a driver. A couple cars slammed into each other, trying to avoid the speeding dark blue sedan with a red SUV in pursuit. The Expedition smashed a badly damaged black Chevy SUT out of its way.

Jason looked up. They were almost there; only one more block…he could see the familiar red brick and white trim of the Headquarters of the Judge Advocate General.

Jim Gadsden and Pete Bauer let loose with a volley of rounds, hoping to deter the Expedition from following.

-TBC…


	35. Chapter 34

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 34

1514 Local [Romeo]

JAG Headquarters, Courtroom One

200 Stovall Street

Falls Church, Virginia

"Very well, I'll grant fifteen minute recess counselors. Court will reconvene in ten minutes." As Admiral Morris banged his gavel, Carly stood up and looked at the still seated Commander Burford.

"Excuse me," she said as she hurried out of the room.

Carolyn glanced over at Alan and John.

John only glimpsed at her for a moment until he got up, pushed his way through the crowd at the back of the room, and rushed to catch up with the Major. Alan looked over at Carolyn with questioning eyebrows. The red haired Navy Commander shrugged her shoulders and sighed at his unspoken question. Alan sat back in his chair sighing as well.

Carly walked briskly down the hall and into the ladies room. Commander Burford got there just as the door closed.

John looked around uncertain what to do, then made up his mind and rapped on the lavatory door. "Major? ...Carly? … It's me, John, can we talk?"

Carly had walked over to the sinks and stood facing the mirror. She bowed her head over the white porcelain sink. Two teardrops fell in, mixing with the left over water beads from someone's previous use.

"I'm *not* going to stand here and cry like a baby!" she hissed fiercely to herself. She raised her head and angrily wiped away the moisture from around her eyes.

The anger and hurt Major Carly Clemons felt right now was so white hot it was almost unbearable. She had promised herself this wouldn't happen again, and yet here she was in the ladies bathroom crying her eyes out.

John had managed to make his point, make her look like a fool, and yet deep down she was beginning to suspect he was right. It stoked a feeling of respect, maybe something more, and that made her even angrier. (Damn him!).

"Carly, please open the door, let's talk."

(Go to hell) she thought "I have nothing to say to you Commander," Carly said firmly while drying her eyes. She tried to put some steel back in her voice.

Okay, he had ripped her and Carolyn's defense of Staff Sergeant Jake Hilton, but she'd be damned if he won this one. "This is for Ross," she said as she dabbed away the last of her tears and began to touch up her makeup.

Hilton admitted to Carly and Carolyn that he had thought about killing Stacie Keller, but he never acted on it. When asked about the sniper rifle, Hilton vehemently denied he had taken it out of the trunk, but since he had been drunk most of the evening, he didn't remember what had happened.

She thought that they had come up with a good defense…emphasizing reports that an MP had found him passed out in the car earlier in the evening and the same MP had reported seeing him in the car about the time he was supposedly killing Stacie Keller.

This information, combined with evidence that the Senator's daughter was a recreational drug user, seemed to tie up all the loose ends. Especially because she owed her supplier some big money and she had a torrid on again off again love affair with the man. It didn't hurt Hilton's case that the drug dealer tended to slap her around for fun.

But then John brought up the Staff Sergeant's need for revenge for what he considered a personal affront and the embarrassment she had caused him. Somehow he and Alan also were able to dig up some early unsavory FITREPS that didn't bode well for his defense.

Carly was painfully reminded of John's ripping up Ross Siebert's reputation during the Staff Sergeant's trial. It was almost unbearable when the good Commander got Hilton to admit he really didn't have an alibi! This despite what she and Carolyn had told him to say. The kicker came when Stacie Keller's supplier appeared to have an airtight alibi.

Carolyn told her not to give up yet, but John seemed so sure of himself, and it did look bad for Jake Hilton…it also pointed out to her that maybe, just maybe Ross had been guilty!

Her mind tossed these ideas back and forth, making her alternate between anger and regret.

As she started toward the door, her mind flashed to the supplier's cufflinks on his expensive dress shirt as he sat on the witness stand. That design was a mirror image of the imprint found pressed in the dirt next to the murder scene!

"By God, I've got him!" Carly was smiling as she pulled on the door handle. That's when the rumble of an explosion filled the air of the bathroom. It sounded like it came from the courtyard.

1518 Local [Romeo]

Alan and Carolyn were sitting quietly in the courtroom reviewing their case notes. Admiral Morris had just gone back down to his office for a moment. Jake Hilton had requested a bathroom break so he and his attendant guard had gone down the hall. The witnesses and those watching the case had gone out to make phone calls, take a smoke break, or grab a quick coffee or a bite to eat, so they were alone in the courtroom.

Alan sat at his table looking through his notes for where to hit Carolyn's defense next. Smiling broadly he put them down and cut a quick glance at the Commander. "Ready to make a deal? Want to plea bargain before it's too late?"

Carolyn looked over at him, shaking her head and smirking. "Not on your life Alan, you should know better than that." Then she paused, looking over her reading glasses at him. "Now if you're willing to admit you don't have a case Counselor, I might be interested." Her green eyes sparkled mischievously.

His smile grew wider. "Hey, just trying to help you save face, Commander. Your client's going down."

She gave him a deadpan look. "If you mean by 'down' he's going down to the Naval Yard, he just might do that after this trial is over, that is, if that's his next duty station."

"Cute Carolyn, but it won't happen,"

"Oh?" she said coyly as she pushed her reading glassed back up the bridge of her nose, "and why is that?" She made a mental note to herself to get that strap tightened the next day she had off. Carolyn loved this give and take with Alan. They had become such good friends while stationed in Italy together. She knew exactly what buttons to push to get the desired response. Just to irritate him, she began to dig in her briefcase, pretending to look for something that was more important than this conversation.

Her action had the desired effect. He got huffy. He hated being ignored, especially by her. He could deal with it when Mac or Harm or even Bud or Sturgis did this, but not her. "Your client's guilty." Alan said confidently, trying to bait her.

It worked. She stopped pawing through her papers and looked up at him. "Do you have some secret knowledge that I don't?"

He loved it when he got her attention. It was not that he had any romantic feelings for her; it was just that they were the low JAG attorneys on Chegwidden's totem pole, and he liked the way they worked together. Underdogs of a sort. He smiled broadly. "John got your client to admit he didn't have an alibi. It's only a matter of time. Face it, you *need* my help."

She turned in her seat and faced him. "When I need *your help*, I'll let you know." She stood up and gave him an irritated look. "Admitting you don't have an alibi isn't the same as an admission of guilt; he was being honest rather than trying to lie."

Alan continued grinning, "Somehow I doubt that. C'mon Carolyn…."

If she had been made of lesser stuff, Commander Imes might have blown her top. Instead she merely gave him her best stone faced lawyer look. "Sorry Counselor, having an argument with a girlfriend does not equate to murder. When you have something more solid, we'll talk."

"Last chance…." His voice indicating he was still willing to deal.

Carolyn Imes shook her head. "I'll stick with what I have. So, 'go fish'"

He started to get up from his chair. "Carolyn-"

Both stopped in mid action and stood at attention as Judge Rear Admiral Stiles Morris walked back into the room and took his seat at the bench. He looked over at the two JAG attorneys. "Commanders are we about ready to begin?" he inquired.

"Yes your Honor, as soon as my co-counsel comes back," replied Carolyn evenly.

The austere judge looked over at Alan.

"Commander Mattoni, we *are* going to be ready to start in a few minutes, aren't we?"

"Yes your Honor," he quickly replied, "my co-counsel just stepped out for a minute, he should be back at any moment." In reality he didn't know where John had gone. The last time he saw him the man had headed out after Major Clemons when she exited the room.

Judge Morris didn't know whether to believe these two or not. Like most of Chegwidden's lawyers, these two were just as cagey as the ones now in Mirbullah. (these two could be stalling for time) he thought disgustedly. Stiles Morris hated anything that disrupted his schedule, especially stalling tactics. He decided to let them know this wouldn't work.

"Very well Counselors," he replied dryly as he began to scribble a quick note. When he finished, he pierced both of them with a harsh look. "but I remind both of you that this is a fifteen minute recess. If your co-counsels are not back in time, we *will* proceed without them, understood?"

"Yes your Honor," the two navy lawyers replied soberly.

Morris turned as one of the court officers came back into the room. The man looked up, mortified that he had not arrived before the judge. "Your Honor," he began, hoping to explain his way out of this one. He did not want to face Chegwidden's wrath or that of Gunny Brewer's.

For the moment, Stiles was not concerned about this breach in protocol. "Corporal, take this note down to Commander Helfman in the judge's chambers please. We still have a few minutes yet before we start up again, so hurry."

The man took the folded piece of paper handed to him. Secretly he was relieved that the Admiral wasn't angry. "Aye Sir," However in the back of the man's mind he wondered if Admiral would still report what had happened.

As the Corporal headed toward the courtroom doors, Morris looked over at the two naval Commanders and opened his mouth to give them another piece of advice. His comments were cut short as a storm of automatic fire smashed through the windows of the courtroom, sending shards to glass skittering across the room. The Admiral and the two Commanders along with the Marine guard and one other that had started to come back into the courtroom dove for the floor.

1522 Local [Romeo]

190 Stovall Street

The ZNN satellite van pulled to stop by the curb. As the film crew got out and set up their equipment, ZNN reporter Pam Somers got out of her car and walked over to where the film crew was setting up.

"Can I help?" she asked honestly.

The sound engineer smiled. She was one of the few field reporters that wasn't a prima donna of one sort or another. "Sure Pam," he said casually, "there are some extension cables in the van, can you get them?"

"On it," she said brightly as she headed over to the truck. As she pulled the cables out,

Pam conversed lightly with the other technician in the truck.

In a few moments, they were ready. The cameraman shouldered his mini-cam and tested the distance between them. Pam was brushing her hair, and put a clip in to keep it from falling into her face at an inopportune moment.

"Okay Pam," said the sound engineer, "mike check, testing one, two…."

Pam had just finished inserting her ear phone so that she could hear the sound engineer's directions. She nodded that she heard him. The cameraman marked his spot, walked over and handed her a clip mike.

Pam took the mike clipped it to her blue blazer, making sure it did not get caught in her strawberry blond hair. She cleared her throat as the cameraman got back to his spot and turned on the mini-cam, focusing the lens and his spot lamp on her.

Pam looked into the camera. "We ready? In five, four…Washington DC is known for its power politics, but even here, within sight of the Capitol-"

"Cut," snapped the sound engineer. Pam blew out a frustrated breath at this interruption. The man knew her schedule but he wanted this report to look good; even if it was a fluff piece. Besides, the better the piece looked, the better it made her look.

"Pam," he said quickly trying to soften his earlier snap, "wouldn't it sound better to say 'but even here, only minutes from the Capitol?'"

Pam glanced at him, irritation still lacing her pretty features. "Okay Ken," she agreed reluctantly, "how about 'within the shadow of the Capitol', instead? I could do that, 'only minutes' sounds like a travelogue."

"Okay Pam," he said soothingly, "you're right; that does sound better." Ken looked over at the cameraman again. "Okay, once more, in five, four, three…."

Pam rolled her shoulders and straightened her paisley scarf tied loosely around her neck. She looked into the camera again. "Washington is known for its power politics, but even here within the shadow of the Capitol-"

The chirp of the police cruiser's siren ruined everything.

"Damn," swore Ken. Pam instinctively looked over toward the sound.

"Pam let's-"

His words were lost as a car revved its engine and roared through an intersection down the street, obviously ignoring the fact it was going through an intersection at the wrong time.

The shriek of tires and blaring of horns was only momentary as that was quickly followed by the rhythmic staccato of machine gun fire and unmistakable whoosh of a rocket launcher.

"What the hell?" Ken took off his microphone and ran into the camera's view toward Pam. She was looking back toward the source of the sound when her hand went to her mouth. The camera swung off her and down the street toward the unmistakable sounds of battle.

Stovall Street

"Tiner!" barked Gadsden.

"Hang on!" yelled Jason yanking the steering wheel over as far to the right as it would go. Another rocket propelled grenade round smacked into a wall opposite the speeding sedan, sending bricks and concrete dust into the air as the rocket grenade holed it and detonated on the other side. The car fishtailed wildly as Jason fought hard to get it back under control.

He took a quick look at his passengers. "I don't know how much longer I can side-step these incoming RPG rounds!"

"Do your best Tiner!" replied Bauer as he steadied his aim and let off another three rounds out of the shattered back windscreen. "We'll keep the Expedition from getting any closer!"

Jen sat up for a moment and looked out the back window. The red Ford SUV swerved to miss another stalled car in its path. To make up the lost ground, the Expedition gunned its engine.

JAG Headquarters

AJ's head snapped around when he heard the explosion. With movements born of his SEAL training, the Admiral was out of his chair and headed to his window, followed close behind by the CIA Agent. It only took a moment to see the greasy dark cloud rising a few blocks away. The sound of automatic fire galvanized AJ and Clayton Webb into action. Both men dove for the floor as rounds ripped through the Venetian blinds and the wooden framing, propelling bits of glass, shards of torn blinds, and splinters of wood across the length of the room. Several picture frames and plaques on the wall opposite the windows exploded.

Smoke and dust from the shattered furnishings floated through the air as both men took advantage of the sudden quiet to make a dash for the bullpen.

"Lieutenant!" Barked the Admiral as he and CIA man came bolting out of the office, "CALL the armory and tell them to begin issuing arms and ammunition to all personnel!"

Though the bullpen itself did not have any open windows, the lawyers' offices did. As AJ and Clayton entered the bullpen though, it was clear the area was far from well protected. Bullets from outside shattered glass inside the offices and were little disturbed from their flight paths, as they smashed through the doors and windows of the offices. JAG Corps personnel were sent diving for the floor as CPU's, computer monitors, and telephones in the room, exploded from the impact of stray rounds. A few of the sailors and soldiers were not quick enough and lay sprawled, bleeding, across the bullpen floor.

At least two of the five television monitors which were always displaying news feeds and information from the Armed Forces network were destroyed. Several of the ubiquitous thick tan law books which were usually found perfectly lining the shelves ready for use, had been hit, knocking them off the shelves and in some cases, tearing them apart, scattering torn and loose pages around the room. Overhead, light fixtures sputtered and crackled, sending showers of sparks onto the floor. Some of the staff were moving and moaning, others were very still. Papers fluttering about ignited into isolated fires completing the hellish scene.

AJ and the CIA Agent ran past a crouching Harriet who had begun punching numbers into her still intact phone. She only paused for a moment before she began yelling above the renewed gunfire.

"ARMORY! THIS IS LIEUTENANT SIMS! BEGIN ISSUING RIFLES AND SIDEARMS WITH LIVE AMMUNITION TO ALL PERSONNEL! ORDERS FROM ADMIRAL CHEGWIDDEN! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!"

AJ glimpsed her talking to the staff in the armory. He looked back at her over his shoulder as he headed for the closest stairwell. "LIEUTENANT! Lock Down this facility at once! Have the security COMPANY meet me out front! And call THE Pentagon and tell them we are at threatcon alpha one! JAG CORPS Headquarters is under attack!"

200 Stovall Street

JAG Headquarters Main Gate

A hail of automatic rifle fire shattered the windows in the Crown Victoria as Jason slammed on the brakes, slewing the car sideways. Grabbing Jen and reaching over for the door, he opened it and shoved her prone body out onto the pavement. He quickly followed her out on that side of the car out of sight of the pursuing Expedition.

They sat behind the tires with Corporals Pete Bauer and Jim Gadsden, who had also bailed out of the disabled sedan on the same side, and had now positioned themselves by the car's engine. They continued to empty their 9mm pistols into the speeding Expedition that was bearing down on them.

The front windshield of the red SUV starred, bullet holes blossoming across its entire length. The young driver jerked and strained as rounds bounced off his bulletproof vest but slammed into his head and neck. He grunted, his head thrown back by the nine millimeter impacts. With his dying breath, he yanked the SUV's steering wheel hard to the left.

Kazir grunted as well, trying to staunch the flow of blood from his shattered arms. He barely noticed the pain from the bullet that had grazed his ear.

The remaining men from the Ford SUV, took positions and aimed their AK-74 and RPK rifles at the dark blue sedan which was now sitting sideways in the middle of the street. They all opened fire simultaneously, blowing large holes in the chassis of the JAG sedan causing the hood and trunk lids to detach and slap up and down as bullets impacted against them.

The storm of automatic rifle fire caused the two JAG security officers to drop behind the car for protection. Jen and Jason tried to make themselves as small a target as possible as rounds whizzed all around them.

Anson was headed down the florescent lit hallway back toward his office when he heard the gunfire and explosions. One sounded particularly close. He turned toward the sound of the blast and broke into a run. In one fluid motion, he pulled his service pistol from his holster, shoved in a clip from his waist bandolier into the weapon.

As he did this, his radio crackled to life.

"Gunny this is Sergeant Ramirez!"

Anson put his pistol back into his holster and stopped in the middle of the empty hallway. "Ramirez! What the devil's going on out there!"

The senior guard's normally placid voice was strident. "One of our sedans is taking fire! Six men with automatic rifles and hand grenades! We're also under sniper and RPG attack from nearby buildings!"

"Hang tough Ramirez! I'll alert the Cap'n and send a squad your way!"

"Aye Sir! Ramirez out!"

Gunny Brewster changed frequencies on his radio.

"Captain! This is Gunny Brewster! Come in!"

Static. Another explosion ripped through the air. This one was much closer than the last one.

"Cap'n! This is Brewster!"

"Sergeant Sheetz here Gunny!"

Anson was dumbfounded. Where was the Captain? This was his personal radio …for a crazy moment the JAG Corps Gunny thought this might be part of that anti-terrorism exercise. That's why Jimenez wasn't answering. (But training exercises have strict rules about live ammunition use…especially the use of RPGs…) the logical part of his mind argued back.

"Sheetz! Where the hell is the Captain?"

"Unknown Gunny!" Anson's blood chilled. In his mind's eye he could see the man, officially known as the Office of the JAG Security Manager, sitting in his burning car or sprawled on the pavement of the parking lot. What's the first rule of terrorism? Chaos…sever command and control.

"SERGEANT! GATHER ALL AVAILABLE SECURITY OFFICERS AND SET UP A PERIMETER DEFENSE AROUND THE BUILDING! DON'T LET THESE GUYS FLANK YOU OR THE GUARD SHACK OR WE'VE HAD IT! DO YOU READ ME MARINE?"

The response was automatic and pure Marine.

"AYE! AYE GUNNY!"

The radio clicked off. Anson Brewster pulled out his pistol and cocked it, but left the safety on for the moment. He began running down the hallway again as the automatic weapons fire increased in intensity.

Victor heard the twin RPG explosions and the sound of pistol and automatic rifle fire growing closer. He began sprinting back toward the JAG armory. When he arrived, he saw a pale Corporal Chang standing there as if frozen.

As soon as the man saw Gunny Galindez, he began pulling at his pistol holster.

"CORPORAL!" Barked Victor, "HAND ME THAT ASSAULT RIFLE!"

Chang stopped what he was doing and numbly complied, handing the man an M-16A2 rifle.

"AMMUNITION!"

The boxes were passed to Victor who ripped one of them open, took a clip and slapped it into the assault rifle. The others he shoved into his pants pockets.

Leaving the weapon on safety for the moment, he turned away from the stunned Corporal and headed down the hallway toward the south stairwell and away from the sound of the developing battle.

Staff Sergeant Jake Hilton had just finished uncuffing himself from his dead guard. The man had caught two rounds in the chest as they passed an open window. The Staff Sergeant had felt for a pulse and found none, before digging in the man's breast pocket for the keys to these manacles.

No one would ever believe his story '…we were walking back toward the courtroom when my guard was hit by stray bullets from the outside, and killed immediately. I couldn't just stay handcuffed to him….'

Yeah right, sure, they'll believe that happened, why wouldn't they? Maybe because I'm on trial for murder? He laughed at the irony of the situation.

Jake Hilton started to get up when he heard a familiar voice float down the hall between the stuttering of automatic fire.

"C'mon Dixie," said the anxious voice "The Staff Sergeant's probably dead by now and those terrorists are going to overrun this place at any moment!"

He recognized that voice. It was the drug dealer that had just testified about his guilt.

But who was Dixie?

"You go on Joe," she said brusquely, "I've got to make sure he's dead." Jake froze. It was Seaman Hurtado! Why did she want him dead? It didn't make any sense.

"Suit yourself," called out Joe as he ran down the hall away from him, "You're on your own, lady!"

Sergeant Ramirez and Corporal Burkett ducked as shrapnel from an exploding Jeep Cherokee sailed past their thin guard shack. Bullets of various calibers whizzed and zipped above their heads like angry bees.

"CORPORAL!" Yelled the Sergeant, "GET READY TO RETURN FIRE WHEN I SAY SO!"

AYE SARGE!

Ramirez scanned for wounded civilians and military personnel among the flaming wreckage and bullet riddled vehicles.

She could see Bauer and Gadsden, their weapons ready, crouched behind the steel and fiberglass cover of the JAG sedan. All four tires hand been holed and rounds passed through the right side doors as if passing through paper.

Cassandra could also see Jason Tiner and Jennifer Coates moving into crouching positions behind the flattened tires. They were also getting ready to return fire.

Gunfire from the Expedition was almost constant now.

"CAN YOU SEE THEM MA'AM?"

"THEY'RE GETTING READY TO RETURN FIRE CORPORAL! PICK YOUR TARGETS!" Cassie readied her weapon when the group behind the sedan started to stand.

"AYE! AYE MA'AM!"

"NOW! SEMI-AUTO!"

As the rattle of M-16 fire opened up behind them, Jen looked pensively over at Jason.

Jason nodded at Pete. The fire from the SUV had lifted momentarily. The two Petty Officers and the two Corporals stood up and brought their weapons to bear, opening up on the Expedition.

1532 Local [Romeo]

NCIS Headquarters

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs sat in his cubicle trying to figure out how he had lost his desktop icons, again. All he had done was erased one little file and now the computer acted as if it had glue gumming it up. He missed hunting and pecking on a Selectric typewriter. At least he could always figure out what was wrong with it.

His second in command, Tony DiNozzo, a former Baltimore PD Homicide detective, had been watching the ZNN Late Afternoon Live! update on his computer. It was not so much that he was a news hound; it was the fact that the afternoon anchor was a major babe. Young, blonde, and hot. Everything Tony liked in a girl. Then the image on his screen changed dramatically.

"Boss, I think you ought to see this…."

Leroy Jethro Gibbs looked up, annoyed at this man's interruption. "What is it DiNozzo? I'm not in the mood for-"

Tony hit a button transferring the live feed from his computer to the bullpen viewing screen. "On the viewing screen, Boss," said Tony unnecessarily. The viewer/projector flashed images of the shattered and burning cars in the parking lot of the bullet riddled JAG Corps Headquarters.

The rattle of automatic fire could be heard being punctuated by the occasional report of automatic pistols and the distinctive crack of rifles. In the upper left hand corner the word 'LIVE' glowed hauntingly, while in the lower right hand corner was the standard ZNN logo.

The blonde's normally matter-of-fact voice sounded…terror stricken.

"What you are seeing are live pictures of what appears to be a terrorist assault on the Headquarters of the Judge Advocate General's offices in Falls Church. Our own Pam Somers was in the area on another assignment when the terrorists – and we want to stress these are unconfirmed reports – as many as twenty, may be assaulting the JAG Corps compound."

Special Agent Gibbs got to his feet but remained silent as his brain tried to process what was going on. Tony stood looking at the screen as if in a trance.

"…the attack began a little before 3:30 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time. We're now going to try to make contact with Pam Somers who is only a block from the fighting. Pam, can you hear us? Are you all right? What is the current situation?"

It took less than a minute for the former Gunnery Sergeant's Marine training to kick in. "Get your weapon." He said tersely as he grabbed his Beretta 92F out of his desk drawer and slapped a clip into it.

One of the enlisted Marines who had been down the hall came back into the room, looked up at the carnage and gave voice to everyone's thoughts in the room. "What the hell is happening?"

Gibb's second in command swiftly grabbed his pistol out of his desk drawer and cocked it as he turned to join his silver haired team leader.

At that moment, NCIS Director Tom Morrow came down the stairs out of the Multiple Threat Assessment Center Videoconference room.

"Gibbs, I just got off the phone with the Pentagon. As of this moment, we are the closest military asset to Falls Church. We are to form a special response team to help try and break through to JAG Corps Headquarters." He looked over at Chris Pacci who stood rooted to his spot in front of his desk. "Special Agent Pacci, use the Videoconference room and call Norfolk and tell them we need their closest amphibious assault ship to send their fleet anti-terrorist team." The man nodded and headed up the stairs past the Director.

The old man turned back to Gibbs. "I'm calling the White House and telling them what we know at this point. The FBI has their counter-terrorist team and hostage response teams en-route." The man started to turn, then put his hand on the former Gunnery Sergeant's shoulder. For Director Morrow to do this and look Gibbs in the eyes spoke volumes. "Be careful Gibbs."

Gibbs understood the emotion behind the simple gesture. "I will Sir." Senior Special Agent looked at his second in command. "Let's roll!"

"Comin' Boss," replied Tony. As the former police detective headed after his boss, he stopped and looked at the group of agents, Marines, and Navy personnel in MTAC, still staring at the ZNN report flashing on the screen.

"You can stand there all day with your mouths hanging open, but that isn't going to stop those bad guys! Now if you want to do something constructive rather than standing around like zombies you can join me and Special Agent Gibbs or you can continue to stand around! Now which is it?"

"DINOZZO!" bellowed Gibbs from far down the hallway. Tony flinched and began running to catch up with his boss.

This spurred the remaining agents and military personnel in MTAC into action. Grabbing their side arms and bulletproof vests, they headed for the garage at NCIS Headquarters.

Bullets whacked and pinged off the sturdy SUV. A side mirror exploded and the side windows first starred and then exploded under the relentless fusillade.

Kazir, his bloody arms wrapped in rags hissed in anger at his men cowering under the heavy fire coming from these lawyers! He stood up and motioned to them. "GET UP YOU FOOLS!" He barked, "RETURN FIRE! WE-"

Kazir al Azzan dropped to the pavement and did not move. Blood pooled around the leader of Hammad's second squad. Kazir's men looked in shock at their obviously dead commander. Then as one, they moved into position to return the lawyers' gunfire.

"I GOT ONE OF THEM!" announced Jim.

"KEEP FIRING!" admonished Pete as he continued to fire at the badly holed SUV.

"I'M DRY!" said Tiner as he ducked back down.

"ME TOO!" said Jennifer as she too ducked back down behind their sedan.

As both dropped to the ground and grabbed for another ammunition clip from their belts as the roar of automatic fire from the RPKs and AK-74s made both flinch.

Pete dropped behind the questionable cover of the sedan's front near the engine.

Jim Gadsden, however, was not quick enough. He grunted as he dropped to the ground beside his partner. His Beretta automatic pistol fell out of his hands and clattered on the asphalt.

"CORPORAL GADSDEN!" Screamed Jen.

Pete gave his partner a quick glance and saw the man was beyond help.

"COATES! TINER! ON MY MARK! SUSTAINED GRAZING FIRE!"

Jason nodded and both he and Pete Bauer got up in a squatting position, getting ready to fire. Jen tore her tear stained eyes off the dead JAG security officer and got into a squatting position herself. As she did, she slapped another clip in and cocked her weapon.

Jake Hilton pressed himself into the corner. He knew Anne Hurtado was headed his way and once she found the body of the dead guard, she'd know he had escaped.

Seaman Anne 'Dixie' Hurtado stopped when she saw the body of the guard splayed crossways in the hall.

"Ah Jake," she sighed, sounding happy rather than sad. "That was a really dumb mistake to make, Sarge."

Jake didn't dare look around the corner for fear she might be standing right by it.

"Now why didn't you take the guard's gun?" she mused aloud to herself. Truthfully, Jake didn't want it. It was bad enough he had escaped custody. "Oh well, too bad for you Sargie, 'cause now I get to extract a little sweet revenge and be rewarded for it."

(Sweet revenge?) Jake racked his brain trying to figure out how this sweet kid had hidden her amoral, sadistic side. And more importantly, why was she so gleeful about getting the chance to kill him?

Now was not the time to ponder these deep thoughts. It was obvious she was trying to kill him and then make it look like she had stopped a dangerously deranged criminal or at least that she had killed him in self defense. The Staff Sergeant moved quietly down the hall and slipped into the JAG legal library.

Anne heard the door around the corner click shut. She smiled malevolently, "Staff Sergeant," she called out, "you have to surrender; please it's me, Anne."

Jake stole over into the legal reference book shelving area. He now knew the malice that lay beneath that innocent sounding phrase. It was the beginning of a setup.

"Sergeant Hilton? Please, you have to surrender." Jake knew she had flipped off the safety.

The Staff Sergeant pushed against the shelf, damn! Bolted to the wall. But the books weren't….

Anne Hurtado could faintly hear the automatic rifle and pistol fire outside. Jake was in here, somewhere, once she killed him, she'd be home free—

Anne looked up to see an avalanche of books headed for her. The last thing she felt before everything went black was three heavy books hitting her in quick succession.

Anson Brewster skidded to a stop as he looked down the hall and saw four men armed with assault rifles and bandoliers of ammunition coming out of a "mouse hole" headed away him into the south stairwell. These weren't Army Special Forces types. He remembered from reading the reports about Flight 93 that the red bandanas they were wearing indicated they considered themselves to be martyrs – a suicide squad. He was one man against four.

Alan, nursing several glass induced gashes in his arm, looked over at Carolyn's prone form. Her white dress uniform was spattered with blood – her blood. She did not move. He was about to say something to her when another explosion rattled the courtroom.

"Carolyn! Carolyn! Are you okay?" She didn't respond. Alan, ignoring the pain from his lacerated arms, pulled the silent Commander closer so that he could check her injuries. He did a quick check of her extremities. Next he checked her chest and waist – no bleeding that he could see. Except for some superficial cuts from flying glass, she seemed unharmed.

Alan heard a gurgle and turned toward the sound. He saw of the court officer who had been headed toward the judge's chambers. The Marine guard was slumped by the wall, his sightless eyes focused on them. The courtroom was heavy with the stench of cordite and pulverized debris.

Now Commander Mattoni was aware of the other court guard crawling toward the judge's bench.

"Admiral!" The man called out hoarsely over the roar of the renewed automatic fire. "Admiral! Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine Corporal," replied Judge Morris. "Get everyone out of here that you can, I'll make my way out!"

"Sir!" The man said fiercely, "My job is to protect you!" It was obvious the young non-commissioned officer felt responsible for the Rear Admiral's safety.

Stiles Morris hissed his frustration. "Corporal! *Your job* is to get everyone else out of here!" He saw the man draw back. With everything else that was going on, he knew the court officer was only trying to do his job. "I'll be right behind you, Corporal! Get these people out of here!" The judge would have normally have ended the sentence with 'that's an order!' but he knew he really didn't need to.

"Aye Sir!" the Corporal looked over at Alan.

"Are you hurt bad Commander!"

Another shower of gunfire ripped the windows of the courtroom, smacking into pictures, sturdy wood furniture, plaster walls, and elegant light fixtures on the ceiling and at the desks causing them to explode in showers of sparks. Bullets continued to ricochet through the room, making any movement but low crawling, suicide.

"No," the Navy lawyer replied, ignoring his own wounds, "But my partner-"

The court guard began moving toward him. "Don't worry Sir, we'll get her out of here!"

The two men began to carefully drag the unconscious Carolyn Imes toward the back of the courtroom. Admiral Morris followed the two men.

As they pushed open the damaged double doors to Courtroom One, Commander Imes coughed.

Alan stopped dragging her and leaned over into her face. "Carolyn? Carolyn! It's me, Alan…are you okay?"

"…head hurts…." She mumbled, passing a hand over her closed eyes.

"Your head?" he and the Corporal exchanged confused looks.

"You were wounded in the head Commander?" said Judge Morris as he reached the three.

She moaned. "No…hit head…not very good…combat maneuvers…."

Alan smiled at her joke. She had hit her head on the table and chairs when she had tried to take cover. "Well, none of us are combat soldiers, Carolyn."

Carolyn gave him a sly smile "You…forget…about Mac…and Harm's a hotshot aviator," she giggled, "With a cute six…."

The Corporal looked deeply concerned at that comment.

"We'd better get her to the infirmary Sir, no telling how badly she's hurt,"

Alan and Admiral Morris exchanged wry smiles. "She's not hurt as bad as you might think Corporal," the Admiral replied dryly, "but she should get that bump on the head checked."

As Gibbs sprinted down the hallway toward the NCIS garage, a familiar British accent stopped him.

"Trouble, Jethro?"

"Terrorist attack in progress at JAG, Ducky," said the man as he passed his old friend.

"I'll get my bag," he replied abruptly to the former Gunnery Sergeant, then disappeared into the Morgue.

Tony DiNozzo came running down the hall with a group of agents and military personnel following close behind him. "What's going on, Boss?"

"Ducky's coming with us." stated Gibbs.

"Ducky?" Tony's face screwed up in agitation "He's not combat trained-"

"On the contrary Tony," Dr. Mallard had returned carrying his medical bag. "I served a tour of duty with the Royal Australian Armored Corps at Binh Ba in Vietnam. Why I remember one time, one of the lad's patrols got into a particularly nasty firefight-"

"Save it for later Ducky!" growled Gibbs, "Let's go!"

The three men climbed into the late model Ford Taurus sedan with Gibbs in the driver's seat. Not waiting for the garage door to fully open, he gunned the engine and flew through the opening, barely clearing it. He was immediately followed by two other larger late model Ford sedans as they bolted up the alleyway toward the street.

Anson watched as the four armed men moved stealthily from the "mouse hole" to the stairwell door. Apparently, their aim had been off, otherwise they would have blown their entry into the building in the stairwell, not beside it. He stayed behind them, keeping his distance. He did not want to get too close to them yet. They were looking for something – Anson froze when he heard hurried padding behind him. Damn! He should have known there would be a rear guard!

Anson braced for a knife being pulled across his throat.

"Anson?"

It was Victor Galindez. "Geez, Buddy, I almost killed you!"

"I thought you were going to," Anson quipped nervously, giving his old friend a wink to let him know he was okay.

"Why are you headed this way?" asked Victor "The battle is on the north side of the building."

"Those RPG explosions outside were timed to cover an explosion I heard come from the south side of the building." the JAG Corps security Gunny replied. "Why are you headed this way?"

That was a good question. But the combat veteran had an equally good answer. "All that noise had to be masking a flank or rear assault."

The men exchanged wry graveyard humor grins.

"So, who's up ahead?" asked Victor.

"Four bad guys…all armed to the teeth."

"Probably looking for the stairwell," surmised the former JAG administrative assistant.

"Well, it's a cinch they aren't looking for the records archives."

Victor looked around trying to get his bearings. It had been a few years since he had actually been in the basement and without a schematic he had trouble visualizing the layout. Anson knew what he trying to do. He came up with a plan of attack first.

"Look, I'll take the elevator and you follow'em up the stairwell. We'll catch them in a nutcracker...between you and me," he quickly explained."

"Right." Splitting up was not a good idea he combat instincts told him, but considering the current situation, it sounded as good a plan as any at this point.

"Let's take'em down buddy," said Anson. Victor could tell his friend was eager to get into the action.

As they split up, Gunnery Sergeant Galindez wondered why they didn't just take the elevator up to the Headquarters area and spray the bullpen. (They don't know the actual layout of the building either,) he realized as he moved down the hall toward the stairwell door. (They really are amateurs. Some amateurs,) he thought grimly (No telling how many they've killed so far). He and Anson had to stop them from killing anyone else.

As he started to open the door, he looked back up the hall at Anson who had reached the elevator. "Just like the old days Vic," said the JAG security platoon sergeant in whisper loud enough for Victor to hear.

Victor wondered just how successful this nutcracker operation of theirs would be. "See you topside, Anson." He whispered back.

Victor opened the stairwell door and looked inside. The florescent lights were weak but he could hear the clink and clank of the terrorists' unsecured weapons and ammunition belts as they climbed the stairs. He slowly and carefully made his way over to the stairway landing. Victor slowly climbed the steps, feeling hand along the cool cinder block wall and the white painted metal stairwell railing.

The Admiral and Clayton reached the front doors of the building. Standing on either side of the entrance with their backs to the wall, they saw Carly and John making their way down the hallway to the front door. They motioned to John and Carly to join them. Following close behind was an ad-hoc contingent of heavily armed Marine and Naval personnel.

AJ glanced at the Commander and the Major. "Major! Take your squad and head to the north entrance of the building! Secure the parking lot and set up your defensive positions there!"

"Aye Sir!" was the crisp response. Carly motioned to her assembled group of Marines and Naval personnel and they moved down side hallway toward the north entrance.

"Commander! take your squad and secure the roof! See if you can find out where this gunfire is coming from!"

"Aye Sir!" Commander Burford led his squad to down the hallway away from AJ, Clayton Webb and their makeshift squad.

AJ Chegwidden looked at the rest of the soldiers gathered around him. Normally, they would be file clerks, legalmen, keyboard specialists, IT support staff, and legal support staff. Now like the cooks and musicians caught in the Battle of the Bulge in World War II, they had picked up rifles and pistols to join the fight to defend this US military installation.

They had the numbers, but many had not been in combat before. Though he had tried to keep combat experienced folks on his staff, there were never enough. They were needed elsewhere. He was lucky to have as many on his staff as he did. He looked around at the young men and women looking to him for leadership. He knew deep down that he was sending some of these people to their deaths.

He pushed those morbid thoughts from his mind. He had a job to do. He wasn't going to let a bunch of Islamic fanatics take over his installation! Like that Irish assassin Hemlock that had shot Lieutenant Austin, Corporal Magida, and that Ex-KGB assassin Vasily Rokatov, who had bombed one of his sedans killing Commander Carlton and two of his security officers, they wouldn't get away with this. Before this day was over with, he'd have them all stuffed and mounted in the JAG Corps hallways!

"THE REST OF YOU COME WITH ME AND MR. WEBB!" he barked.

Major Jack McBurney was angry at himself. His super slick sports car was sitting on South Eads with an empty gas tank. It was bad enough he had gotten distracted by trying to figure out how to best help his client, Chief Petty Officer Zelda Feldman. Puzzling over her embezzlement and murder charges had caused him to forget to fill the tank. He never seemed to keep it above the half full level anyway. He just really got into these cases, and keeping his car tank filled was of secondary importance.

The other thing that had distracted him was that his opponent in this case was not Colonel MacKenzie, or Commander Rabb or even Lieutenant Bud Roberts; no, it was none other than Lieutenant Commander Faith Coleman, again. It was like the two of them were tied together by an invisible rope.

Thanks to these annoying things, here he sat on the side of the road. But rather than being overly concerned about that, his mind tried to figure out just why CPO Feldman had killed Ensign Richard Farn. He had been brooding over the case when his car began sputtering and coughing from lack of fuel.

If running out of gas wasn't embarrassing enough, the SUV coming up the road toward him made the Major wish he was anywhere but here.

The white Saturn Vue slowed to a stop and the window rolled down, revealing the stern countenance of Faith Coleman.

She raised an eyebrow when she saw who it was standing by the side of the road. "Don't tell me you ran out of gas?"

"Look I don't have time for this right now," Jack said gruffly, "I have a 3:30 p.m. appointment at NCIS with Agent DiNozzo."

Faith pulled her arm to where she could see her watch better. "You're not going to make it." A thin smile crossed her lips, "I could call triple A for you," she offered.

(Payback for my pummeling of her lawyer skills when she defended Commander Rabb after he was accused of killing Lieutenant Singer,) he thought, (Okay, I deserved that…time to eat crow.)

"Couldn't you just give me a lift?" He was close to pleading.

"Why?" she asked. That thin smile was still there. She had him.

Okay begging wasn't going to work. The Major tried another tactic. "Aren't you headed that way now?"

"Yes."

"Well?"

The Lieutenant Commander sighed. She really didn't want to leave him stranded here. She just wanted to hold his toes to the fire for a little bit for his deconstruction of her lawyer abilities in front of the JAG and Commander Rabb.

"Get in."

She opened the passenger door from her side. Jake McBurney climbed into the SUV and noted the state of cleanliness – you could eat off the floorboards.

"Wow. Clean car," he quipped. He couldn't help it. It was really seriously clean.

"No cracks about the interior of my car Major, or I'll make you jog alongside until we get to NCIS."

"Got it." (And she'd do it too,) he thought as she put her sports utility vehicle into gear.

As they started down the street, Jack pointed at the speeding Ford Taurus headed in the opposite direction. "Isn't that Special Agents Gibbs headed toward us?"

"It is," she stated blandly as Gibbs' car and two other sedans roared past them at high speed. "And Agent DiNozzo and Doctor Mallard are with him."

"Something big is going on," surmised the Major as he looked back at the last sedan receding from view.

"I agree Major, please hold on," Without warning, Faith did a high speed u-turn and went after the group.

"Would you mind giving me a little more warning the next time you're going to do something like that?" grunted an unnerved McBurney as struggled with his seat belt.

"I told you to hold on," replied Commander Coleman neutrally as she continued to chase the NCIS convoy. "You should have put your seatbelt on when you first got in, I always do."

"I'll make a note to do that the next time I ride with you."

The elevator dinged announcing it had reached the first floor in the building. Anson rolled out as soon as the doors slid open. He kept his pistol trained on the hallway. Nothing. He heard some shouts and the sound of gunfire, but no one came down this hallway. The suicide squad had not made it to this floor…yet. He turned himself and pointed the 9mm automatic toward the other end of the hallway. Again nothing. Only silent desks and humming florescent lamps.

Gunny Brewster let out the breath he was holding. Apparently when the attack started, the personnel in legal records had gone downstairs. Hopefully most of them had taken cover with rest of his security team and Sergeant Sheetz…wherever they were right now.

He got to his feet, and sprinted to the end of the hallway, stopping at the south stairway entrance. Carefully, he cracked open the door and peered down the stairwell. He could see the terrorists making their way to the landing, toward him, like unstoppable machines.

Brewster took a deep breath and aimed his pistol down toward them.

"Waqif! Stop! That's far enough!"

Victor raised his rifle as he came around the corner and saw three of the men on the stairs. The fourth was partially obscured by the landing.

"Waqif! Stop!" barked Gunny Galindez, "Drop your weapons!"

"Do it now!" yelled Anson, his finger tightening on the trigger of his automatic. "Drop your weapons!"

The lead gunman, a stocky boy in his late teens, looked nervously at Anson, and then back at his friends. They were trapped.

"Don't move!" yelled Victor as one of the teens started to reach for his AK-74.

Anson was trying to will the kid to lay down his weapon. "Don't do it kid, don't make me shoot you," he warned the stocky one.

"You won't be hurt," said Victor in their native tongue. One or two of the gunmen looked toward Victor as if unsure of their leader's supposedly pure motive.

Victor never knew who fired first. He heard a clack like an ammo belt dropping or a gun being cocked and then "ALLAH AKBAR" being yelled, followed by the staccato roar of the group's AK rifles being discharged. He also heard one or two reports from Anson's nine millimeter as he began firing controlled bursts from his assault rifle.

As if in slow motion, he saw the three closest gunmen fall back down the stairs, dropping their rifles. The weapons clattered and clanked back down to the ground floor landing.

Victor Galindez felt a stinging sensation on his shoulder, but concentrated on shooting the fourth gunman who was still firing at Anson. The teen grunted and slumped down on the stairwell.

Gunny Galindez waved the cordite smoke away from his face as he tried to see up the stairs to where Anson had been standing.

"Anson…Anson? Anson? GUNNY BREWSTER SOUND OFF!"

"No need to shout buddy…" said a weak voice from the top of the stair landing. "I'm still here."

Victor climbed over the bodies of the Islamic gunmen, praying for the best, but fearing the worst, as he made his way up to his old friend.

Gunny Brewster was sitting with his back against the stairwell door, which had been well ventilated by the terrorists' gunfire.

ANSON!

"Looks…like I got…my wish…." Anson Brewster said gasping for breath.

Victor could see the multiple wounds were fatal. He'd seen this before in combat in various places across the world. He never thought he'd be witness to it in a JAG Corps Headquarters stairwell.

Victor moved over beside the security platoon's Gunny. He laid down his weapon and started assessing the man's wounds. "Take it easy Anson; I'll get a Corpsman down here-"

"Don't bullshit me Vic…I know where I got hit…shoulda had two damn flak vests on…." he said through gritted teeth.

Victor held his buddy against his shoulder. "You always were a kidder." The man was dying and there was nothing he could do.

Anson's breaths became more ragged. "Victor? Don't let…them get through…. Forget…about me…I've …had it."

Victor Galindez wasn't ready to give up on his old friend yet. "C'mon Anson, don't you give up on me now. Dammit Anson, don't give up!"

"Not…my decision…Galindez…you're in charge…now…of the…security team…. Stop…those…those…terroristsssssss…." Anson Brewster hissed out his last orders with his dying breath and then became very quiet. A peaceful look filled the man's face.

Victor held his dead friend tight against him. "I promise you buddy, I will." Tears rippled down Galindez's dirty cheeks as his body was wracked with sobs.

150 Stovall Street

Gibbs slammed on the Taurus' brakes making Tony wince. As they climbed out of the sedan, the other two cars screeched to a halt behind them, part of their human cargo fanning out and joining Gibbs, Ducky and Tony and the rest opening their trunks and grabbing bullet proof vests, extra ammunition, assault rifles and shotguns.

As Gibbs was inserting his earpiece and adjusting his radio headset, a heavily armed police officer ran up to him. The former Gunnery Sergeant flipped open his wallet revealing his identification card, "Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS. We're the special response team."

The man nodded, "Right this way, Sir."

The patrolman lead Gibbs, Tony, Ducky and the rest of the NCIS special response team over to several heavily armed officers and detectives who had taken positions behind one of patrol cars.

"Captain, Special Agent Gibbs from NCIS."

Gibbs squatted down next to the lead officer. "Captain Jeff Harkens, Falls Church PD. That's Detective Lieutenant Frank Wallens, and Sergeant Todd Viceroy."

"Lieutenant, Sergeant." said the silver haired agent acknowledging the two local law enforcement officials, "What's the situation, Captain?"

Captain Harkens looked down the street to JAG and then back at Gibbs. "Terrorists tried to ambush a JAG Corps sedan as it was returning to the Welles Headquarters building up the street. They killed one of my officers when he inadvertently uncovered part of the ambush team."

"How many of them are there?" asked Tony earning the man an annoyed glare from the senior Agent.

"There were at least five of them in a Ford Expedition that is now sitting at the entrance to JAG Headquarters. Our Counter Terrorist unit and our SWAT unit has at least two RPG and two sniper teams under surveillance on rooftops of the buildings at the 170, 180, 190 and 200th blocks of Stovall. There's also a van concealing a heavy machine gun near the 180th block. We're estimating at least twenty terrorists, maybe more."

"You're looking at least a company sized unit, Captain," said Gibbs grimly. He could see the man was already doing the math; they were going to need a lot more backup. "What's your plan?"

The Captain looked down the street toward the sounds of battle and then back at Gibbs. "We've got at least a dozen vehicles, cars, trucks, SUVs, trapped between here and the 200th block. My first priority is to get those people, that is whoever is still alive, to safety."

Gibbs nodded. They were flying blind on this one. There wasn't a real defined, precise manual on how to handle a terrorist attack of this nature.

"The other fly in the ointment," continued the Captain, "is that ZNN had a reporter and her unit doing a news piece at 190th block of Stovall."

"We saw them on television," said Tony that earned the man another glare from Gibbs. The former Baltimore police detective knew he'd better not speak up again.

"Captain, if your men can handle the hostage extraction, we'll provide fire support for them as we make our way to JAG Headquarters."

The police Captain nodded at the NCIS agent's suggestion.

Gibbs looked at his mixed group of agents, Marines and sailors. "Braddock, take your team and circle around to the left. Everett, take your team and circle around to the right. We'll meet at JAG Corps Headquarters and move in from the rear of building."

"What about your group Gibbs?" asked Braddock.

"Tony and I will scout Stovall and see how many we're really dealing with." He looked over at Doctor Mallard. "You stay here Ducky."

But the good Doctor was not about to do that. "No Jethro, you need a medic."

Gibbs couldn't argue with his logic. The sounds of automatic rifle fire made this sound like downtown Baghdad, not Northern Virginia.

"Okay," he motioned to the teams, "Let's move!"

"Agent Gibbs!"

Jethro Gibbs turned to see Major McBurney and Lieutenant Commander Faith Coleman headed towards him.

"Can you use another two warm bodies?" asked Jack.

"I know the layout of JAG Headquarters," added Faith. She knew that Gibbs understood her saying that was as good as having any set of blueprints.

The senior NCIS Special Agent motioned 'over here' to them. "Come on!"

As Jack McBurney moved to join Gibbs, Faith stayed back with Ducky. The forensic doctor noticed this.

"Why aren't you going up front with the Major, Commander?"

"I'm protecting you, Doctor Mallard. Besides I'm not a soldier, I'm a lawyer," she replied with cool rational logic.

"Then your services will be very handy if we want to negotiate with them," Ducky said caustically. "Those people dying out there are your co-workers, Commander. I advise you to lose the conscientious objector attitude."

Faith gave the man a piercing glare. "I will do Agent Gibbs more good giving him a correct layout of the building, rather than acting like some gung-ho naval commando. Major McBurney is the one with combat experience." She added trying to soften the 'naval commando' comment.

The good doctor however did not back down. "I rather think Gibbs would appreciate having more of those 'gung-ho naval commandos' as you call them, Commander."

Surprise showed on Lieutenant Commander Coleman's face at the man's emotional intensity. "I'll give it some thought, Doctor." She replied in a not so confident voice.

Jason, Jen, and Pete Bauer assumed firing positions behind the shattered and now burning sedan. The terrorists, taking cover behind their SUV, ducked again when remaining Marine Corporal and the two Petty Officers opened fire. The 9mm bullets smacked and pinged ineffectually into the red Expedition. When all three had emptied their weapons, they hid behind the bullet riddled Crown Victoria, continuing to use it as a shield.

AJ looked at Webb and his mixed squad, wishing he had a SEAL or two with him.

As gunfire continued to crackle around them, Admiral Chegwidden looked back at his beloved installation. The elaborate and detailed clay and concrete pots and walls were now bullet eaten or shattered. The elegant front door lamp lay in shattered ruins in front of the main entrance into the building.

Even the ornate and delicate looking ironworks that had graced the front area of the building were either bent into bizarre shapes or laying scattered and broken on the ground mixed with shards from the bullet riddled brick and concrete façade of the building. Most of the glass windows were gone. The window frames looked naked, with an occasional set of Venetian blinds swaying in and out of the windowless frames.

"Sir?"

It was the youngest Petty Officer, what was his name? AJ thought for a moment…Lewis, that's it.

"We're going to take up defensive positions just beyond the courtyard," he told Lewis and the rest.

"Does that include me, Admiral?"

Chegwidden was momentarily surprised by the Gunnery Sergeant's unexpected but welcome appearance.

"Good to see you Gunny,"

"Likewise, Sir,"

AJ spotted the tell-tale sign that Victor had been grazed by at least one bullet, and then he saw the tears in the corners of the man's brown eyes.

"Are you okay, son?"

"I'm fine Admiral, it's just a scratch," Victor said, not actually answering AJ's real question.

The former SEAL would have pressed the Gunnery Sergeant, but more serious matters had to be dealt with first. "Gunny, you'll lead the rescue and recovery team, we'll advance to the guard shack by bounds." Gunny nodded. AJ turned to a sailor holding the PRC radio. "Seaman! Try to raise the guards and let them know what we plan to do!"

The man fiddled with the military radio for a few anxious moments. He looked up at the Admiral frustration evident on his face.

"I'm trying Sir! They're not answering!"

"Dammit!" He looked over at the CIA Special Agent. The Admiral's options were limited for mounting a counterattack. The security company was scattered around JAG Headquarters, fighting where they stood. A few were with Major Clemons, a few more were with Commander Burford, but Gunny Brewster and Captain Jimenez were no where to be found. Where the devil were they?

He couldn't wait any longer. He looked at Gunny who silently nodded and then at Clayton Webb. He really hated the idea using this spook in any gunfight, much less a full fledged military attack, but he really didn't have any other choice.

"Webb! I hope you've had your pistol refresher training recently!"

Instead of looking stunned or scared, Special Agent Clayton Webb, cocked his 9mm Glock, slamming home a round into the chamber. "Lead the way, Admiral!"

(Well I'll be a son of gun,) thought AJ, (the man's grown a backbone; Mac must've rubbed off on him.)

The mixed squad led by the JAG, A Marine Gunnery Sergeant, and a CIA Agent began to make their way toward the guard shack.

Gibbs motioned to Tony; on a pre-arranged signal, Gibbs would kick open the door opening to the roof. Tony would aim high, and he would aim low. McBurney and Coleman had remained below with Ducky.

The door slammed open, startling the two man RPG team. Before they had a chance to react, the two NCIS agents fired, sending the two terrorists sprawling on the gravel and tarpaper roof.

Tony walked over and examined the two dead men, and shook his head as he looked back at Gibbs.

"Clear," announced the senior NCIS agent. He looked around as he spoke into his headset, "Captain, have your men get those civilians out of this block."

Another RPG round smacked into a nearby Chrysler LaBaron, turning it into an inferno. These RPG gunners were inexperienced, but sooner or later they were going to hit their target.

Jason Tiner looked through the smoky haze of burning vehicles at the front gates and the JAG Corps guard shack. Another 500 feet and they would have been safe inside the compound. Instead, they were using the bullet riddled Crown Victoria for a shield against the automatic rifles of the gunmen who were now in defensive positions on the other side of the Ford Expedition - but who's to say the terrorists wouldn't have followed them right into parking lot? One thing was certain; the longer they stayed here, the more likely they would die here.

Cassie Ramirez used her binoculars to scan the wreckage to their front. That last RPG round had cleared the lot of cars that that had been blocking her vision. Now she could see the Ford staff car sitting sideways just a few hundred feet from the installation entrance. Her heart sank when she saw Corporal Gadsden lying motionless beside the right front side of the car. Beside him crouched Pete Bauer, Jason Tiner and Jennifer Coates. Cassie knew at any moment those three would try to withdraw from their current precarious position and when they did, one, two, or all three would be killed or wounded unless someone covered their escape.

"I SEE THEM!" Sergeant Ramirez barked.

Corporal Burkett strained to see through the smoke. "WHERE MA'AM?"

"TWELVE O'CLOCK! 17 YARDS! COVER FIRE!"

Both Cassie and John opened up, hoping their aim was high enough not to hit Tiner, Coates or Bauer.

Carly and her squad weaving in and out of what few concrete and wrought iron tables were left intact, made their way around the shattered brick and decorative masonry wall in the JAG Corps courtyard. Carly quickly decided the most defensible position was the ornate masonry wall in front of the north side of the JAG Corps building. It would also allow them to check on Sergeant Ramirez, and draw a bead on the RPG teams firing into the JAG Corps' attorney parking area. Beyond those ruined vehicles, including her, Mercedes CLK was a row of oak, pine and maple trees. Beyond that was what remained of the visitor parking lot.

"SQUAD! DEPLOY SKIRMISH LINE! MARK YOUR FIRING LANES!"

Major Clemmon's squad, half Navy and half Marine, did as it was told. She had three naval file clerks, one of the court officers, two motor pool mechanics, two navy legalmen, one JAG staff assistant, one Marine file clerk, and two of Jimenez's men. The security platoon soldiers and Marine file clerk cleared their lanes first. The Major nodded to the file clerk, he was the closest thing she had to a sniper.

"Corporal! Harassing fire on that Expedition!"

"Aye Ma'am." The man adjusted the sight on his rifle and fired. His shot was high and wide, but the terrorists ducked nonetheless.

"Adjust for range and distance Corporal!"

John's squad made their way to the level part of the Headquarters' roof. Like Carly's unit, it was composed of Marines and naval personnel from the JAG Corps. John had a junior attorney, Lieutenant [junior grade] Rick Bernard; one naval legalman, one Marine legalman, two legal research assistants, two computer specialists, two cafeteria workers, two file clerks, and one Marine 2nd Lieutenant Ron Beck, fresh out of Naval Justice School. AJ had picked him to join the staff not only because he looked like an up and coming lawyer, but also because he had trained as sniper before he found law more to his liking.

A gray Nissan Altima disintegrated in the visitor parking lot, throwing debris every which way. It was obvious the RPG teams were bracketing their target. The next volley would drill into their cover. Pete knew it; Jason knew it; and Jennifer knew it.

Pete looked at the two Petty Officers. "We're gonna have to make a run for it!" It was at least 18 yards to the guard shack. They could see Cassie and John firing short bursts trying to keep the gunmen behind the Expedition pinned down.

Pete Bauer started to stand to return fire when a bullet spun him around and slammed him against the side of the sedan.

"PETE!" screamed Jen. They couldn't lose him too.

"I'm all right," he grunted through the pain as he slid down next to the two JAG Corps non-commissioned officers. Now they had a new problem to deal with. "They have snipers trying to keep us pinned down." He waved his hand at them "You two get going, I'll stay here…try to draw their fire."

"Belay that Corporal," snapped Jason. He grabbed Pete and slung his left arm over his shoulder.

Jen gave Jason a stern look. "Get going, I'll cover you,"

"What?" Jason's eyes bugged out in typical Tiner fashion.

"You heard me!" she insisted, "Get going Jason, I'll cover you!"

Jason was astonished at her determination. "You'll cover me? Jen! I can't let you do that!"

Jennifer Coates immediately became incensed at this macho display. "Why not?" she demanded hotly, "Can't have a woman protect your six?"

To Jason Tiner the answer was more academic. "I outrank you! Remember? Now get going! You have the information that Sergeant Givers and the Admiral need! Pete and I will follow!"

"No!" she snapped shaking her head. "You need help getting Bauer to cover, otherwise you'll be killed!" As if to emphasize her point, another sniper's bullet smacked into the smoldering sedan.

Jason hissed in frustration. "Fine! We'll both take him!"

"Do I get a say in this?" asked the Corporal, upset that neither one was listening to him.

"No!" They both barked at the JAG security officer, effectively silencing him.

As fire from the Expedition resumed, Jason sighed in resignation. "C'mon! Grab his shirt, I'll grab his good arm and we'll go on three!"

Jen nodded and grabbed hold of the man's uniform shirt. Pete was as tall as Jason but stockier. This would be just like those emergency live saving courses she had attended. She and Jason would have to pull with all their might.

-TBC…


	36. Chapter 35

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 35

Gibbs looked through a pair of binoculars at the besieged JAG Corps installation. He could see the "mouse hole" in the wall of the building near the south stairwell. It was obvious that the terrorists had gained entrance to the building while the frontal assault was taking place.

"Tell me about the layout, Commander." Jack and Faith were laying beside the NCIS Special Agent and his 2nd in command. Ducky was prone behind them trying to see what they could see.

"The front entrance leads past a main desk to the elevator," Faith began, "The building has a total of four levels, basement, first, second and third floors. On the first floor, Legal Assistance and Administrative Law are on the right hand side of the building and the Enlisted Mess is on the left hand side. JAG Corps and the courtrooms are on the second floor-"

"I remember that from the last time we were here…." quipped Tony.

Gibbs gave Anthony DiNozzo an evil glare. "Do you mind?" He turned back to Faith, "What else?"

"As I was saying," Faith kept her eyes on Agent DiNozzo, waiting for him to open his mouth again, "JAG Corps bullpen, courtrooms, lawyer offices, the reference library, investigative division, travel office, and officer's mess is on that floor."

"What's in the basement?" interrupted Gibbs as he scanned the ground floor of the bullet pocked white trimmed, red brick building. From their vantage point, he could see that the south stairwell entrance was lower than the north entrance. Their job was to get as many people out of the Welles building as possible, stop the terrorists who were already inside, and then help the Admiral.

"Records Archives along with the Armory and quarters for the JAG security company." She replied. She arched an eyebrow. "What do you have in mind?"

"For you and the Major to cover us while we enter the building from the south stairwell," said Gibbs as he started to get up. "C'mon, Tony,"

"You got it, Gibbs," replied Jack.

Faith gave the Major an irritated look as the two NCIS agents, keeping low, sprinted for the stairwell. "Why did you reply for both of us? I'm perfectly capable of answering for myself."

Jack McBurney concentrated on keeping Jethro Gibbs and Tony DiNozzo covered as they made their way to the south stairwell entrance. "Because I heard your discussion with Dr. Mallard-"

"Don't presume to know my pistol proficiency, Major," she said levelly, "you might be surprised to know how well I did during my pistol refresher course."

He gave her that grin she despised. "I'm sure I would," he winked at her as his voice became a whisper so that Ducky could not hear. "By the way, if I were you, I'd release that safety so you can return fire, if you need to." The twinkle in his eyes was almost more than she could bear.

Her face became stone-like as she flipped off her safety.

The two NCIS agents entered the stairwell. Gibbs went high and Tony went low.

"Clear!" called out the former Gunnery Sergeant. Through the flickering and buzzing florescent light, both men could see three dead terrorists sprawled around the stairs.

Tony could see all three were dead from multiple high velocity bullet wounds. Gibbs motioned for agent DiNozzo to follow him up the stairs.

In the chaotic lighting, they found the fourth terrorist face down on the stairs; again multiple rounds had ended his life. The silver haired NCIS agent looked up at the first floor landing and saw a Gunnery Sergeant sitting against the door. Tony and Gibbs exchanged a look and then moved closer.

Gibbs felt for his pulse and quickly shook his head to Tony's unspoken question.

Both men continued past the dead Gunny up the stairs toward the JAG bullpen.

"Ready?" yelled Jason above the rattle of small arms fire, "THREE! TWO! ONE! GO! GO! GO!"

The two Petty Officers began pulling the wounded Corporal with all their might. She was right; this was just like that emergency rescue course.

The Admiral, Gunny, Webb and the remainder the security company and what was left of the JAG Corps bullpen staff moved to the low masonry wall, next to the where the attorneys cars were parked. They were getting ready to make their next bound to the hill adjacent to the guard shack when AJ saw Jennifer and Jason grab the wounded Corporal and begin dragging him toward the guard shack.

"SUPPRESSIVE FIRE ON THAT EXPEDITION AND THOSE ROOFTOPS ACROSS THE STREET! COMMENCE FIRING!"

Cassie watched as the two non-commissioned Naval officers began madly dragging Pete Bauer toward them.

"COVER ME JON! KEEP THEIR HEADS DOWN!"

"AYE, SARGE!"

Carly saw Sergeant Ramirez start to leave the meager cover of the guard shack and moved forward to meet the two Petty Officers half way. She also saw the terrorists around the Ford Expedition train their rifles on the JAG staff assistants. She turned to her improvised sniper.

"LANCE CORPORAL! FIRE AT WILL!"

As the man began firing rounds at the gunmen, she barked out another order to the rest the soldiers.

"SQUAD! SUSTAINED GRAZING FIRE ON THAT SUV!"

As the rest of the squad opened fire, the Major silently prayed that Jason and Jennifer would make it.

From his vantage point, Lieutenant Commander Burford had the clearest view of the rapidly deteriorating situation.

"SQUAD! PLUNGING FIRE ON THAT EXPEDITION! COMMENCE FIRING!"

Time seemed to slow down as bullets smacked all around the three seemingly doomed soldiers as the terrorists on the nearby roofs and the SUV unleashed a hailstorm of fire trying to stop them.

As Cassie left her post, crouched low and moving forward, the air exploded with gunfire coming from the JAG Corps squads responding the terrorists' renewed assault.

Two of the gunmen from the Expedition, hit by multiple rounds, doubled over, dropping their rifles. Four others ducked down behind the large red SUV as rifle and automatic rifle fire tore into it.

Jennifer continued pulling with all her might against Bauer's dead weight; suddenly she cried out as red blossoms enveloped her lower right arm and lower left leg. She sagged to the pavement. Jason turned, yelling out her first name. At almost the same moment, red blossomed on his right thigh. Jason yelled in pain as he too, headed for the pavement.

Jon Burkett grunted and doubled over, falling out of the guard shack, sending his rifle clattering across the pavement.

Jason tumbled to a stop by Jennifer. He reached out to her as bullets impacted all around them. Jennifer groaned in pain

Cassie ran towards the smoldering JAG Sedan which had now puffed into flame. She reached Jennifer first who was rolling around on the ground in pain.

"COATES! ARE YOU-" was all she was able to get out before she was hit by several rounds which sent her to the ground as well.

Victor had already leapt from his protected position behind the masonry wall to help out Jason and Jen, when he saw her go down.

"CASSIE!" roared Gunny as he picked up speed and ran toward his injured comrades.

AJ winced when he saw the Sergeant go down. He barely had time to react when Gunny and Sergeant Givers launched themselves toward the Petty Officers and the downed Marines.

Marla followed him toward the three prone forms. Marla saw one of the gunmen moving away from the SUV toward the sedan. She snapped off a three round burst at the man. He stumbled and fell face first onto the asphalt five feet from the car.

"Take…my hand!" Tiner said through gritted teeth. Coates, tears streaming down her face, reached for his outstretched hand.

John saw a glint of light from a nearby rooftop; that had to be one of the snipers.

"BECK! DID YOU SEE THAT?"

"AYE SIR! I HAVE A TARGET!"

"TAKE HIM OUT NOW!"

"AYE, AYE COMMANDER!"

Like an old west movie scene, Ron Beck fired and the Arab sniper tumbled off the roof of the building, falling into the street below.

Jason Tiner linked hands with Jennifer Coates and began pulling her as she held onto Pete Bauer's shirt collar. They weren't far from cover now….

As bullets continued to sing over his head, Gunny reached Cassie. He quickly assessed her grievous wounds.

"C'mon Cassie," he whispered to her as he put her on his shoulders, "Let's get you out of here…."

Marla continued snapping off three round bursts at the Expedition; that kept the remaining gunmen's heads down.

Victor carried Cassie in a fireman's carry back to where Carly's squad was located.

"Take care of her, Ma'am," he told the Major.

"We will Gunny," Carly said earnestly, giving a quick nod before he turned to head back for the wounded Petty Officers.

She turned to her sharpshooter. "Corporal! Keep searching for additional enemy snipers! There are bound to be others watching for an opportunity!"

"Aye, Aye, Major!"

Victor Galindez was joined by a Seaman and a Corporal from AJ's group which had just reached the hill adjacent to the guard shack. All three men fired their M-16s before sprinting back into maelstrom of enemy bullets. He could see Jason continuing to drag Jennifer who in turn was dragging Pete. The wounded guard was trying to help all three of them by pushing his feet away from the asphalt like a swimmer trying to propel himself across a pool.

The three man team headed back to where Marla had taken over for Jon Burkett, providing cover fire for the three wounded soldiers slowly inching toward her.

Victor and his volunteers reached the three wounded JAG staff members. Gunny reached down and grabbed Jason's blood smeared tunic. "Come on hero," he grunted.

Marla stopped firing, ran over, and grabbed Jennifer by her shirt collar. As she did, the Seaman got hold of Pete Bauer's shirt collar while the Corporal continued firing at the bullet riddled Expedition.

As the Seaman began to lift the man, the Corporal stopped firing and helped him carry Pete toward the guard shack.

The improvised litter teams arrived at Carly's position.

"Is that everyone?" she asked.

"Everyone that was alive," Victor replied somberly. He got up and went with the Seaman and Corporal to retrieve the bodies of Jon Burkett and Jim Gadsden.

The badly damaged Ford Crown Victoria, which had been smoldering as Victor and his group evacuated the Petty Officers and the JAG security Corporal, burned more fiercely now, as flames raced toward the holed fuel lines. Boiling black clouds created by the flame consumed seat fabric, plastics, insulation, electrical wiring, and carpet causing the terrorist gunfire to temporarily lift. This allowed Gunny and his team to retrieve the bodies without having to dodge enemy fire.

The wind suddenly picked up, temporarily dissipating the dark clouds. With his line of sight temporarily cleared, Carly's sharpshooter spotted more movement.

"MAJOR! I HAVE ANOTHER TARGET ON THE ROOF OF THE BUILDING ADJACENT TO WHERE COMMANDER BURFORD'S SHARPSHOOTER FOUND THE FIRST ONE!"

"PUT HIM OUT OF COMMISSION CORPORAL!"

"AYE, MA'AM! CONSIDER IT DONE!"

The Lance Corporal fired and a smashed Dragunov sniper rifle crashed to the pavement.

By this time, Admiral Chegwidden and Special Agent Webb had their squad in position on the low hill adjacent and to the left of the bullet riddled guard shack, ready to the return fire.

AJ's normally starched summer dress whites were covered with dirt, grease and grass stains, as were those uniforms of the men and women next to him. Even Clayton Webb's perfectly tailored three piece grey suit was rumpled and had several dark stains. His lavender tie had been pulled away from around his neck at one point and now it swung loosely from the open collar of his sweat and dirt stained white dress shirt.

AJ scanned the Major's position. During the heaviest of the fighting, it made sense for them to be positioned where they were. It would have been exceedingly difficult for them to have made it to this hill at that point.

Now with the smoke from the burning JAG sedan and other wrecked vehicles, the terrorists' fire had lessened considerably making it possible for his squad to take up positions here.

"Major, get your squad over here on the double!"

The reply was swift. "Aye, aye, Admiral!"

It took several minutes for Carly's squad to move over to the hill as Carly's soldiers helped Tiner, Coates and Bauer to make the move.

The Admiral was shaken by Jennifer's wounds. Her face had several small but inconsequential lacerations. It was the other wounds that worried him. He'd never forgive himself for letting her and Tiner try to bring Mrs. Dodge in, he should have known better.

"Coates, how bad are your wounds?" the ex-SEAL asked with genuine concern in his voice. Blood was seeping from the bandages wrapped around her lower right arm and her lower left leg.

Despite her injuries, Jen answered as any Petty Officer would answer their commanding officer. "They hurt Sir, but I think I'll be okay…."

Despite the anguish he felt, he was proud of the brave face she was giving him. He turned to his Yeoman. "Tiner?"

Jason answered in his typical fashion. "I took a round in my calf Admiral," he replied looking down at the bandage a Seaman 2nd Class was wrapping around his thigh, "But I'll be okay Sir." Jason's face also had several small lacerations, probably from chipped pavement hitting him. AJ also noticed the blood seeping from Tiner's forehead—the man had come within a hair's breadth of being killed. Fortunately for him it was only a graze.

"Good man Tiner," the JAG started to move away from his wounded Yeoman when Jason's hand shot out and grabbed his arm.

"Admiral? I'm sorry for…for what happened…it was all my fault, Sir…I take full responsibility."

AJ stopped, taking in the serious look on Jason Tiner's face. The JAG knew that look; it was the same one he gave his CO when he had lost his first man during a mission in Mekong Delta.

"Son, you did all that you could, you even saved the life of one of the security officers, no one is blaming you-"

"-but it was my fault Sir," Jason interrupted, his voice urgent. "I should have listened to Corporal Bauer; he knew something was wrong when we couldn't find Mrs. Dodge. We brought them back here and it's my fault Admiral!"

AJ had had enough of Jason's martyr complex, "Lock it up, Petty Officer!" AJ got nose to nose with Jason. "Now, you listen to me and listen good! You did as well as any other soldier would have done! People die in combat, Tiner, that's just the way it is! It's nobody's fault, there's no blame—it just happens! You can 'what if' it to death; 'maybe if I would have done this' or 'I should have done that' but it doesn't change the outcome! Now you get over your guilt complex, you read me?"

The rebuke stung, but AJ Chegwidden was right.

"Aye, aye, Sir." said Jason quietly. The Seaman 2nd class had moved back to Jennifer to check on her wounds.

"I've got a battle to fight Petty Officer Tiner, so you straighten up or I'll make sure the only school you get into is traffic school," he growled.

"You have such a winning way with your enlisted men Admiral," AJ turned to see Clayton Webb sitting next to him.

"Don't push me Mr. Webb, I may decide to hold you up and let those terrorists use you for target practice!"

AJ moved away from the two men.

Clayton looked at the senior Petty Officer, "He's kidding, right?"

"I don't think so Sir," replied Jason.

AJ moved over to where a Corpsman from the security company was tending to Pete Bauer.

"How are you doing, Corporal?"

Pete looked up at the JAG. "I'll be okay Sir, took one round through my leg and one through my arm, both clean, Admiral."

AJ nodded, "You did a good job out there son, and you brought my Petty Officers back."

Pete appreciated the praise from the JAG, but he was equally thankful. "I owe them my life, Admiral. If it wasn't for Petty Officers Coates and Tiner, Sir, I would have ended up like my partner."

AJ Chegwidden sighed. He had seen Corporal Gadsden killed. "Son, I'm sorry about your friend," said the JAG feeling the full weight of his rank right at this moment.

Pete looked at him intensely. "Don't be Sir. It wasn't your fault. Jim and I both knew the risks when we accepted the transfer to JAG Corps Security."

If that was supposed to make the JAG feel better, it didn't. Though he had been moving to the stairwell with Webb when the shooting broke out, his eyes had cataloged each and every dead staff member that he saw as he moved through his bullpen.

He knew Gunny had seen at least one person dead and maybe more and now they could add Corporals Jim Gadsden and Jon Burkett to that casualty list.

(And God knows how many civilians have been killed….) He thought grimly. The worst part hadn't even started yet. As soon as the fighting stopped, the Washington blame game would begin. Sheffield would want a head, probably his. AJ pushed that dark thought to the back of his mind. That would have to wait; right now he had an installation to defend and wounded to see to.

His attention turned to the two litter teams that carried Sergeant Ramirez and the dead Marines. The JAG made his way over to Carly who was crouched beside them.

As Cassie's stretcher was set down, AJ conferred with Carly.

"How bad is she, Major?" he asked.

Carly looked over her shoulder at the immobile Sergeant and then back at the JAG. "She has two rounds in her right shoulder…a little lower and she wouldn't be breathing, Carly replied frankly, "and one in her left shoulder. As it is, she needs medical attention now, Sir."

AJ nodded and motioned to the Seaman holding the radio. The man came over to where Carly and the JAG were laying.

"Son, tell them we need a medevac immediately! We have a Marine down that needs immediate medical attention and three ambulatory!"

The Seaman nodded. "Aye Sir!" and began relaying the message

Gibbs and DiNozzo entered the hallway next to the JAG bullpen. Immediately they a dead sailor sprawled out in front of the bullet riddled bullpen glass doors. As they stealthily moved forward, they could see several bloodstained figures moving toward the doors. Occasional stray bullets continued to zip through the air above them.

Tony gingerly moved the dead man out of the way as Gibbs helped open the doors for the four military personnel. The senior NCIS agent immediately recognized the shoulder boards of Rear Admiral Stiles Morris. He and one of the JAG attorneys along with a Marine guard were dragging a semi-conscious female Commander behind them.

"Are you okay Sir?" asked Gibbs.

Judge Morris looked up bewildered at the NCIS agent's sudden and unexpected appearance. "Agent Gibbs?" He quickly recovered. "Yes, I'm fine, but we have an unconscious Commander here who needs medical attention…."

Tony came up beside Gibbs. "I'll go check out the others, Boss." The former Baltimore PD detective crouched low, moving through the shattered bullpen, checking on each of the unmoving men and women.

Gibbs turned back to the JAG Judge. "The south stairwell is clear Admiral; we'll take your group down that way…DiNozzo?"

Anthony DiNozzo shook his head. "No one else around Boss, they must've evacuated already."

"Let's get the Admiral and his party outta here, Tony"

"Right boss," came back the automatic reply.

As they started for the stairwell, Gibbs phone started ringing.

"Boss?" Tony jerked his head toward Gibb's breast pocket.

"What?" snapped the senior NCIS agent.

"Your phone boss," Tony said delicately.

Jethro Gibbs dug into his shirt pocket and dug out his cell phone. "Who is this?"

"General Everston, Quantico Marine Corps Base, Special Agent Gibbs. I wanted to get a direct assessment from you on the tactical situation since you are leading the special response team."

"The tactical situation?" repeated Gibbs. Tony and the others stopped and stared. The senior NCIS couldn't believe the gall of this guy (of all the…) "Sir, the tactical situation is that JAG Corps Headquarters is under attack from at least a company sized suicide unit of Al-Qaeda terrorists-"

"What I need to know, Special Agent Gibbs," the General interrupted icily, "is, can your team handle this situation?"

"Sir?" This kept getting better and better.

"Sending tanks and personnel carriers into Falls Church would not look good, Special Agent Gibbs. Is it necessary? Do you understand what I am saying?"

It was evident to the former Gunnery Sergeant that this base commander had political ambitions. He decided to give his answer as any Gunnery Sergeant would that had nothing else to lose.

"We've got a war going on outside General Everston! You'd better send us some support quick or there are going to be a lot more dead people around here!"

The line was quiet for a moment. It was obvious the good General was weighing his options.

"I'll get some Sea Knights airborne, Agent Gibbs."

"You do that," replied Gibbs snidely and started to cut the connection.

"What's the problem Special Agent?" Judge Morris knew Jethro Gibbs hadn't received the answer he wanted.

"We're on our own for the moment, Sir."

"Let me have your phone Special Agent." Morris said quietly.

Gibbs handed him the phone.

"General Everston? This is Rear Admiral Stiles Morris, JAG Corps. Let me put this in terms you will understand. We are under assault by Arab terrorists, most likely Al-Qaeda. If this installation falls, heads will roll across Washington. And if I, by chance, I survive, I'll have you arrested and brought up on charges of violating Articles 92, Disobedience of orders, 99, Misbehavior before the enemy; 133, Conduct unbecoming an officer; 134, Scandalous conduct, and any other violations of appropriate articles of the Uniform Code of Military Justice that I can think of. And I'll strongly recommend to the convening authority that you be sent to the most remote outpost of the Corps upon conclusion of your General Courts Martial. That is, of course, if you are not sent directly to prison. Have I made myself perfectly clear General?"

Judge Morris listened to the man on other end of the line for a moment, and then handed the phone back to Gibbs.

"The General wants to inform you personally of a change in plans Special Agent Gibbs." Stiles Morris said curtly.

The senior NCIS agent smiled.

Another RPG round smacked into one of the walls near JAG Headquarters

Admiral Chegwidden took the radio microphone away from the Seaman.

"Commander Burford! Can you take care of that centerfield stands' rowdy?"

John looked at his radioman confused. (Centerfield? Stands…baseball!) "Of course!" He said aloud. Ron looked at the Commander as if he had lost his mind.

"Beck! Can you get a bead on that last RPG gunner?"

Ron shook his head. "I didn't see him Commander."

John pointed out what the Admiral had seen. "Try across the street and to the left, just by the billboard."

Ron Beck wasn't sure he understood…then he saw it. "Aye Sir! I have the target in sight!"

"Centerfield stands, Beck. Put him out of action!"

Ron gave the naval Commander a grim smile. "Aye, aye, Commander!"

Hamad, Kazir's second in command, was sprayed with blood as his RPG gunner lost his balance and crumpled into a heap by the roof ledge. Two more bullets from the sniper rifle dug into the Victorian style masonry. Hamad took shelter behind the boxy frame of an air conditioning compressor. He was screaming into his radio as he vainly tried to regroup his shattered squad.

AJ had just finished listening to the radio as the person on the other end confirmed his call for a quick reaction force. As he started to hand the headset back the Seaman, it crackled with John Burford's excited voice.

"Target down Sir!" the Commander announced, his voice sounding tinny over the radio.

A rifle report indicated their problems were far from over.

AJ quickly scanned the buildings. "What about the rowdy in right field stands?"

"He's taken cover Sir," replied John, "The Lieutenant doesn't have a clear shot."

"Major," Carly turned toward the Admiral.

"Yes Sir," she replied automatically.

"Can your sharpshooter hit that guy in the right field stands?"

Carly shook her head, "I'm sorry Sir, I'm not following," she said honestly.

AJ smiled, "Think baseball, Major. Now, can your man do it?"

Carly returned his smile, understanding now what he meant. "Aye Sir, I'll also have him sweep the outfield."

The JAG chuckled; maybe the Major would make it here after all.

His brief escape from this nightmare was quickly cut short by the stuttering of the PK machinegun down the street.

"Where the hell is that quick reaction force?" he muttered.

Hammad's first squad heavy weapons crew continued firing their machinegun, holding the Falls Church Special Weapons and Tactics team at bay, their job was to keep any reaction forces from reaching JAG Headquarters. They also knew that sooner or later, they would become martyrs to the cause.

The SWAT team commander was finally able to get a couple of his men on of the roofs of the buildings near the van and fiercely burning patrol car, but they couldn't get a clear shot. He had another man in a building that sat at an oblique angle to the van. Like the others, the SWAT officer still could not get a clear shot.

The men in the passenger van knew it was only a matter of time now. They figured the local police tactical unit would soon overrun them. Still, they would try to take as many with them as possible.

The terrorists never saw the Marine FAST team that had fast roped down from a 'silenced' HH-60 transport helo. They were stealthily moving closer on either side of the van to its rear doors. A couple of soldiers on the FAST team rolled flash-bang grenades under the vehicle while one other was able to toss one of his grenades so that it bounced in through the cracked open back door of the van into the rear cargo area.

The loud reports of the grenades temporarily blinded and stunned the PK machinegun crew. Together with the SWAT unit members, the FAST team sent canisters of tear gas mixed with other irritants through the now open back doors.

Three of the men in the van stumbled out, trying to aim their rifles and were shot dead. The others in the van refused to come out. Then a fourth man tried to make a run for it and died in a hail of bullets. His pistol skittered across the pavement and into a storm drain. The rest of men in the van were shot as they tried to clear a jam in the machinegun.

Coleman and McBurney watched as the south stairwell door opened. Special Agent Gibbs came out first looking for possible snipers. He was followed by Alan Mattoni carrying a female naval officer in a fireman's carry. They were closely followed by Admiral Morris and a Marine court guard. Special Agent DiNozzo brought up the rear.

The Lieutenant Commander stood up as if ready to leave a movie theater during the middle of dull movie. "Please cover me Major; I'm going out to help Commander Mattoni bring Commander Imes over to Doctor Mallard."

"Commander wait…." Jack called out as she headed toward Gibbs and the others.

Ducky looked over Jack McBurney's shoulder, somewhat surprised. "Is that her first spontaneous action, Major?"

Jack couldn't believe it either. "As far as I know Ducky,"

Gibbs started, and then lowered his weapon.

"You almost got yourself killed Commander." He said

If Faith Coleman was flustered by this, she didn't show it. "Then Major McBurney would have had to bring you up on fratricide charges, Agent Gibbs." She moved past him and his agitated stare to Alan's side. "How is Commander Imes?"

Alan Mattoni was still smirking about her no nonsense response to Gibbs. Then he saw her serious expression. "She says she hit some tables and chairs while taking cover but I think she may have taken a stray bullet as well."

Faith looked over toward Ducky and Jack McBurney. "Let's get her over to Doctor Mallard," she replied.

The terrorist's second squad was down to three men. Kazir sat slumped against the Expedition, silent, having bled out moments ago. The able bodied ones continued to fire at the burning JAG Ford Crown Victoria, in hopes of killing those troublesome Petty Officers and their Marine lackeys that had blown their cover.

As the oldest of the terrorists tried to draw a bead on a downed Marine, he felt his shoulder explode in pain. He tumbled backwards, as his two comrades, taking multiple hits, sank lifelessly next to him. The man looked up dazedly at his two dying comrades.

As his vision dimmed, he saw the unearthly vision of a half-man , half beast peering down into his face. For some reason his mind heard an unearthly roar come from the shape as he opened his mouth in a silent scream. Where was the paradise he had been promised?

"Bravo team one. What is your situation, Over?"

The FAST team Sergeant lifted his gas mask, tearing his eyes off the now dead Al-Qaeda gunman. "This is bravo team leader; the SUV is secure." He looked over at the burning JAG sedan and wounded and mortally injured soldiers and sailors scattered throughout the outer perimeter parking lot. The JAG Headquarters security company, or what was left of it, was moving slowly through the lot, looking for survivors. "We're going to need several medevacs for the casualties."

At that moment sirens could be heard descending on the scene of the battle as well as the tale-tale whup, whup. whup of approaching helicopters.

A pregnant Harriet Sims and the rest of the surviving JAG Corps bullpen personnel made their way to Chegwidden's and Carly's position.

"Lieutenant?" AJ's stunned expression quickly gave way to anger. "Have you lost your mind? Get back to Headquarters right now! That's an order!"

"Not without Petty Officers Coates and Tiner Sir!" Harriet said just as fiercely. AJ was a bit taken aback by her reaction and defiance.

"Excuse me?" he said, cold fury washing over his features. Harriet found herself involuntarily taking a step backwards. "Lieutenant, in case you have forgotten, as ranking senior officer in the JAG bullpen, I expect you and the surviving JAG personnel to secure all classified material. Your job is not to come out here and play Clara Barton to my staff!"

He did not even mention the fact that Harriet was six months pregnant and had no business being out here in the first place. He thought that was pretty obvious.

"Ma'am, we're okay… really…." Jason said trying to head off this confrontation before it got any worse. "Thanks to Gunny."

She turned her back on the fuming JAG. "How about you, Coates?"

"As well as can be expected Ma'am," said Jennifer as she tried to hide her pain with a smile. "As Tiner said, thanks to Gunny."

Harriet looked over at Victor Galindez with tear filled eyes "You old softie," she said with a tremor in her voice.

Victor was characteristically stoic "They would have done the same for me, Ma'am."

It was then that Harriet Sims noticed the Gunnery Sergeant's bloodstained shoulder.

"Gunny, your shoulder-" she moved closer to him, but uncharacteristically, he waved her away.

"I'm fine Lieutenant, really," he said touching the bloody shirt as if to indicate how minor his injuries were. "It's just a scratch, Ma'am, nothing to worry about."

But Harriet was unconvinced. "Gunnery Sergeant, I've seen my share of 'scratches' with little AJ; that is not a scratch." She said in her best Lieutenant voice.

"Please Ma'am, it's okay, go back inside…" Victor sounded embarrassed.

AJ felt as if he were losing control of the situation. "Lieutenant! Are you done harassing my staff?"

She turned to face the JAG, her eyes sparkled with determination. "Sir, Gunnery Sergeant Galindez has a wound that needs medical attention!"

True Gunny needed to have his shoulder checked, but Admiral Chegwidden was having none of her insubordination. "And I ordered you back inside Lieutenant Sims! Are you disobeying the direct order of a superior officer?"

She looked over at Gunny, Tiner, and Coates and then back at AJ. She steeled herself before his angry features. "No Sir." She wanted to add, 'I'm just worried about my friends' but seeing the look on his face made her reconsider. The less said the better.

AJ wasn't sure what to think. He had expected another angry outburst from her, so her stern 'Yes Sir' had thrown him off balance. "Then get the hell back inside!"

Harriet hardened herself. She wasn't going to cry this time for being slapped down by the JAG; he did have her best interests at heart. "Aye, aye, Sir!"

He turned to one of the Seamen that had accompanied her. "You! Go with her! Make sure she gets back inside!"

"Aye Sir!"

As Harriet and Seaman made their way back to the Welles building, one of the security officers joined them.

As soon as she was out of earshot, AJ cleared his throat. "Gunny, have the Corpsman look at your shoulder. Now."

Hammad could not believe it. The American police tactical unit and the Marine counter-terrorist team had eliminated both first and second squads. Also his RPG gunners were no longer responding. Only the third squad was intact but it was pinned down by heavy fire just south of his location. It was not supposed to happen this way.

Still Hammad did not wallow in anger and self recrimination. He was a practical man and knew when to cut his losses. Besides, he still had one squad in reserve. Carefully, he made his way to the fire escape and started down the side of the building facing away from the firefight.

-TBC…


	37. Chapter 36

Chapter 36, …For Meritorious Service

1204 Local

BOQ Camp Chesty Puller

Mirbullah, Iraq

Mac sat up, bathed in sweat. Despite making up with Harm, her night demons continued to torment her. Even worse, that little sarcastic voice was back, dragging her deeper and deeper into depression. She leaned her head against the wall in back of her bed and let out a low sigh.

"So much for sleep…." she grumbled, throwing her feet out the bed and pushing herself up and out from under the covers.

As she walked outside the cool night air chilled her face and nose, adding to her discomfort. She looked across the compound and saw the light filtering out from the R&R building. She had had enough of running and the weight room -maybe she could find something to distract her in the television room.

As she started to cross the compound, she saw Harm making a beeline for her destination.

"Don't tell me; you can't sleep either, Navy?"

Harm turned. The Marine Colonel was standing by her building, arms crossed.

"Hey Mac," he said easily.

"Hey yourself," she tried smiling at him. Showing concern might make his shields go up, so she feigned curiosity. "What are you doing up at this hour, Harm? You're not exactly a night owl."

He gave her a tired grin. "I could ask you the same question, Marine."

Harm looked at his partner and saw beneath her easy smile. "You had another dream, didn't you?" he pressed.

She nodded her head. Why deny it? It had never gotten her anywhere before and all it ended up making them do was butt heads.

"Nothing gets by you, Sherlock." Mac studied the aviator/lawyer's tired face. "You too?"

The Commander shrugged. "Let's just say, I've been totally refreshed by my power nap."

"Totally?" She cocked an eyebrow in disbelief. She knew better.

"Well mostly totally," he hedged. "Between nightmares."

She sighed. "Well, it's obvious we aren't sleepy right now. Why don't we go in and see what movie is on the late, late show?"

Harm gave her a lopsided grin. "Lead on, MacKenzie."

As they walked through the double doors, giving each other small smiles, they almost didn't see the crowd around the television room.

"What's going-"

Several of the Marines and Navy personnel stared at the two JAG attorneys for a moment. The faces in the crowd were awash with sympathy and concern. In the background, nightmarish images could be seen on the television screen. Mac felt cold fingers of fear grip her heart.

"…if you are just tuning in, these are live shots of the Welles building, also known as Judge Advocate General's Headquarters in Falls Church, Virginia…."

As the reporter droned on, Mac and Harm could see on the screen the bodies of several marines and sailors sprawled around the entrance to JAG HQ. Cars, trucks and SUVs were on fire, including a ubiquitous JAG Ford Crown Victoria and a red Ford Expedition.

Harm and Mac exchanged stunned looks.

"Harm…." Mac said slowly, feeling a prickly sensation of dread racing up her back.

Involuntarily, the aviator/lawyer gave her a hug not thinking about where they were. Then, realizing where they were, let her go. Mac though surprised by this sudden display of affection understood why he had stopped even though deep down she wished he hadn't. Harm gave her hand that was now down by her side, the slightest brush of reassurance. Mac gave him a quick look of gratefulness and then buried it again. They turned back to the flickering television screen.

"…daring daylight assault against the facility. Correspondent Pam Somers, who was on another assignment in the area, witnessed the beginning of the attack. Pam, what's the latest?"

"Brittany, we have unconfirmed reports of at least ten dead and two dozen wounded…." As her voiceover continued, mini-cam shots showed civilians crouching under the protection of heavily armed Falls Church police officers and SWAT team members.

Then the image changed. On a street that Harm and Mac almost didn't recognize as Stovall, they saw traffic signals swinging precariously in the breeze against a background of burning vehicles. The signals continued through their normal light pattern, oblivious to the destruction around them.

Mac's breath hitched when she saw the bullet riddled Headquarters building through the jumpy eyes of the mini-cam. Harm brushed her hand again, wishing he could just take her into his arms.

It took all of their military training to keep from breaking down emotionally. Except for the television, the room was dead silent. No one spoke.

"Sir, Ma'am?" Harm and Mac turned to see a Sergeant had entered the room. The look on his face was one of empathy. "The Colonel would like to see you both in his quarters, ASAP."

"C'mon Mac," said Harm gently, urging her to leave the stark images flashing on the television. He gave her back the slightest brush with his hand.

Mac could hear the voices from her dreams coming back to her though she was wide awake. Harm's touch quieted the voices. She nodded. The lady Marine attorney took one last look at the images of war on the screen, and then walked out of the crowded television room with the Commander.

When the Navy Commander and the Marine Lieutenant Colonel arrived, Bud, Judge Blakely and Sturgis were silently watching Colonel's Brigg's television in his office. Briggs' face was grim as he stood beside them.

"Sir?" the Sergeant said to Colonel Briggs. Harm and Mac came to attention.

Ashton nodded and then motioned for the two defense lawyers to dispense with the protocol. As Harm and Mac came over to the television, Sturgis looked at both of them with his characteristic stoic demeanor.

Ashton Briggs and the Sergeant quietly excused themselves from the room, leaving the JAG Corps officers by themselves with the television.

Bud was still glued to the screen, shaking his head. "This can't be happening…." The Lieutenant said seemingly disconsolate.

Colonel Clifford Blakely turned away from the television screen, his face like stone.

On the screen, a LAV-25 roared down the street followed close behind by a HMMWV. Gunfire could be heard in the background.

"Terrorists have attacked JAG Headquarters…." began Blakely feeling that as senior officer of the JAG group he should tell Harm and Mac what was going on.

"We know Sir," Harm said as respectfully as he could at this moment. "The Colonel and I saw the news feed in the rec room."

"Commander, Colonel? Do you think …?" Bud couldn't make himself say the rest.

"I'm sure Harriet is fine," Mac replied not feeling as confident of that fact as she sounded. She tried to give him a reassuring smile.

"Harriet's okay Bud," added Harm reinforcing Mac's efforts, "The Admiral wouldn't let anything happen to her."

"There have been a dozen deaths so far," Sturgis said clinically before looking back at the screen.

"A dozen?" Harm blew out a frustrated breath. Just moments ago it had been ten dead. Mac moved closer to Harm.

"They're just starting to get casualty reports, Harm." Sturgis said in an oddly calm voice, "The death toll will probably go a lot higher."

Mac felt as if she was in a nightmare she couldn't wake up from. "Do we know who the dead and wounded are, Sir?" she asked anxiously.

Judge Blakely shook his head. "No, ZNN is as much in the dark as we are at this point."

"Sir, with your permission, I'd like to contact JAG Headquarters as soon as possible," Bud said urgently to Blakely.

"Bud, that may be a while," cautioned the Bubblehead. "Heavy fighting is still going on around Headquarters."

Bud looked from Sturgis to Blakely. "Sir?" There was confusion evident in his voice.

"The Commander is right Lieutenant; it may be hours before this battle winds down."

"Sir, my wife-" Everyone could hear the anguish in his voice.

Mac heard herself wince. Bud sounded so lost, so alone. Harm sensed her internal turmoil. Now it was his turn to step closer to her.

Sturgis Turner cursed all those times recently he had verbally beaten up on the Lieutenant, but now was not the time for Lieutenant Bud Roberts to come apart.

"Lieutenant, you need to understand. There is nothing you, or any of us, can do at this point-"

Bud could not believe what he was hearing. "Commander, with all due respect, you of all people can't possibly-"

"Bud!" Mac said, the warning evident in her voice. Despite her commanding tone, she was shocked beyond words by Bud J. Robert's accusation.

"Lieutenant! Power down!" Harm admonished sharply.

"No Sir!" said Bud with vehemence, tears evident in his eyes. "Commander Turner has been dogging me since he arrived at JAG! First it was my weight! Then it was my falling asleep during Court due to the fact I was trying to be a good father! He still hasn't forgiven me for what happened at the Board Hearing! And now I'm supposed to be a good little sailor and not show any emotion when my wife may be one of the dead or wounded in a terrorist attack! Well unlike him, I can't just turn my emotions-"

Mac was too stunned to say anything.

Harm was about to say something, but the JAG judge beat him to it.

"Lieutenant! That's enough!" barked Colonel Blakely.

"No your Honor," said the former submariner quietly, "Let him finish. Let the Lieutenant tell me why being emotional will help in this situation."

It was evident that Bud was seething. Sturgis Turner's cold clinical analysis had been the last straw in his mind. "How can you be so cold! Those are our friends that are dying back there! You think that you are so detached and above it all, seeing all the faults of us mortals from your high and mighty chair of judgment! Commander Rabb's impulsive and blind! Colonel MacKenzie is narrow-minded and straitlaced to a fault! And I know what you think of me! So go ahead Sir! Tell them! " The junior JAG officer snarled.

"Lieutenant you are *way* out of line!" snapped Blakely. "Lock it up now or I will have you *thrown* in the brig!"

The young JAG attorney snapped to attention, but it was obvious he was still agitated as evidenced by his rapid breathing and red face.

Harm could not believe this was the same almost nebbish Ensign that had kept him from going to jail for Lieutenant Diane Schonke's murder. What was even more bizarre was the calm manner in which his academy school mate was taking this. He wanted to ask his old friend what was going on, but this didn't seem to be the time or place for this kind of question.

Mac knew Bud had been under pressure since before he went to the Seahawk as a Force Judge Advocate. He was right, Sturgis had been riding him. It took all of Mac's self restraint to keep from saying anything to the Bubblehead in front of Judge Blakely.

Clifford Blakely took a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. "We're all frustrated and agitated right now Lieutenant. But that is no excuse for lashing out verbally at a senior officer." He looked over at the Marine attorney and saw she wanted to say something, but curiously, was staying silent. Clearly the situation at JAG had upset her and the Lieutenant's outburst had not helped.

"Aye Sir." said Bud nearly straining himself to keep another outburst from escaping.

"Go to your quarters." Blakely ordered, "I'll deal with you later."

"Aye, aye Sir." Lieutenant Robert's face showed his conflicted emotions as he did an about face and left the room to the four senior officers.

Mac and Harm exchanged quick furtive glances. They too were worried about Harriet Sims as well as their other friends back at JAG, however, now was not the time to express their concerns. The atmosphere in the room was turbulent enough.

When the door clicked shut, Judge Blakely turned to the three remaining JAG attorneys.

"It is academic that we can't begin jury selection tomorrow. I'm letting Colonel Briggs and General Thornton know that I am delaying proceedings for at least 24 hours, maybe longer."

Now it was Sturgis' turn to be agitated. "Your Honor, do you think that's wise? This case has already been delayed for months-"

"And a few more days will not hurt Commander Turner. These are unusual extenuating circumstances and I'm certain that any other judge in my position would do the same. Besides, your second chair needs time to cool down."

But Commander Turner wasn't done. "Sir if that is the reason for the delay; I assure you I can handle the prosecution by myself-"

The Judge gave Commander Turner a harsh glare. "And I said the proceedings can be delayed; are you disputing my judgment Commander?"

"No your Honor, I am just stating the fact that if Lieutenant Robert's emotional state is the reason for your delay-"

"It's not the only reason Commander Turner." That was all that needed to be said.

Blakely made sure all three understood he was talking to all of them. "I am informing Colonel Briggs and General Thornton that I am delaying proceedings for at least 24 hours."

"Aye Sir," they replied in unison.

All three stood at attention as Judge Blakely left the room to inform the Convening Authority of his decision. The three JAGs eyed each other warily as the television continued to announce the bad news from overseas.

AJ Chegwidden laid on the hillside looking out at the carnage to their front. Both the JAG sedan and the SUV were being rapidly consumed by flames. Bloodstains marked, where Tiner, Coates and Bauer had fought for their lives. The larger stained areas marked the passing of Gadsden and the group of terrorists that had tried to force their way into the compound. Luckily, the FAST team found that SUV had not been wired with explosives. (Lucky, huh?) snorted AJ to himself at the absurdness of that statement, given the destruction around them.

The pile of bullet casings scattered between the two vehicles reminded him of another blood spattered surface littered with shell casings.

It was supposed to have been a routine insertion. But no one had told the Viet Cong that as their patrol torpedo boat (PTF) had maneuvered close to shore to drop Lieutenant Chegwidden's SEAL team. Suddenly the dark humid night became bright as noon day as the boat was caught in a savage crossfire. With the help of the PTF crew, they fought their way out of their trap, but the young Lieutenant lost four of his best men that night, one dying in his arms as their bullet riddled boat limped back to their base.

Hang on Chief,

Sorry I messed up Lootenant…

Belay that! You didn't mess up Chief, if anyone did, it was me…

Just like an officer Sir, trying…trying to take…the blame….

Chief? Carsons! Don't you give up! That's an order Chief Petty Officer Carsons! Do you hear me!

"Admiral!"

AJ snapped back to the present. It was his radio officer. Clayton Webb looked over at AJ's face and then went back to conferring with one of the Marines next to him.

"Sorry Sir, I've got the Falls Church chief of police wanting to speak with you."

AJ took the radio's receiver. "Chief? This Admiral Chegwidden…."

"What's your situation Admiral?"

AJ shifted his position to get a better look around. "We've got snipers across the street from us keeping our heads down. The FAST team eliminated the terrorists that had been assaulting the main gate. We're in a stalemate at this point."

"Understood Sir. We've evacuated all of Stovall up to the 190th block. My men, augmented by DC police and Virginia state patrolmen, are clearing the surrounding blocks. We're expecting reinforcements from 8th and I and Quantico anytime now.

A bullet smacked into a nearby tree causing everyone, including AJ, to duck. The near miss only highlighted that things were far from great at this point.

AJ irritated with this harassing fire, spoke into the receiver again. "Chief? Can you do anything about these damn snipers? My sharpshooters have eliminated all the ones we can see…."

"We're working on it, Admiral. The Navy's Special Response Team has made it to your area and is working on that problem now."

Before AJ could ask who was leading the SRT, he saw several men in plainclothes backed by Major McBurney and Lieutenant Commander Coleman making their way from the back of the Welles building toward his position.

He shook his head at the irony of it. The man saving his bacon was none other than Special Agent Gibbs of NCIS.

Bud was pacing back and forth in his room. His mind replayed the scene in Colonel Briggs' office over and over and over again making him wonder for a moment if he had lost his mind.

Then, in his mind's eye, he saw Harriet's bullet shattered body lying motionless on the ground. The junior attorney knew he had to find a way to get back to Washington, now!

He almost didn't hear the knocking on his door.

"Come," he said distractedly as he started to sit down on his bunk until he saw Colonel Clifford Blakely step through the opened door.

"Colonel!" he said snapping to attention.

"At ease Lieutenant," said Blakely quickly as he walked in and closed the door.

"Sir, if I may, I was completely out of line in Colonel Briggs' office," Bud said hastily hoping to explain himself before the judge slapped him down. "There is no excuse for my actions."

Judge Blakely gave him an angry glower. "You're right Lieutenant; there is no excuse for your actions."

"Yes Sir." Lieutenant Roberts had no recourse but to accept his punishment. He had pushed his luck one too many times. Judge Blakely was not known for benevolent attitude toward emotional outbursts.

The Marine JAG Judge studied the JAG officer for a long moment. "Lieutenant, you didn't undergo post traumatic stress counseling after the loss of your leg in Afghanistan, did you?"

"No your Honor, I didn't; how did…I mean, how…" Bud Sr.'s oldest son wasn't sure how to respond to that question.

"Losing a leg the way you did would have left anyone angry…." Surmised the Judge.

"But I didn't blame anyone Sir," Bud said defensively, "that is, with the exception of myself. I should have realized that child knew more about those fields than I did…."

"But Lieutenant, combine that loss with the some of the incidents between you and Commander Turner and what we saw today was the result." The Colonel made sure those words sunk in.

"I'm not your commanding officer, Lieutenant, but as your acting senior officer, I am ordering you seek counseling when we return to JAG Headquarters."

Bud flinched. Counseling at this point might possibly damage his career, which he had worked so hard to get back. He had to make the Judge see his side. "Sir…your Honor…you have to understand; do you have a wife…?"

It was a vain hope. "No, Lieutenant, I'm afraid I don't."

Bud tried one last time. "Sir…your Honor, my wife…Harriet, she means the world to me…I wouldn't know what to do if I lost her…."

Clifford Blakely was used to seeing JAG attorney Lieutenant Roberts argue cases in his courtroom. Protocol and the geography of Headquarters had kept from ever seeing this side of the man.

Still, his outburst against Commander Sturgis Turner could not be ignored.

Blakely, despite his martinet reputation in the courtroom, was a fair and honest judge. He picked a punishment that he thought fit the breach in protocol. "As I said Lieutenant, I don't have a wife. You are confined to quarters…for the next 24 hours and afterwards I want you to issue Commander Turner a formal apology for your actions."

"Yes your Honor." It could have been worse.

The JAG Judge started to leave the man's quarters when he stopped at the door.

"Lieutenant?"

"Yes Sir?"

"As an officer, your actions and remarks were reprehensible and unacceptable. As a U.S. Naval Lieutenant, you should know better."

"Yes Sir." He deserved that.

But Judge Blakely wasn't done yet. "However, as a distraught husband worried about his wife, your feelings can be somewhat understood. I do want you and Commander Turner to resolve these issues you two have. Understood?"

Bud Roberts was glad the man understood, even if it meant 24 hours of confinement. "Aye, aye Sir. And thank you your Honor. I will resolve my issues with the Commander."

Clifford Blakely nodded his approval. "See that you do," He said sternly and again started for the door.

"Sir…your Honor….?" Bud didn't want the Judge to think he was backsliding, trying to provide an excuse or annoy him, but he wanted to ask…he didn't know exactly, he just wanted some kind of assurance – any kind of assurance that things would be okay.

Judge Clifford Blakely was uncharacteristically emotional as he faced Harriet Sims' husband. "I know what you are trying to say Lieutenant; all we can do is wait, hope…and pray."

Once Blakely left the room to go talk to Lieutenant Roberts, Harm turned to the Bubblehead. "Sturgis cut Bud some slack; surely you understand what must be going through his mind right now."

Sturgis was unmoved by Harm's plea. It was typical of Harm to come to Bud's aid. "What I understand Harm, is that what I said to you about Bud before you left on your Chaco Boreal adventure has been justified. The Lieutenant isn't ready to resume his duties."

"Sturgis you have got to be kidding!" Mac blurted out, her eyebrows climbing into her hairline. "The man is worried sick about his wife! Harm's right; why don't you cut him some slack?"

Sturgis rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Would you two listen to each other? You make him sound like a little brother that accidentally broke the living room window with his baseball! You've got to let the man grow up!"

"You're not going to press charges, are you?" Harm speculated.

Mac crossed her arms and scowled at Commander Turner. "Of course he is Harm, after all Bud has to pay for his sins…."

Sturgis gave both of them a grim, humorless smile. "I was waiting for this Colonel; you and Harm favor the Lieutenant…to his detriment, I might add."

Now it was Harm's turn to be surprised. "To his detriment? Oh come off it Sturg, we do not coddle Bud."

The Marine light Colonel returned the man's sarcastic smile with one of her own. "Commander why don't you take a lesson from me and turn the other cheek? You don't see me bringing that Sea Stallion pilot, Captain Casey, up on charges…."

That stung. The former submariner dug in his heels regarding his position. "Bud has to learn that there are consequences for his actions…."

Mac had been waiting for him to say this. "And let me guess; you're just the man to teach him, right Sturgis? Bud's right; you've been on his case practically from day

one-"

The Bubblehead stepped on her inflammatory comments to make his point with Harm. After all, he'd listen to reason. Mac sure wasn't going to at this point. "To make him a better officer, Colonel, which is more than I can say that you and Harm are doing for him."

Now Harm was becoming ticked with his friend's high handed judgment. "Now wait just a minute Sturgis, we've mentored Bud a lot longer than you have-"

"And who made you his mentor anyway, Sturgis?" added Mac snidely.

The former COMSUBPAC Force Judge Advocate presented his evidence. "Well since you two were tied up in this 'do we or don't we' dance, someone had to take over…."

Mac didn't flinch. She could give as good as she got. "And you were that someone, right?"

"Yes Colonel; I was and still am." the Bubblehead affirmed sternly.

Mac threw out a disgusted laugh. "Well Harm, there you go. Super Preacher's Kid is going to take care of growing up our little Bud."

Harm wasn't sure her comments were helping the situation, despite the fact that Commander Turner needed to be taken down a peg or two. "Mac, you don't mean that…."

Yes she did. She wanted Sturgis Turner to understand just how full of himself he sounded. "No Harm, he's done such a great job so far, let's let him finish, so we can come in and clean up the mess!"

Now the situation was out of control. "Mac…"

"You can stay here if you like, Harm, and try to reason with the Navy's Yoda," she gave the former submariner her angriest glare, "but you can do it without me!"

Mac stormed over to the office door opened it and slammed so hard the bang echoed throughout the room. Harm was at loss as to what to do. The more he thought about it, the more he didn't like his old academy mate's comments. Despite not exactly being pleased with Mac and her catty remarks, the smugness and superior attitude that radiated from the Bubblehead's comments was stoking his ire.

Harm looked back at his old friend. "Sturgis I never thought I would say this, but lay off of Bud. I mean it." He warned.

"Or what Harm?" He baited the former Top gun. Sturgis was so tired of Harm coming to the aid of that crazy Jarhead and the fumbling Bud Roberts.

Harm's blue eyes blazed with indignation and anger. "Or you and I are going to finish that fight we started in the Academy that Jack and Luke wouldn't let us finish."

Sturgis hadn't wanted this to happen. "Harm...buddy…listen…."

Harm shook his head. When his anger was aroused, Harmon Rabb was a force to be reckoned with. "No Sturgis; you pushed him, and us, too far this time. I don't know what the Admiral said to you after I left, but you need to seriously re-think how you deal with all of us if you are going to have any friends remaining at JAG, ole buddy."

And with that, Harm walked over to the door and exited, leaving Sturgis Turner alone with his thoughts.

"Admiral?" AJ turned to see the head of the Fleet Anti-Terrorist Team moving toward him. The Lieutenant crouched down next to the JAG. "Sir, we've searched the 190th and 200th blocks of Stovall; we couldn't find any anyone else alive." It was obvious from the chagrined look on the man's face that he wanted to give AJ more positive news.

"How many did you find?" asked the JAG as he scanned the buildings across the street.

"Roughly two squads' worth of bad guys between here and the 160th block, Sir." replied the Lieutenant reluctantly. The last man he wanted to give bad news to was a Rear Admiral.

At that moment Jethro Gibbs moved next to AJ. "Admiral, Lieutenant."

Admiral Chegwidden gave the man an icy stare. "Special Agent Gibbs; I had hoped we wouldn't meet again."

Gibbs was unfazed. "Likewise Sir, but I guess the terrorists had other ideas."

AJ looked at the buildings across street again, ignoring the two men. "The Lieutenant tells me they have cleared all the terrorists out of all the buildings around here. What do you think, Special Agent Gibbs?"

Gibbs scanned the area AJ was observing. The trained Marine sniper in the man quickly assessed the situation. "I would say he is wrong Sir."

AJ turned and gave the man a wry smirk. "What makes you say that?"

"The fact we are still taking sniper fire, Admiral." said the silver haired NCIS agent in a professional tone. "Angle of trajectory indicates they are moving around in those buildings across the street, looking for targets of opportunity."

The FAST Lieutenant was indignant. After all, he had been there with his men when they went into those buildings. Just what kind of powers of observation did this man have that his men didn't.

"Just what makes you think-"

AJ gave the man a veiled smile. "How long have you been in the Marines, son?"

"Graduated from OCS last December Sir, and TBS and FAST training this spring." He replied confidently.

Jethro began to grin. It was the kind of smile he gave when some was obviously out of their league.

AJ resumed looking at the buildings. "Former Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs was part of a surveillance and target acquisition platoon during the first Gulf War under Colonel William D. Ryan, Lieutenant." He turned to face the surprised FAST leader. "You might want to listen to the man."

The Lieutenant didn't know. "Sorry Gunny, I had no idea-"

"It's okay, Lieutenant." Gibbs said paternally to the anti-terrorist team leader. "Let's see if we can resolve the Admiral's sniper problem…."

"Aye Gunny," the man said soberly.

In the ZNN studios dramatic music played. On a nearby monitor could be seen a freeze frame shot of the damaged Welles building with the words "Terrorist Attack on JAG Headquarters" splashed across it.

The director signaled to the on-air anchorwoman. They were going live in four, three, two, one….

He motioned that cameras were rolling and millions were tuning in. On the studio monitor one could see smoke and flames starting to percolate from the shattered building in a mini-cam shot obviously made by Pam Somers' film crew.

The anchorwoman began her somber voiceover. "You are looking at live footage of the Welles Building better known as JAG Headquarters which has been under assault by an unknown terrorist group. The attack began around 3:30 p.m. eastern daylight time. Our own Pam Somers was in the area on another assignment when the fighting broke out. Pam? What's the latest?"

Pam had regained some of her cool professionalism. A Marine in full body armor and similarly attired SWAT team member moved past her.

"The area around JAG Headquarters, in Falls Church, Virginia resembles a war zone today as an alleged Al-Qaeda suicide squad staged a daring daylight assault against the facility just twenty minutes ago. Military personnel at the facility were able to beat off the assault, but not without cost. At last count, there are unofficially fifteen dead and twice that many wounded, Tina."

Tina shifted in her seat and leaned in closer. Her co-anchor a man with chiseled looks and slicked back brown hair spoke up. A look of concern etched on his face. "Do you have any idea who the dead are Pam? Have any of the terrorists been caught yet?"

"Not that we know of, Brad. As far as who's been killed, no names have been released at this point, however we can see several dead civilians and military personnel around the main gate of the Welles building from where we are located."

Now it was Tina's turn again. "Thank you Pam," she turned to the camera. "That was Pam Somers reporting live from outside the Welles building. Brad?"

"Thank you Tina," Brad said tersely, "We now have in our studios a man who is familiar with the Welles building and the current Judge Advocate General, Rear Admiral Albert Jethro Chegwidden. We have with us former Secretary of the Navy, Alexander Nelson. Mr. Nelson, thank you for joining us."

Alexander Nelson cleared his throat as he adjusted his clip mike. "Thank you for having me, Brad, Tina."

Tina turned to face the former SecNav. "Mr. Nelson what can you tell us about the Welles building security and the area around facility?"

"Well Tina, JAG Headquarters moved to Falls Church at my request in the winter of 1996. It's a suburban area, but not far from several other federal facilities."

"How defensible is this area, Mr. Nelson?" asked Brad.

"Very Brad; given enough warning. What you also must remember is that the Judge Advocate General, Rear Admiral Albert Jethro Chegwidden, has a company sized security unit at the Welles building, trained for every contingency."

On the monitor showing Nelson, a recent photograph of the JAG appeared in the upper right hand corner.

"Is it true that Admiral Chegwidden has a reputation of employing legal officers who are former combat soldiers?" inquired Tina.

"Yes, several of his top lawyers are either dual duty or officers with combat experience…."

Brad looked at his notes for a moment and then back at Nelson. "That would include naval Commander Harmon Rabb, Junior?" The aviator/lawyer's picture appeared next.

If the former SecNav was irritated, he didn't let it show. "Yes; in fact when Commander Rabb asked to return to active combat duty back in 1999, I let him do so." Nelson seemed to sound proud of this fact.

"Is it possible that this terrorist group is part of Kabir Atef's terrorist cell seeking revenge?"

Nelson's smile grew a little strained. He laughed gently. "No, Tina; there are several Al-Qaeda leaders who have expressed an interest in attacking targets in the DC area."

Brad leapt on this juicy tidbit. "Do you know who these leaders are, Mr. Nelson?"

"I'm not at liberty to say, Brad." Nelson answered smugly.

Now it was Brad's turn to offer a strained smile. "Well thank you for talking with us, Mr. Nelson."

"My pleasure Brad, I'm sure you share my hope that Admiral Chegwidden and his staff survive this relatively unscathed."

Hammad dropped down from the fire escape into the alleyway below. As he stood there, a second man began climbing down the fire escape. Hammad reached up and helped the man down.

"Do you remember what you are supposed to do?" he asked.

The man nodded. "Yes Hammad."

"Good," said the suicide platoon leader as he began to pull at his grey wig, revealing black crew cut hair underneath. "Remember Nasir, I am counting on you." Hammad, using a cloth and some solvent, rubbed at his aged face, revealing young skin under the thick theatrical makeup.

"I know Hammad," Nasir's voice was wavering with emotion. "I will not fail you."

Hammad gave the man a gentle smile. "I know Nasir," He looked up as a CH-46 Sea Knight helicopter roared overhead. "I need to contact the reserve squad. You go back up to the roof and continue leading the main squad. Victory will be ours."

A Seahawk Medevac touched down in the JAG Headquarters courtyard. AJ halfway expected the helo to be peppered by sniper fire, but he should have known that the FAST team, lead by Gibbs, would neutralize the harassing fire.

Two corpsmen scrambled out of the helicopter and ran over to assist the stretcher crews carrying Tiner, Coates and Gadsden. AJ and Webb watched as the three were hustled aboard.

Next, Gunny helped carry Cassie Ramirez's stretcher to the waiting Seahawk, its blades still turning in case they had to make a fast getaway.

"You're gonna be okay Cassie," said Gunny tenderly to her as he helped them load her on board.

"I'm …holding you to that…Gunny," she smiled weakly at him.

One the Corpsman looked up from examining Tiner. "I've got a bleeder on the Senior Petty Officer!" he yelled to the pilot, "We've got to get to Bethesda now!"

Gunny stumbled back as the helo lifted into the sky. He and the other defenders watched as the Seahawk stopped its upward movement and began heading at top speed toward Maryland.

Victor looked over at the JAG. "Admiral, I'm leading a squad out to meet the relief

force." It wasn't a request, but at this point AJ wasn't going to stop him either.

Admiral Chegwidden merely nodded as Gunny gathered a squad together from the surviving JAG Corps personnel.

Ashton Briggs stood looking at his senior staff. "I just got word from the Pentagon gentlemen, all US military forces both here in Iraq and around the world, are to go to Threatcon Alpha and prepare for combat operations." He turned to Darcy. "Livingston, I need your Force Recon troops to begin scouting operations in preparation for an offensive. The gloves are coming off."

"Aye, aye Sir." she replied. It was all going according to plan. She had to get back to alert Jac that the time was quickly approaching when they would be able to put this trial to an end once and for all and get these meddlesome JAGs out of the way before they spoiled everything.

Ashton turned to his XO. "Baxter, get our combat team ready. I want them to be standing by to move out when Washington gives the word."

"Aye Sir." His executive officer answered firmly.

Colonel Briggs turned to the rest of his staff. "Dismissed."

"Aye, aye, Sir." They chorused.

As the senior MEU staff broke ranks and began to file out the door, Ashton stopped his XO. He waited until everyone had left the room before speaking.

Briggs motioned for Andrew to sit down. "How are they, XO?"

"The men Sir?" Baxter replied, curious where the 36th's CO was going with this. "Nervous, angry, itching for revenge, and showing concern for the JAGs…."

That raised Ashton's eyebrows.

"Well Sir," Baxter explained, "even though these legal eagles may be raising hackles across the MEU with their court proceedings, deep down the men know they are on the same side as we are. The Al-Qaeda have crossed a line, just like they did on nine eleven."

Ashton Briggs gave the man a thin smile. "Which is precisely why I ordered Darcy to send her recon troops north; to find out what part the Fedayeen are playing in this. We know they have bases north of here."

"Yes Sir, are we going to hit them with everything we've got?" It was a logical question considering the circumstances.

The MEU CO shook his head. "No Colonel, that's just what Saddam's Fedayeen and the Al-Qaeda would want us to do; come out swinging blindly – laying waste to the countryside and alienating more of the locals. No, the Pentagon wants us to sit tight and probe quietly."

That surprised Baxter. Briggs sounded more lucid than he had in weeks.

Briggs got up and walked over to the map of Iraq on his wall. "You see, those JAGs struck a nerve somewhere around here. Darcy may be a woman, but she's got a warrior's instincts. She'll find out who started this mess and then we're going to go in and cut that cancer out."

Andrew Baxter knew his CO was right. Darcy Livingston may be a woman, but she was a good leader and smart enough to let her men do fighting while she stayed out of harm's way. Plus she was a damn good tactician. If anyone could get Al-Sahood and band of thugs out of their holes in the ground, it was Darcy's troops.

"And the preparations we're doing are to keep the men focused?"

Briggs turned away from the map and nodded again. "Precisely XO. I want them razor sharp when the bad guys tweak us again and believe me, they will. They are spoiling for a fight and this time, we're going to make them fight by our rules, not theirs."

The Executive Officer of the MEU asked the obvious question. "What about the court proceedings? Where do they fit in, in all this?"

Briggs sat down again. "I talked with Judge Blakely a little while ago. He's delaying proceedings for 24 hours. Considering what has happened, it'll give the JAG a chance to get their feet back under them and enable them to hold off having NCIS nose around here."

Again, Andrew Baxter wondered what Briggs' obsession was about keeping NCIS from joining the investigation. It seemed to him that their joining the investigation would wrap it up more quickly. "I don't understand Colonel, why don't you want NCIS around here?"

Briggs made a sour face. "Morale Baxter, plain and simple. You and I both know that hot head Lukens is responsible for Dodge's death and the sooner we get him off the line and into the brig permanently, the sooner morale will improve around here. Those JAGs may be a pain in the backside, but they can get this problem resolved quickly and quietly. With NCIS here, it'll become a circus just like it did with that first investigation. I don't want a repeat of that."

Lieutenant Colonel Baxter wasn't sure that was NCIS's fault, but the JAGs did have reputation for quietly handling sensitive problems and the Dodge murder case certainly qualified for that kind of treatment.

"Those are Admiral Chegwidden's top troubleshooters Baxter," he added mirroring his XO's thoughts. "They'll get the job done and we can get on with the business of fighting this war."

Harm knocked before opening the door to Mac's quarters. Usually he waited to hear her acknowledgement, but he was worried about her and not thinking very clearly at the moment. Her outburst may have been fueled by Sturgis Turners' comments about all three of them but he had a feeling something else was stoking this anger.

As he opened the door, he saw her sitting at her desk, her back to him.

"What do you want Harm?" she said stiffly without turning around.

The naval Commander stopped just inside the door. "To see how you were doing, Mac," He said cautiously. "You know, those were some pretty savage barbs you tossed at Sturgis…."

Mac turned around to face him. "Well he deserved them, Harm. As for me, I'm doing just dandy for someone who lost a hearing, is worried sick about my friends back at JAG, and itching to tear someone's head off."

Harm blanched. "You're not including me in this as a part of the problem, are you Mac?"

Mac looked down and nervously played with her hands. When she looked up she had a pained expression on her face which telegraphed 'how could you be thinking this?' "No Harm, I'm not. What made you think that?" Her pretty brown eyes were laced with curiosity.

Harm sighed and crossed his arms. "Because right now I'm not sure what you, the Admiral or anyone else for that matter is expecting of me, Mac."

That shocked her. The Marine attorney knew Harm had been fighting other demons besides the nightmares currently plaguing both of them, but she hadn't realized that the former Top gun was still feeling like he was on the outside looking in. She thought his comments during the video conference with the Admiral had been part of the act.

"So I guess you *are* sorry you came back to JAG…." The Marine attorney felt Harm backing away from her again. That frightened her – worse than his wanting to form a more serious relationship. Her mouth felt dry, she didn't want to hear what he was going to say next.

Harm sighed again and walked over to her and cupped her face in his large hands. "I don't know, Mac. So much has changed in the last six months…I don't know if I'm coming or going. I mean, I've gone from being an active duty navy lawyer and reserve

duty pilot, to nearly being sent to Leavenworth for murder, to resigning my commission and becoming a pilot for the CIA. Then being fired and coming back to JAG, I'm thrown into a what looks like a friendly fire case on the surface, but when you start digging…you find there are lots of people who would rather you just sign off on the original finding and leave it at that."

Mac shook her head. "Harm, we discussed this, remember? I believe you; there is something more going on here than a friendly fire case. You've a got plan, or at least that's what you told me….

"That was before this terrorist attack MacKenzie," Harm said as he took his hands away from her face and walked away from her. "I underestimated our adversaries…."

Mac reached for him, stopping his movement away from her. "Harm, what happened at JAG is not your fault or mine. This was caused by whoever is trying to disrupt these proceedings-"

She stopped when she saw the haunted look in his eyes.

"There's more isn't there? My butting heads with Sturgis…you blame me for that, don't you?"

"I did, at first," Now it was Mac's turn to back away. Harm reached out and gently snagged her arm. "But no, I don't blame you. Sturgis ticked both of us off. I shouldn't be surprised that your reaction was stronger than mine. It's just that the more we dig into what happened to Dodge, the more convoluted things become…."

Mac was still focused on her tenuous relationship with her partner. "Even between us?"

Harm lowered his head, not daring to look into her pretty eyes. "Yes Mac, even between us. My life is a constant surprise to me lately. I need some stability somewhere."

Stability. Something that they had both wished for and wanted, since their feelings for each other started to surface such a long time ago. Mac knew what he meant. She was ready for a stronger relationship with him, but not that…not yet anyway.

Internally Mac the Marine was struggling with Sarah MacKenzie. "Harm, I want stability too. I told Sturgis once that my life is like an earthquake; just when I think things are settled, something comes along and jumbles everything up. I hate to admit it, but you've been the one constant in life recently." She folded her arms and walked away from him. Staring listlessly out the window. "I just don't know if I'm ready to take that step yet Harm. It scares me, do you understand? I don't want you to leave, but I don't think I'm ready for that next step yet…."

It wasn't a rejection, but it was less than Harm wanted to hear from her at this particular moment. Maybe it was his hormones on overdrive, she did that to him. Maybe it had to do with finding some comfort after that terrorist attack. Harm wasn't sure.

One thing he did know though; he couldn't give up on this crazy Jarhead attorney, even if he wanted to. He walked over to her and without thinking, wrapped his arms around her. "Okay Ninja-girl. I guess you're right; this attack…it threw me off balance. I just…I just…."

Mac stiffened initially when he put his arms around her. But the warmth of his touch, the hardness of his body against hers, nearness of his face to hers, and the ticklish sensation his deep voice gave her ears, made her melt into his arms. She sighed deeply and for a moment forgot everything else going on around them.

"I know," she said quietly. "Me too, Flyboy."

They stood that way for…Mac actually forgot how long they stood there. She loved being this close to him.

Then Mac the Attorney had a thought. "Harm?"

"Mm hmm?" he murmured lazily.

"Remember what you said to me the night before?"

Harm chuckled, "Mac I said a lot of things the night before…you did too, as I remember…."

"About the case, Harm. Just before we got uh, distracted. You had asked why it was so important for Lukens and Buell to take the fall for Dodge's death….

"Yeah?" Now the lawyer in Harmon Rabb was stirring again.

"I started to say there was this so-called expert…."

"You mean the kid Colonel Livingston brought over from the States…Corporal…."

"Danvers…," she finished for him. "Kayce Danvers, Harm. Remember, the Colonel said she was an expert…."

They slowly, reluctantly broke their embrace. "…I remember, an expert rifleman. Do you think she was there to poke holes in your evidence about a Barrett sniper rifle bringing down Lieutenant Lukens' gunship?"

"Maybe Harm," Mac said as she began to pace. "Maybe she was there to throw the scent off of our good Captain Lewis."

"What are you saying Mac?" The aviator/lawyer was curious how the Marine Attorney was able to change her mind and now begin to imagine how they could get Lewis.

"I've been thinking about what you said yesterday," Mac stopped and looked at him, "about Lewis and Livingston. I went back and re-read my notes. Lewis is tied to each of the people involved Harm."

"So is Livingston," Harm injected.

"More remotely yes," she replied dryly, "But Lewis has a direct connection with each person involved in this mess."

Harm knew what she was thinking.

"Maaac," he warned, "You were the one that said-"

She gave him a mordant smile. "—And I was wrong, Navy. We may not have anything on Livingston, but Lewis is different…."

"Really?" He intoned, "What do you want to do with him, Marine?"

Mac looked Harm straight in the eyes. "I want to shoot him is what I want to do."

What happened to his logical, rational thinking Marine? "Maaac,"

Mac blew out an irritated breath. "Harm this guy is the lowest of the low; he's tied up in this mess, yet manages to keep all the dirt off him. Even worse than that, he hides behind a Marine uniform."

Harm understood what she was feeling. It was the same way he felt about Darcy Livingston. However, he also now understood just how dangerous they both were.

"Mac, he's a piranha; he'll spot you gunning for him before you get within a hundred feet. He'll kill you before you know what's happening, Marine, and make it look like someone else did it!"

It was not just the fact that the Captain could probably pin Mac's murder on him given the fireworks between them lately; it was obvious to him, if not anyone else, that he didn't want to risk losing her.

Mac knew what her partner was implying. Still, it would take more than that to derail her. "Harm, I know what I'm doing, I can handle this-

He grabbed her arms pulling her close so that she could see the concern in his gorgeous blue eyes. "-And so can he, Mac. Listen to me; he's dangerous."

She pulled away from his grip. She hated it when he did this to her. Her normal response would have been to take his comment as challenge. Now things were different between them, and she wanted to see things from his point of view. In addition, Harm had always been good at scrambling her emotions, just like she was good at scrambling his.

"Okay Counselor, you made your point," she conceded, "Now what is this fantastic plan you mentioned to me yesterday, you know, something about getting Commander Coulter and Special Agent Gibbs involved…?"

Harm looked at his watch. "I'm way ahead of you MacKenzie," Harm punched the buttons on his cell phone. "You think Captain Lewis is dirty, well so do I, but I also think Colonel Livingston is just as much involved as Lewis, maybe more. Commander Coulter is going to help us with that."

Mac was exasperated with his one mindedness about trying to nail Darcy Livingston; it was becoming an obsession with him. "Help us? Help how Harm?"

Harm held up his hand for a moment as the open line on cell phone clicked.

"Teresa? It's Harmon Rabb…." Mac rolled her eyes at the silky smooth way that words flowed from the Commander when he talked to blondes.

"Harm? It's good to hear your voice. You heard about JAG didn't you?"

"Yeah," he said nonchalantly, "we saw the satellite feed. Have they learned anything new?"

"Nothing yet; the relief force arrived a few minutes ago according to ZNN…how's Mac taking it?"

Harm looked over at his partner. She raised an eyebrow questioningly when he looked at her. "As well as can be expected for the moment. Look Teresa, the reason I called is that I need you to do me a favor…."

"What kind of favor?" Harm smiled. Teresa was a cautious person.

"I need you to get the death records of one First Lieutenant Philip M. Dodge, Combat Engineer, 36th MEU."

"You would have better access to them than I would, Harm." She also was practical.

Harm was ready for that statement. "We would, except they transferred the originals back to Stateside; we're working with copies." Mac shook her head at his audacity.

Teresa Coulter was silent for a moment.

"That could be tricky Harm, why do you need me to do this? Wait, don't tell me, you suspect the records you have are incomplete…."

Harm knew how she felt about seeing justice done. "In your position you can get access to the full originals…."

"You suspect your client is being set up, right?"

"We know it's murder Teresa; now we're trying to figure out who really did it." Despite all their years working together, Mac was still amazed by Harm's tactics. They had mellowed over the years, but he still used smooth talking to get what he wanted.

Harm heard Teresa sigh. "Okay Harm, but this could take some time."

"The sooner the better Teresa," he pushed.

And when necessary, Harm used gentle intimidation.

In this case, it really wasn't needed. Forensic specialist Commander Coulter was on their side. "Okay Harm, I'll see what I can do. Take care, and tell Mac I said hello."

"Thanks Teresa, I will, bye."

"'You will' what Harm?" Mac asked as soon as Harm had cut the connection.

Harm secretly loved it when Mac's jealousy flared. "Tell you that Teresa said 'hello'"

"Oh." There wasn't much to say to that.

Alan Mattoni watched as the Seahawk Medevac lifted into the air. He looked back at Carolyn who was strapped to a backboard. When her eyes fluttered open, he gave her a warm smile. "Hey welcome back to the world of the living. How are you feeling?"

"Like an idiot," she sighed, "I can't believe I knocked myself out."

"No worse than any other football player that's suffered a stinger, Carolyn." He said gently.

"So that's why they have me strapped to this board." She grumbled.

"It's for your own protection, Carolyn," he explained, "They don't want to take any chances."

"You there! HALT!"

Alan's head whipped around. Standing by an open stairwell door was Staff Sergeant Jake Hilton holding a limp Seaman Hurtado in his arms. One of JAG security officers had his pistol trained on the man.

Carolyn tried unsuccessfully to crane her neck so that she could see her client. "Staff Sergeant? What are you doing?"

"Staff Sergeant," Alan said getting up slowly, "Put her down."

"It's not what it looks like, Commander." Jake said cautiously to Alan. "She tried to ambush me in the library Ma'am," he said to his defense attorney, "I had to stop her…."

The security officer kept his weapon trained on the Sergeant. Alan got up and began to slowly move toward Hilton. "Why did she try ambush you Sergeant? Tell me what happened…."

AJ, Clayton and the others stopped what they were doing and watched the unfolding drama.

"What the hell is going on over there?" the JAG asked Carly.

The Marine Major made a quick assessment of the situation. "I'm not sure Sir, but I think Commander Mattoni is handling it…."

Jake Hilton slowly, gently laid the unconscious Seaman on the ground. "She took the dead guard's gun and was going to kill me and make it look like I had tried to escape from custody Sir, Ma'am…."

Jake mused to himself…this *did* sound lame. He could tell Alan Mattoni wasn't buying it. At least he'd had the sense not to take the guard's gun….

"Where's the gun, Sergeant?" asked Alan as he moved closer.

"I left it in the library, Commander. If I had brought it with me, you would have thought I was trying to get away."

Commander Mattoni wasn't sure what Hilton was trying to accomplish, but the man didn't appear to have a weapon of any sort. Still, he could see several large contusions on Anne Hurtado's head.

"What happened to Seaman Hurtado, Sergeant?" he asked

"I pushed several legal reference books off of a shelf and onto her head," Hilton explained somewhat sheepishly. "It was the only way I could stop her."

Jake wished he hadn't knocked Anne/Dixie unconscious; then again, she probably would have lied and said he tried to kill her. At least she was handcuffed so she wouldn't be able to do any harm.

"Dixie!"

Everyone turned to see a shady looking man wearing mirrored glasses. He wore a crème colored summer suit jacket and pants, flowered shirt with a blue background and no tie. On his feet he wore brown loafers. (That had to be Joe,) reasoned Jake.

The Staff Sergeant's first impulse was to run after the man. Joe's reaction to seeing the courtyard full of armed Marines and Sailors and seeing his accomplice unconscious on the ground was to get out of there.

"Freeze!" barked the JAG security guard, "Both of you! Don't move a muscle!"

Jake, his back to the guard, stopped and raised his hands. The drug dealer wasn't about to hang around. As he started to leave a big Marine brandishing an M-16 barred his way.

Joe grimaced and slowly raised his hands.

Victor Galindez and his squad moved silently past the abandoned, bullet shattered storefronts along Stovall.

Here and there a car or SUV was being caressed by greedy flames. Spent shell casings littered the streets. Acrid smoke hung in the air.

Victor had walked these streets many a time when Administrative Head at JAG Ops, sometimes when he went out to lunch, other times on his way back to his apartment in the evenings. He had lived fairly close to the Welles facility, so often times, he just walked back and forth to work.

"Gunny!" hissed a Seaman acting as the Point for his squad, "Humvees are coming down the street toward us!"

"Must be the Quick Reaction Force from Eighth and I," Victor motioned to the rest of the squad. "Let's go meet them."

-TBC…


	38. Chapter 37

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 37

Ahmad heard the distinctive engine noises of the approaching Humvees. Hammad had told them in their briefing to expect the American Marines to launch a rescue operation to save their fellow soldiers.

Their u-shaped ambush was ready. Ahmad nodded to his two snipers. The Americans would soon learn first-hand what happened to the Russians in Groznyy.

"Gunny! I see them!" called out a PFC excitedly.

"Wave them this way," replied the former JAG Ops Admin Officer.

The first Hum-vee drove into view and roared past Ahmad's unit. It was quickly followed by a second, and a third. Ahmad looked over at his second in command.

Gunny scanned the first approaching Hum-vee. The man in the machine gun mount called down to the driver to stop. The other HMMWVs behind him slowed.

"You from JAG Headquarters?" the soldier asked. By the look on his face and the tone in his voice Victor could tell the man didn't believe him. In the heat of battle Gunny forgot that he was wearing civilian clothes.

"I'm Gunnery Sergeant Victor Galindez," he said in as an authoritative voice as he could muster, "I'm attached to 2nd Force Recon-"

"You're a long way from Baghdad Gunny-"

The first sniper's bullet smashed into the driver's side windscreen of the soldier's Hum-vee. That was quickly followed by a RPG round knocking the second HMMWV on its side.

"GET OUT OF HERE!" barked Gunny. The soldier's HMMWV roared past Gunny's rag tag squad. The soldier had turned around in his hatch and was firing at the wildly at the buildings as his driver zigzagged down Stovall toward the Welles Building.

"JENKINS! SANDERS! SUPRESSIVE FIRE ON THOSE BALCONIES!"

The two Squad Automatic gunners that accompanied Victor opened fire simultaneously on the buildings to the left and right of the convoy. The PFC and Seaman helped the wounded Hum-vee crew to safety as bullets whacked and pinged off the asphalt. The third HMMWV had stopped firing as its gunner lay slumped over the truck's hard top. Despite having bullet flattened right rear and left front tires, it rolled forward past Gunny and his squad.

Gibbs, Tony and the FAST team broke into a run at the sound of renewed gunfire.

"There!" barked one of the enlisted FAST team members. He pointed toward

Stovall.

Gibbs exchanged a quick glance with the FAST Lieutenant. The terrorists were attacking the Quick Reaction force from 8th and I.

Gibbs knew the terrorists were probably using an inverted U ambush formation. The only way to stop the assault was to flank the ambush unit from both sides simultaneously.

The FAST Lieutenant knew what he was thinking. "I'll take half the team and the hit right side…."

Gibbs nodded grimly; as the Lieutenant and half the team headed across the street, the senior lead NCIS agent started to look back over his shoulder.

"Right behind you boss," replied Anthony DiNozzo anticipating Gibbs' order.

Joe shook his head disgustedly as the court officer bound his hands with plastic cuffs. "Man, I don't believe this!" he swore.

Jake lowered his hands as Alan walked over to him.

"My client has surrendered voluntarily Counselor," called out Carolyn from her backboard, "That should be taken into account when the trial resumes."

Alan smirked, "I'll take it under advisement Commander," He eyed the Staff Sergeant, "So what happened, Sergeant?"

Jake looked over at Anne Hurtado being looked over by the Corpsman. "She told him she was going to kill me Sir. She had to make sure I was dead…." he began not really sure if he understood it all himself.

Alan's stare was hard and unfeeling. "Why Staff Sergeant? Why did she want to kill you?"

"I don't know Sir," he said looking back at the drug dealer, "Maybe it was part of the plan – he killed Stacie and then the Seaman would frame me for it-"

"You big lummox," Joe snorted as he gave the man a sinister smile.

Both the JAG Attorney and the defendant turned toward him. "Boy Jarhead, have you *ever* got it wrong."

Jake didn't tolerate taunting very well –especially not from lowlifes like this creep. "What do you mean?" the Staff Sergeant snapped.

Alan was about to rein him in when Joe's statement spewed forth.

He laughed sarcastically as he spat out his confession. "You have some imagination there *Sergeant*! Dixie's the real mastermind in all this you lunkhead; not me. All I had to do was lure poor little drug dependent Stacie out into the open, away from you and Dixie told me she'd take care of the rest!"

"You're lying!" Jake lunged toward Joe who took a step back

"Staff Sergeant Hilton!" Carolyn, temporarily forgetting what had happened to her, tried to get up.

"At ease Staff Sergeant!" barked Alan. Jake's training immediately kicked in and he restrained himself. "What are you talking about, Mr. Gaddis? Who's Dixie?"

Joe Gaddis straightened his clothes and sniffed indignantly at Marine and the JAG Corps attorney. "Dixie's the woman ole Gentle Ben here handcuffed."

"Seaman Hurtado?"

"Yeah, you dumb jerk, don't you get it yet? Sweet little innocent Dixie, sorry, Anne, wanted ole Jakie here gone from her ship. And the best way she figured on accomplishing that was by killing his little druggie sweetheart and framing him for it."

"For drugs?" said Alan not giving in to the man's baiting.

"Of course for the drugs man," Joe was enjoying his newfound attention – it might even get him off with a lesser sentence he figured. "She couldn't have him finding out and muscling into her territory, cutting into her profit margin."

He focused on Jake Hilton, again sneering at his ignorance. "She knew that you knew. Luckily she found out your main squeeze liked to do lines. It was so simple from there."

All the blood drained from Jake Hilton's face. Alan knew the Marine was half a minute from exploding.

"Easy Sergeant," he cautioned. Alan looked back at Joe Gaddis.

"Are you willing to testify to this in court?"

"…and get his butt 'a get out of jail free card'?" Joe said incredulously and then he began nodding as he understood this could be his ticket out. "Yeah, sure, why not? But only if it helps me man, if you know what I mean."

Alan Mattoni found what he had next to say was distasteful and went against everything he had ever learned about justice but he knew it was only so he could reel this slime in and put him away for a long, long time. He looked over at Carolyn. They had worked together for so long that she immediately understood what he was going to do.

She nodded her agreement.

"I think we can work something out Mr. Gaddis."

AJ watched as Alan and Carolyn diffused what had been a tense situation. (I'm glad the SecNav approved them coming back here TAD). He watched as Commander Mattoni led the unsteady Jake Hilton back to Carolyn Imes' side.

(It's always a stunner when you find someone you love is not the person they say they are,) the JAG thought as he watched Commander Imes' comforting his client. He wondered if Meredith had seen the news yet.

AJ worried that she might try something foolish like making her way down here to be with him. He prayed that wasn't the case. (Please let her still be teaching class….) Not so much out of concern for her wellbeing but because in all likelihood she would try to do something just like that.

"Clear!" bellowed Tony as he raised his smoking pistol. In the corner of the third story room, two dead terrorists were slumped by their automatic rifles.

"I got two more dead down here Agent DiNozzo," reported a Corporal from the FAST team.

The former Baltimore police detective spoke into his headpiece. "Boss?"

"I heard you DiNozzo," came back the sarcastic reply through his headset "And the Corporal's report."

Gibbs was staring at two more dead terrorists sprawled in front of him.

Gunnery Sergeant Galindez looked up at the building. A few minutes before, automatic fire had been pouring from its shattered upper floor windows. Now silence reigned.

Gunny signaled to Petty Officer to take care of the wounded Marine hanging out of the idling Hum-vee from the reaction force. The navy noncommissioned officer began trying to help the man back into the cab of the truck.

Gunny motioned to a clerk from Records to follow his lead. Both men sprinted across the asphalt to the shattered entrance of the building.

As they were about to enter the building, they were met by soldier clad in black neoprene.

"Are you Gunnery Sergeant Victor Galindez?" the man asked the two bewildered JAG Corps soldiers

"Who's asking?" said Gunny suspiciously. He still wasn't sure this wasn't one of the terrorists.

The man nodded. Given what had happened today, he completely understood the man's suspicion. "Sergeant Burns, FAST team, USS Valley Forge."

During the lull in the fighting, Special Agent Clayton Webb had taken the opportunity to call Langley.

He closed his phone with a snap and looked over the JAG. "Admiral, we have to find the stragglers. They could tell us more about who ordered this attack."

AJ couldn't believe what he was hearing. "And put more of *my people* in danger?" His eyes glinted dangerously, "You'd better be pulling my leg, *Mr. Webb*."

Clayton was not going to be bullied this time. The stakes were too high. "Admiral, if Hammad Faoud al Harib was behind this operation like we believe he was, he has at least one more suicide squad out there, somewhere. If those survivors get away, they could launch another assault. We have to find them."

AJ looked for a moment at the CIA Agent. "Seaman."

The radio-telephone soldier looked up at the JAG who was still staring at the CIA Agent. "Yes Sir?"

AJ kept his steel gaze on Porter and Neville's son. "Tell the FAST team and NCIS to continue their sweeping operations and tell Major Clemons and Commander Burford to have their teams join ours as soon as they are relieved. We're going to sweep the nearby buildings until we find these bastards!"

"Aye Sir!"

AJ turned back to Clayton Webb. (Whatever op this spook has in mind-) The JAG stopped in mid-thought. The little sneak had disappeared. He blew out a frustrated sigh and swore under his breath.

"The operation was a success," said Hammad into his cell phone as he walked along briskly. He easily kept up with the crowd of people being evacuated by heavily armed Marines and police officers. The terrorist could see that the government had pulled law enforcement officers from the surrounding DC, Maryland and Northern Virginia area forces.

The voice on the other end wasn't as impressed. "ZNN reports say only a handful of American soldiers were killed; I expected more from an undertaking such as this, Hammad."

The young Arab man smirked as he passed a frightened looking business woman who was clutching her briefcase like a shield.

"My brother, the fallout is just beginning. Sadik Fahd's foolish Stinger operation was doomed to failure. The man was too much about making grand statements. Fahd's Stinger operation may have failed, but we were able to strike terror into the heart of Washington with our assault on Judge Advocate General's Headquarters'."

"Do not be too proud Hammad," the man sharply admonished, "Pride is a sin of the vain. What about your other operation?"

"A temporary delay." The terrorist said as he passed a concerned young woman carrying her child. He gave the child a smile. The child innocently smiled back.

"Did you get the book back?"

Hammad smiled again. "It was not necessary; we destroyed the Judge Advocate General's office in the assault. As we speak, fire is consuming the building. You can see it for yourself on ZNN."

Further back in the crowd, Clayton Webb was listening to his cell phone through his earbud. "He's on this block?"

"Yes Sir," replied the CTIN technician at Langley. "He's about 1000 feet ahead of you."

Clayton scanned the crowd. All he could see in front of him was a mass of humanity. He struggled to push his way forward.

"I wish you a safe journey Hammad," the voice said.

"Thank you brother Samir," Hammad said warmly and then he cut the connection. The terrorist spotted a wire trash bin. As his group filed past, he erased the last message and tossed the cell phone into the can.

Following close behind him, two teenage boys eyed this act of seemingly extravagant waste. When they passed by the can, one fished it out while the other made sure no one was able to see what his friend was doing.

"C'mon man, let's go." His friend begged while looking around nervously.

"Hold it a sec," the trash bin diver looked at the face of the phone. "All right! It's got at least 200 more minutes on it." He began dialing the number of a local X-rated cinema.

"Let's duck down this alley," his friend suggested.

"FREEZE!"

Special Agent Webb and two Marines ran down the darkened alleyway toward the two.

"Aw man!"

Clayton ran up breathlessly. "Where did you get that?" he managed to huff out, pointing at the cell phone.

"What do you care?" said trash bin diver sullenly.

"Look, I don't have time for your smart mouth, you jerk!" The CIA Agent growled, "Now where is the man who was using this phone!"

Trash diver's partner in crime knew these Marines and this armed man in rumpled leisure suit weren't here just for show.

"He took off through the crowd after he ditched the phone."

"Dammit!" Clayton looked back out at the crowd going down the street.

Another sea gray Boeing Vertrol CH-46 Sea Knight settled onto the asphalt just north of the shattered Welles building. A fully armed squad of Marines doubled timed it into the JAG compound.

The Captain stopped in front of the JAG and saluted. "Captain Paul Goins, Admiral, where do you want us to set up?"

He was young and eager to please. (Probably never seen combat before in his life….) thought AJ sourly.

AJ gave the man a stern look. "Right here is fine Captain. Have your men set up your defensive positions in front of the garden area."

"Aye, aye, Sir!" He returned smartly to the Rear Admiral.

He motioned quickly to the Platoon Sergeant. "Gunny! Get the men to set up interlocking fields of fire in this garden!"

"Aye, aye Cap'n!"

He turned to the soldiers who were surveying the mess that used to be the Welles building. "ALL RIGHT! STOP YOUR GAWKING AND GET YOUR SIXES IN GEAR LADIES! I DON'T WANT TO SEE ANY FACES WHILE WE SET UP! HUTTO, RICHLEY! GET THAT .50 MIKE MIKE MOUNTED ON THAT WALL, LET'S MOVE IT!"

Marines began hurriedly setting up their positions in front of JAG Headquarters next to AJ Chegwidden's bullet riddled Escalade and the other damaged cars of the JAG Corps attorneys.

Overhead, more Sea Knights and a couple of Cobras roared by and above them, a pair of F-18s streaked across the sky. Their roar made any attempt at conversation worthless for the moment.

As the two jets headed south and their engine noise receded, Clayton Webb walked up to the JAG.

"Where have you been?" AJ asked.

Clayton was still somewhat breathless from his futile chase. "No time to explain. Admiral, I need to borrow Sergeant Givers, Commander Burford and Major Clemons."

AJ Chegwidden swore an oath under his breath. He should have known. "Just like that Mr. Webb?"

"We need to find Hammad Faoud al Harib." he said bluntly to the JAG. Then he realized he should probably elaborate. "We lost him just south of here. He's probably headed to join up with his reserve squad."

"You *lost* him?" AJ's voice went up an octave as his eyebrows went up.

Clayton Webb suddenly felt like he should have body armor on. "Sergeant Givers knows Al-Qaeda infantry tactics based on her work in Iraq," he quickly explained, "Both Commander Bur-"

"I don't want to hear it!" AJ snapped. If there was one thing he didn't want to listen to right now it was this SOB's pathetic explanation of why he was borrowing his officers. He knew damn well why the CIA Special Agent wanted them. They had combat experience, like the Commander and the Colonel. It was always the reason why out of all the lawyers that AJ had at JAG Corps, Webb wanted these two. Now he had two Harm and Mac substitutes and of course Webb wanted them.

"Admiral please, I really need their help." Clayton said contritely or at least what the Special Agent thought was contritely.

John Burford, Marla Givers and Carly Clemons were making their way toward the two men.

"Burford, Givers, Clemons; Special Agent Webb needs your help; go with him."

The three soldiers looked at each other and then back at the JAG. John started to open his mouth.

"That's an order!"

The three snapped to attention. "Aye, aye, Sir!" They turned to the man in the rumpled leisure suit standing next to the Admiral in stained and dirty whites.

"We're looking for Hammad Faoud al Harib," the CIA Agent opened up a map and explained to them as the three gathered around him. "Our intelligence tells us he was the mastermind of this operation. We also have additional intelligence that indicates al-Harib is still in the area and is readying his reserve squad for another attack on the Welles Building. We believe the reserve squad is waiting for him south of here in an abandoned strip mall."

Clayton pointed to the circled area on the map as Marla held onto one end of the map while he held onto the other. AJ walked over to confer with one the Captain of another platoon that had just arrived

The three looked at the circled area and then back at the agent.

"Sir, with all due respect," said John acting as spokesman for the trio, "Why do you need us? We're lawyers. Why not use the men from the FAST team?"

Clayton was ready for this question. "The FAST team is hunting down the remnants of the squads which attacked this facility. All three of you have recent combat experience and understand better than anyone the rules of engagement necessary to capture Al-Qaeda soldiers. We need them alive at all costs."

John Burford looked at his compatriots. "You'll need more than just us Sir," replied Carly Clemons.

"Bring whomever you need," answered the Special Agent.

"Aye Sir," they replied. John and Carly walked over to their respective squads and began asking for volunteers.

For the first time today, Clayton Webb let a self-satisfied smile creep across his face. He was finally going to nail al-Harib. Maybe he missed getting Sadik Fahd, but Hammad Faoud al-Harib wouldn't slip through his hands and maybe it would lead him to Samir al-Sahood, an Al-Qaeda lieutenant and one of Saddam's former advisors.

Clayton almost didn't see AJ Chegwidden standing beside him.

"Don't worry Admiral-" he began jocularly until AJ grabbed him by the lapels and pulled Clayton into his face.

"Mr. Webb," he hissed as he held the man nose to nose with him, "You bring my people back in one piece, or so help me I'll do more than break your nose…." Finished with his promise, the JAG shoved the man away from him.

Clayton Webb feigned that he wasn't frightened as straightened his tie. "With such encouragement Admiral, how can we possibly fail?"

Harm walked down the hallway of the Battalion Landing Team building. He slowed when he saw a door partway open and could hear the dramatic music reserved for ZNN breaking stories.

As he peered in he could see Sarah MacKenzie huddled over, her eyes riveted to the images on the screen. The Commander could see that the Lieutenant Colonel's face was wet with tears.

"… we now have confirmed reports of at least fifteen dead and a two dozen wounded. Those dead identified include a Fall Church patrolman Michael Low, Corporal Adrian Zweski, a guard at JAG Corps Headquarters, Seaman William Burns, a legalman in the JAG Corps offices, Sergeant Chris Fuller, JAG Corps Security, Corporal Kelly Johnson, a JAG Corps Security. Low a six year veteran with the department…."

Harm came in and stood silently behind the Marine attorney, looking at the pictures of the dead being shown. He felt ashamed at being relieved for not seeing Harriet, Tiner or Coates' pictures on the screen. Slowly, as he watched more photographs of the dead appear, he brought his hand down on Mac's shoulder. She had been nervously folding her hands and twiddling her thumbs, but when she felt his presence and the gentle reassuring pressure of his hand, Mac reached up with a tear soaked hand and took hold of his.

"…the dead terrorists have yet to be identified. Their leader though has been confirmed by intelligence officials as Hammad Faoud al-Harib. Al-Harib, a native Iraqi, known in intelligence circles as the Jaguar, is still missing. Al-Harib has been linked with Samir al-Sahood who is widely believed by intelligence officials to be one of Saddam Hussein's top foreign advisors and a member of Al-Qaeda…."

With a gentle tug, the Marine urged her navy partner to sit beside her. Harm slowly carefully sat down next to her, wanting to throw protocol out the window and just hold her in his arms. Mac for her part wished Harm would hold her and reassure her, but she'd settle for her partner to sit by her and gently squeeze her hand in reassurance that everything would be all right. Together that sat quietly in front of the television screen.

"My God Harm," she breathed as more nightmarish images flashed across the screen. ZNN was doing its job too well. She turned to her partner's face. "Harm?"

Harmon Rabb, Jr. had faced many trying times in his life. His father being shot down on Christmas Eve; the death of Gym in that Laotian jungle; sitting in the recovery room bed, realizing he had killed Mace's brother in that ramp strike; investigating Luke Pendry's crash site; viewing Diane Schonke's cold lifeless body on that gurney; being accused of murder not once, but twice; and nearly drowning in the stormy Atlantic after his plane crashed, but nothing compared to this.

He had felt some anger and sorrow when Flight 77 had plowed into the Pentagon, but this was personal. That burning building on the screen was where he worked and the bodies of those soldiers they were showing were his co-workers. Mac watched as his features hardened and a single tear trickled down his cheek. "Those bastards…." he hissed hoarsely.

The Marine attorney gently reached up with both hands and cupped his face. For a long moment they looked into each other's eyes. Then without a word, the two attorneys slipped into an embracing hug.

"Oh Harm," she said quietly through her own tears as she hugged the man she loved.

Harmon Rabb, Jr.'s tears leaked down onto her uniformed shoulder. "I'm going to get them Mac," he said with quiet determination. "I swear; I'm going to make them pay for this…."

The two continued to hug as the television continued its litany of the death and destruction on Stovall.

-TBC…


	39. Chapter 38

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 38

0145 Local

BOQ, Camp Chesty Puller

Mirbullah, Iraq

Sturgis Turner opened the door to his quarters. In his mind, he replayed what had just taken place and how it had come to this.

_I thought you were supervising; not entertaining the brain farts of a law student…_

_He's not ready…_

_Time heals all, Lieutenant…_

_Please stop following me and allow me to work it out…_

…_you and Harm favor the Lieutenant…to his detriment, I might add…_

_Well since you two were tied up in this 'do we or don't we' dance, someone had to take over…_

The Bubblehead didn't remember shutting the door as he settled into his bed, but a quick check confirmed that he had. As he settled under the covers, his mind continued to go over Harm's last words to him:

_No Sturgis; you pushed him, and us, too far this time. I don't know what the Admiral said to you after I left, but you need to seriously re-think how you deal with all of us if you are going to have any friends remaining at JAG, ole buddy…_

Harm just didn't understand.

The Admiral had told Sturgis not to worry, that he would take care of the brushfires. But that was what worried him; the Admiral wasn't saying it, but his actions told the Bubblehead that the Admiral no longer trusted Commander Turner's abilities.

All his life Sturgis Turner had had to prove he was more than a preacher's kid and he thought by going into JAG he had finally found his calling – the thing in life that would make him his own man.

It wasn't that he despised his father's calling or resented it. In fact, he was quite proud of his father being a man of God; in truth it was his father's faith that had encouraged him after his submarine career had been cut short by a moment of carelessness.

Unlike his Academy buddy Harmon Rabb losing his 'Wings', he didn't lose his 'Dolphin' badge, however being cut loose from the submarine service left him adrift in the Navy. He really didn't have any other skills. He had always wanted to make a difference, protect the good. While searching for an answer, he turned to his father for inspiration. It was that sense of right and wrong, good and evil, that lead Commander Turner into the JAG Corps.

He had excelled at it too. Not only did he find he had a passion for it, but in a way he was, like his father, doing God's work. Punishing the guilty, saving the innocent. Plus as Force Judge Advocate as COMSUBPAC at Pearl Harbor, he could still be close to his first love, submarines. It was the best of both worlds and he reveled in it.

Even when his investigative work and his lawyer abilities got him noticed by the JAG, it didn't mean the end of his visits to subs, in fact, thanks to Admiral Chegwidden's understanding of his passion for the sea, much like Admiral's unbreakable ties with the SEALs, the JAG assigned Sturgis to many of the cases that involved the silent service.

Best of all, he got another chance to prove his submariner skills when Kabir Atef tried to avenge the death of his brother Mustafa, by launching a dirty nuke missile from a rogue Russian submarine.

While Harm got the chance to play Top gun again by leading the dirty missile away from the Seahawk battle group, he used his silent service skills to track down Kabir's sub and destroy it. He even got a bronze star from the JAG for this accomplishment. It was absolution for him. Atonement for the mistake that lead to his separation from submarine life. Now he could concentrate on law skills and help mentor that young attorney that Harm and Mac were always talking about, Bud Roberts.

But then Lieutenant Jeremy Duncan and Psycoustics snuck up on him. He agreed with Mac; the jerk deserved his punishment and just maybe he let his personal passion for justice get in the way of his duty. Despite his concerns about Bud being able to handle his defense, he let him do it at Harm and Mac's urging. And Bud Roberts failed him.

Now not only was his JAG career in jeopardy, it could take him away from his first true love - permanently. He couldn't let that happen. Not at any cost. So he made a vow to himself to vigorously defend or prosecute any case that came across his desk without fear or favor. And he did. It didn't matter if his friend's feathers got ruffled, he had a job to do and he was going to do it. So why was his conscience bothering him about this case?

Why couldn't he just dispassionately prosecute Lieutenants Lukens and Buell like he was supposed to do? Somebody had to pay for Lieutenant Dodge's murder.

Maybe it had to do with what Bud said when they were flying over here on that Globemaster.

"…_how can they be so sure that these guys did it?"_

"…_the Al-Qaeda have been using captured American weapons as well as ones off the black market-how do they know that the Cobra crew is responsible?"_

Now the terrorist attack on JAG Corps Headquarters had thrown everything into disarray- his friendships with Harm, Mac, and Bud; the status of this case; and even his own thoughts about the guilt of the Cobra gunship crew.

Maybe the Al-Qaeda was responsible for Lieutenant Dodge's death. But how, and more to the point, why? Furthermore, what could he do about it? He had a case to prosecute.

Those were his orders from the JAG, and Admiral Chegwidden always wanted his lawyers to do their duty, regardless of personal feelings about the guilt or innocence of the accused. To do any less would just reinforce the Admiral's doubts about Sturgis' abilities and sever him permanently from submarines and JAG Corps.

There had to be another way. For a brief moment he considered calling Bobbie.

He just as quickly discarded that idea. Congresswoman Latham was probably on her way to the Welles facility right now trying to determine what failure had taken place that would allow such an attack. As Chairwoman on the Defense Appropriations Committee that was her job. And she loved being in the thick of it. Sure, she could use her influence to let Sturgis off the hook, but would that really solve anything?

No.

The Admiral would still have his doubts and worse still he'd see Sturgis as weak man using political influence to get him out of tough situation. The SEAL in the JAG would never allow that.

Besides, his relationship with Bobbie was fading. She had been worried about her upcoming re-election; and he had been focused on his problems. They couldn't seem to comfort each other anymore. Her offer to intervene on his behalf when the Duncan case blew up in his face was rebuffed. Despite what Bud had done, he couldn't let her rip JAG Corps apart anymore than he could have allowed Commander Lindsey do that.

So where did that leave him?

Well, he sure wasn't going to get any sleep thinking about all this.

Heaving a tired sigh, Sturgis Turner climbed out of bed. He started to look for his pants and realized that he hadn't even taken off his uniform. He had been so absorbed in his thoughts that he had forgotten to take his uniform off.

He straightened his khakis as best he could, put on his cap and headed for the door. Maybe a trip to the workout area would wear him out and hold off his personal demons long enough for him to get some rest.

AJ Chegwidden watched as Commander Burford and Major Clemons rounded up their volunteers for their mission with Clayton Webb.

Part of him wanted to go with them. He'd love to get a chance to catch one of these sorry SOBs that had trashed his facility.

Then he noticed Clayton Webb conferring with Sergeant Givers. What he saw made the bile rise in his throat. He watched as the CIA man seemed to listen intently to what this DIA operative was telling him. (It figures) he harrumphed silently.

With Mac out of sight and out of mind it figured that this smarmy Special Agent would turn his attention to another female Marine.

It seemed that Clayton had always had something for people, both male and female, in military uniforms. What, he didn't know, but the fact that this spook was conversing with another of his kind, as far as AJ was concerned, was fine with him.

He wished he understood what motivated Clayton Webb. When he and Clay rescued Tim Fawkes from those Italian terrorists in Sicily, AJ thought it just might be that this former Olympic pentathlete had finally found the CIA's warped code of moral justice and plausible deniability too caviler when it came down to friends' lives. But after he and the spook rescued Tim, off went Clay back into the CIA woodwork.

For a brief amount of time AJ thought Clay looked up to, even admired military officers for their sense of duty and honor. Then he realized it was just Clayton Webb's way of getting what he wanted.

He looked back over at the CIA Special Agent giving Burford, Clemons and Givers final instructions about how they were going to capture Al Harib.

Just like now. Clayton Webb was getting what he wanted. He would get his man, rub elbows with people he admired and respected, and redeem himself in the eyes of the CIA.

AJ felt sorry for Neville and Porter's only son.

"Admiral!"

AJ turned to see Gunnery Sergeant Galindez, NCIS Special Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo and the FAST Team along with Gunny's squad walking back into the shattered compound.

Behind them, the JAG could see HMMWVs and LAV-25 armored scout cars starting to form a defensive line just beyond the still smoldering Expedition and Crown Victoria.

Gunny stopped in front of AJ and saluted. "Sir, the Quick Reaction forces from 8th and I and Quantico are forming a second defensive line on Stovall."

The JAG noticed that a few of the quick reaction soldiers were walking wounded, sporting bandages and field dressings. Some were even seen with leg and or arm splints.

AJ shot the former Head of JAG Admin Ops a pointed bewildered look. "Gunny, what the hell happened?"

"Al Harib's men had an ambush set up to stop any reinforcements," He gave a sidelong glance to the two NCIS agents standing next to him, "With the help of Special Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo and the Valley Forge FAST team, we were able to stop them before they inflicted any real damage."

This was the second time today the agents from the Naval Criminal Investigative Service had saved his people. Maybe karma was giving them a second chance after his initial run in with these agents back in the winter of this year. The only thing was, AJ Chegwidden didn't believe in karma; he did believe that former Marine Leroy Jethro Gibbs was a good man to have on your side.

He gave the silver haired senior Special Agent a silent nod of acknowledgement.

Gibbs smiled slightly at the compliment. He knew the admiral well enough to know that he didn't give praise easily, especially praise to a man that had nearly railroaded one of his lead attorneys on trumped up murder charges.

"Sir?" Victor Galindez didn't know much about the two NCIS agents, but he could see that the older of the two had won AJ Chegwidden's respect, which wasn't the easiest thing in the world to do.

Still, Gunny didn't have time to wonder how that came about. Right now, he had to find Clayton Webb. "I need to find Mr. Webb, Sir. Where is he?"

AJ turned his gaze on the five-ton truck and the brace of Humvees that were receding from view. "They just left to apprehend al Harib, Gunny. Mr. Webb got word that they had retreated to the Greenway Downs Shopping Village."

Gunny Galindez's voice cut the air sharply as only a Marine Gunny can do.

"We have to go after them, sir; they're heading into an ambush."

Sturgis Turner was about to enter the Recreation Hall when he was stopped short by a soldier hurrying out of the building.

The man avoided looking into the Commander's eyes. "Sorry sir," he said throwing a hasty salute as he passed him.

The stunned Bubblehead reacted by reflex. "Lance Corporal…"

The Marine stopped in his tracks. "Yes sir?"

Sturgis walked over to the soldier. "Lance Corporal Bauer? What are you doing here at this hour?" The Bubblehead was more than a little curious as why this man wasn't in his bunk. "Do you have guard duty?"

"No sir," Rover three's scout fire-team leader answered honestly, still not looking the navy lawyer in the eyes. "Just trying to get news of the attack on your Headquarters. Sir…. Please excuse me…."

That really didn't answer the former Dolphin's question. What interest did Lance Corporal Rick Bauer have in the attack on JAG Corps Headquarters? Besides morbid curiosity? And why was the man being evasive? All of these questions made the investigator in Sturgis Turner determined to get an answer.

"Do you know someone who works there, Corporal?" Sturgis asked.

"Sir I really need to get back to my bunk…." Lance Corporal Bauer looked as if he wished he were anywhere else but here.

"You didn't answer my question Lance Corporal; do you know someone who works there?"

Bauer's eyes met the Bubblehead's for the first time. They flashed with anger.

"Are you accusing me of something…sir?" The 'Sir' was not meant as term of respect.

"That wasn't my intention Lance Corporal," Sturgis gave the man a hard stare as only a naval Commander and JAG staff judge advocate can, "Is there something you're guilty of?"

Bauer quickly deflated under the former Dolphin's attorney stare. It was obvious that the Lance Corporal hadn't meant to confront a senior officer. Sturgis realized he had hit a nerve in the young LAV scout.

"Tell me why you were in there, Corporal."

Bauer looked into the Bubblehead's face. This time there was worry lacing his features.

"My brother works at JAG Corps, sir, he's assigned to the security detachment. I was headed over to the Chaplain's office."

Shock replaced the Commander's stern glare.

"If you'll excuse me, sir?" This time the request was not made in anger. Sturgis could see the man was truly worried about his brother.

"I'll come with you Corporal," replied submariner/attorney.

Fazirah didn't know how long she had been out. The last thing she remembered was Hammad, Kazir and the others leaving her and her brother alone in the darkness.

Her arms ached from being stretched and shackled the way they were. She could yell and scream for help but she knew based on what little she could see in the gloom and the padding she felt against her back that the walls were probably well insulated.

She doubted even a high-pitched scream could be heard outside this room.

Fazirah felt doubt sapping her strength. Her brother was quiet now, his groaning had stopped shortly after Hammad had left the room. Had they killed him? Was only his cold lifeless body shackled next to her?

She tried to shake these negative thoughts from her mind. (Allah will provide a path,) she thought, and began to silently recite passages from the Koran.

It was then in her mind's eye that she saw her Phillip. Not the way he had looked when they brought him home. He was whole again and looked resplendent in his Class A dress Marine khakis.

(Don't worry, Fazirah)

She cocked her head. Was that him?

"Phillip?" Was all she was able to voice.

Hammad stood in the manager's office of the abandoned grocery store. It looked out over the empty, checkout counters, aisles and rusted shelving that dominated the building.

"Where are the other squads?" asked a burly man keeping a watch on the empty parking lot through a security window.

"They are martyrs now," Hammad said simply.

The man turned from the window and gave Hammad a questioning look. "That does not leave us many with which to steal the American self-propelled gun."

Hammad smiled. "We will have more than enough when the time comes, Fahim. Right now we have to eliminate those from JAG Headquarters that would try to follow us."

"Are you certain they will come here?" Fahim was beginning to wonder just how brilliant Hammad was. He nervously looked out the security window again.

Hammad was not angered by the man's questions. After all, they were legitimate questions. "They will come, my brother. They have been tracking our cell phone calls as Al Sahood had predicted they would. We have placed the bait as instructed; now all we have to do is wait patiently."

"Corporal, take your fire team and seal off the north end of this block," Instructed one of JAG Corps Shore Patrolmen.

"Aye, aye, sir," replied fire team leader. He turned to his men. "You heard the Sergeant, move it!"

The men hustled down the street away from five-ton truck from which Marines and Navy personnel were still disembarking.

The Sergeant reported to Lieutenant Commander Burford. "Sir, we're in the process of sealing off the north and south ends of the street," the man looked up the street toward the abandoned strip mall, "Do you really think they are in there?"

"That's what Mr. Webb thinks, Sergeant." John Burford replied dryly as he scanned the abandoned storefronts.

The Sergeant nodded his head. "Aye, sir,"

"Givers!"

Marla turned. It was Major Clemons who was fast approaching her.

"Yes ma'am?" the paralegal replied apprehensively.

"You go in with me," Carly ordered, as she took her position beside Marla on the other side of the HMMWV.

"Yes ma'am," Marla replied, as she placed her rifle on the truck's engine cowling, aiming at the boarded up front of the abandoned grocery store.

"And Sergeant," Carly added as she balanced her own rifle next to her on the cowling, "if you screw this up, your ass is mine."

Marla nervously fingered the trigger of her rifle.

"Over there," AJ pointed out the knot of soldiers busily working at the corner of the street. Two others were hastily building a make-shift wall on the other side of the road.

A corporal was standing in the middle of the road waving at the truck in an effort to stop its progress.

The truck slowed to a stop as the corporal climbed up on the running board. The man did a double take when he saw who was sitting in the passenger seat.

"Admiral!" the man saluted.

The JAG didn't have time for niceties. "Corporal, have they started their assault yet?"

"Uh, no sir," corporal replied apprehensively, "But they probably will in a few minutes sir." he added quickly.

Mac walked over to the window and looked out at the inky blackness of the night, penetrated here and there by the security lights of the BLT compound. Harm had been standing there since they had turned off the television. Neither one could stand to see the disheartening images anymore.

As Mac approached the aviator/attorney, the Marine could see her partner was turning inward, just like she did when faced with a problem. It would be so easy for her to let him do this, they had done it so often to one another when one or the other had a crisis they were dealing with. It was a part of their dance, but Sarah MacKenzie didn't want to dance that particular step anymore.

"Harm."

The naval Commander didn't move.

She softly laid a hand on his shoulder. "Harm."

Harmon Rabb turned toward her. He could see her eyes were shining brightly.

"Mac, what happened to the other tank crewmen that you talked to before the hearing?"

The Marine attorney thought for moment, allowing her legal mind to focus on this rather than the overwhelming emotions she was feeling. "You mean Khalil and Rafid…they had disappeared from the jail when Bud and I went back after the riots."

Harm looked back out the window and then again at her. "Was there any signs of a struggle?"

She wasn't sure why he needed to know this right now. "No, and no blood either. Harm what are you driving at?"

He focused his deep blue eyes on her lovely face. "Khalil and Rafid may still be alive, Mac. We have to find them."

The light colonel knew what her partner wanted to do. "Harm, if they are alive, it'll be like looking for two needles in very large haystack. What makes you think they'll want to talk to us when we find them anyway?"

"Not us, Mac, you." Harm answered. "You were the one who got Jalloud to talk in the first place."

"Okay," she grumbled good naturedly "*I'll* talk to them; that is, provided *we* find them. And just how do you propose to do that?"

"Officer Haskim al-Surah will help, Mac. He saw Jalloud's killers and may know what happened to Khalil and Rafid."

Stuart Dunston was on his satellite telephone with the Baghdad Bureau Chief.

"How many did you say were killed?" The news reporter was hastily scribbling down what was being relayed to him. "At least twenty? You want me to get local reactions to what has happened?"

Sully, his cameraman, stood over to one side, quietly listening to the exchange. He knew Pam Somers. They had worked together several times. He also knew that she was filming a story near Stovall when the attack happened.

He wanted to ask Stuart if she was all right, but the ZNN reporter was deep in conversation at this moment.

"Okay Tom," said Stuart finishing the call, "We'll get started in a few minutes."

As he put the receiver back in place, Dunston looked up at his cameraman.

"What?"

"Pam was in the area doing a local story-"

"She's fine Sully," Stuart cut the man's concerns off in mid-sentence, "Now grab your stuff and let's go; we've got people to interview."

Carly looked at abandoned grocery store. That was most likely where al Harib and his thugs were holed up. She gave Marla a sidelong glance. The Sergeant reminded her of younger version of herself seven years before when she and then Captain Sarah MacKenzie were an unofficial attachment to that Force Recon team in Bosnia.

The Major was struck by the fact that the store looked a lot like the lodge house the Captain had entered. The Staff Sergeant in charge of the recon team had fumed about the captain's order to stay back until she gave the signal.

_Has she always been like this Clemons?_

_The captain has her own way of getting things done, Staff Sergeant_

_Well I just hope her tactics don't end up getting us and her killed, Clemons_

_Hasn't yet Staff Sergeant_

_Let's hope her luck is still holding_

She and Carly had been picked to go with the Force Recon team from the 9th Marines, to Tinova because the team needed an edge against this local Bosnian Serb strongman. Their forces had put a stranglehold on this village. Plus they were holding a squad of UN peacekeepers hostage.

The French soldiers had been tied up next to their VAB wheeled personnel carrier within shooting distance of a ZPU-4 anti-aircraft machinegun. It was the team's mission to rescue the peacekeepers, and any other hostages that this strongman had.

They also knew that the strongman had a weakness for pretty women. Enter Clemons and MacKenzie.

Mac was fresh out of law school, a newly minted attorney. Carly had dreams of going to law school. Up to now, they had been involved in revising rules of engagement, advising Force Recon teams on what actions were permissible, and talking with locals about possible war crimes.

Then word came down about hostages being held in Tinova. They had been taken at the same time the Serbs had grabbed other members of the UN Protection Force, but unlike the other hostages, negotiations had not won their release.

The local UN commander consulted with the Commander of the MEU on board the USS Kearsarge. He in turn, talked with his commanders and they talked to Washington.

All the women had to do was to distract the strongman, known as Paclov, long enough for the Recon team to do their job.

But there was an added wrinkle when Paclov decided he wanted to keep the captain for his personal woman. Now the team and Sergeant Clemons feared that Paclov had another hostage.

That didn't turn out to be the case. When the team made their assault and burst through the front door of the lodge, they found Captain MacKenzie sitting on an unconscious Paclov.

Her mind was dragged back to the present by silent signal made by Commander Burford.

Two grenadiers took aim and fired CS gas canisters from their M-79 grenade launchers into the small windows near the roof of the grocery store.

At the same time, two more grenadiers fired 40 millimeter high explosive dual purpose rounds through the thick plywood boards that covered the front of the store.

Smoke billowed and swirled out from the stricken building. Flames belched from the holes punctured in the plywood facing.

Carly nodded at John and motioned her squad to move forward.

1640 Local [Romeo]

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

Faith Coleman and Jack McBurney watched as the Seahawk medevac helo carrying Commander Carolyn Imes and several other wounded Marines and Sailors dipped its nose and roared toward Bethesda.

Jack continued watching the sky until the helicopter was out of sight. "I wonder how many more medevacs there will be?" he said to no one in particular.

"At least four," Faith said clinically looking around at the ad-hoc triage unit Ducky and hospital corpsmen had set up in the JAG Headquarters parking lot. "Do you know where the Admiral went?"

The Major turned to her. "He went with Gunnery Sergeant Galindez and Special Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo. Galindez had said something about an ambush being set up…."

"Then that means that we have been left in charge," said Faith walking away from him.

Jack gave her a surprised look. "What do you mean 'left in charge'?"

She turned her face toward him and gave him a thin amused smile. "We're the senior JAG Corps officers on scene right now, Major. Unless you would rather I was the officer in charge."

Jack walked quickly to catch up with her. "No, if he left us both in charge, then we should do this jointly." The Major began looking around the parking lot as if searching for something. "Where's Commander Mattoni? Did he go with the Admiral too?"

Faith stopped abruptly when she saw the Commander standing over by the entrance to JAG Headquarters. She turned back toward Jack. "You are right Major; I- I had forgotten that Commander Mattoni was still here. He is the officer in charge."

Jack was pleased that something had finally flustered the unflappable Faith Coleman. "You forgot?"

The Lieutenant Commander's mouth drew into a tight line. "Yes Major, I forgot; it does happen, you know. Given the circumstances, I think that it is understandable."

"Sure, Commander, it happens to the best of us," he said quickly, not wanting to provoke her at this particular moment. Why, he wasn't sure. Maybe it was that momentarily vulnerable look she had before her Vulcan façade snapped into place. When she wasn't holding herself in so tightly, she was really a very pretty woman.

Faith turned on her heel and began heading away from him. "We should probably check in with the Commander to see if he needs any assistance…."

1640 Local [Romeo]

Bud Robert's Residence

Arlington, Virginia

Mike Roberts let himself in with the spare key that was kept in the planter by the door.

"Little AJ?" The house was silent.

"Harriet?" Nothing.

Mike walked over to the answering machine. No messages. Mike prayed that Harriet wasn't at JAG Corps today. From what he had seen and heard so far about the terrorist attack, the news wasn't encouraging.

Word had spread across the Academy about the attack and the number of people killed and wounded. Mike received special permission from the Commandant to leave the campus and drive out to his brother's residence. He figured Bud would be calling soon enough and he had hoped that Harriet and little AJ would be here.

With nothing else to do, Mike walked into the living room. He removed his cover and perched himself on the ottoman in front of Bud's chair. He felt it wasn't a good idea to sit back in the chair in case Harriet should suddenly come in. He didn't want to appear to be lounging in her living room while terrorists were attacking.

He picked up the remote and turned on the television.

The ZNN dramatic 'late breaking news' music had just reached its crescendo.

"For those of you just tuning in, here is the latest on the apparent terrorist attack on JAG Corps Headquarters. There are at least twenty-two confirmed dead and at least forty injured or wounded."

Mike sat closer to the edge on the ottoman. He knew that at any moment they would list those dead and he prayed again that his brother's wife's name did not appear.

"…on your screen is a listing of those confirmed killed…." As the ZNN anchor read off the names, Mike winced as he recognized several of the names, both male and female. He had talked with many of them on several occasions when he visited the office.

For a brief moment Mike thought about calling Big Bud. But he quickly dismissed as a crazy idea. Besides, what would he say if he did call? He imagined the call would go something like this:

"_Hey Dad, its Mike; I'm here at Bud and Harriet's … no, I haven't heard from either of them…no Dad, that's not a good idea, it's pretty dangerous down there right now…no Dad, I'm not going down there…what do you mean its my duty as soldier? Dad, that's crazy…no, Dad, please don't go down there…._

No, calling Big Bud would only make matters worse…. He hoped that his father was otherwise occupied.

Mike watched as they showed live film from the scene. The jerky camera movements showed the splintered remains of the JAG guard booth where a LAV-25 armored car sat with several grim looking Marines hunched behind a makeshift wall of sandbags. A quick shot was shown of Admiral Chegwidden conferring with a group of Marine and Naval officers. Another shot showed the bullet riddled Expedition and the burned out shell of a Ford Crown Victoria sitting on its bare axles. Another shot showed the nearly obliterated remains of a Falls Church police cruiser sitting in front of a bullet riddled panel van.

Every time he saw the images, Mike felt little bit angrier about what he was seeing and little bit more worried about his brother's wife.

The two mixed squads moved closer to the grocery store under the cover of smoke canisters. Carly's squad moved in the first bound, while John's stayed behind to provide cover fire if necessary.

Burford's sniper, 2nd Lieutenant Beck, kept his rifle trained on the store, as did Clemons' man, the Corporal from the central file room. JAG attorney Lieutenant Rick Bernard acted as observer for the two men as they watched the burning building for signs of life.

Flames continued to greedily lick away at the plywood boards covering the storefront.

Carly's squad took defensive positions as John's team bounded forward.

Inside the burning building, Hammad's soldiers quickly worked with extinguishers to limit the advance of the flames. From the outside it would still look like a smoldering fire, but inside the flames were a memory.

Well away from the CS gas, Hammad smiled as he observed the American soldiers moving closer. Like lambs to the slaughter. He spoke into his newly acquired cell phone. "They are not close enough. Don't fire yet…."

John looked at his second in command, Sergeant Eakins from central computing. "Continue bounding overwatch until we reach the store entrance, fire only if fired upon."

"Aye sir." the man said grimly as he led the squad closer to the burning structure.

Victor Galindez sprinted toward the strip mall parking lot. Close behind him was Special Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo, the Admiral with the Valley Forge FAST team.

The 2nd Force Recon Gunnery Sergeant had quickened his pace when he saw dark smoke rising from one of the stores.

JAG attorney Bernard turned toward the sound of hurried footfalls behind him. He looked questioningly at Gunny Galindez in civilian clothes bearing an M-16A2 rifle.

"Gunny?"

"Call them back sir!" Gunny said in a rush trying not to shout despite the urgency of the situation.

"Am I going to be all right Doctor?" the wounded shore patrolman asked. He glanced down nervously at the bloody wound on his thigh.

"You're going to be fine, my lad," Dr. Mallard said confidently as he finished applying another dressing to the wound. "Much better than my usual patients."

The JAG SP chuckled nervously at the arcane comment. "Thanks Doc," he said as two corpsmen lifted his stretcher and carried it toward a waiting Sea Knight.

As the SP was loaded aboard the helicopter, 'Ducky' Mallard waved his acknowledgement to the man.

Ducky turned to see Alan Mattoni walking toward him.

"Ah, Commander Mattoni, how goes the mop up operations?"

"As well as can be expected Dr. Mallard," returned the navy Commander, "How are your patients doing?"

"Well, it's really nice being able to talk to someone who actually talks back for a change," Ducky said cryptically.

Commander Mattoni gave the Doctor a bewildered look.

Ducky shook his head, "Never mind." For a moment the NCIS medical examiner looked as if he had lost something. "By the way, where is Jethro?"

"You mean Special Agent Gibbs? He and Agent DiNozzo went with Gunnery Sergeant Galindez and Admiral Chegwidden. I thought you had heard the commotion."

Commander Mattoni was somewhat surprised that the NCIS Medical Examiner hadn't heard Gunny and the ruckus caused when he told the Admiral about the ambush suffered by the quick reaction forces.

Donald Mallard's face soured. "No Commander, I did not, I was busy tending to my patients. Where did they go?"

"The Gunnery Sergeant believes that al Faoud is setting up an ambush in strip mall west of here. Gunny, Special Agent Gibbs, the Admiral and the rest are now trying to warn Mr. Webb and the others."

Ducky took this unsettling information well. He nodded his head sagely. "Well, if Jethro is with him, the Gunnery Sergeant will get there in time," said Medical Examiner confidently.

"Harm it's nearly 0200 in the morning," Mac groaned as she laid her head on the table in the rec room. "I can't do this now."

Harm understood what she was feeling. But he also knew despite the late hour they had only a certain amount of time to find those Iraqi tank men who might be able clear Lukens and Buell.

He put his hands on his hips. "It doesn't work that way, Mac, you know that,"

Mac, despite her conflicted emotions and her overwhelming desire to sleep, knew he had a point. However logic told her very few, if any, people would be up at this hour to talk with them. She knew Harm was becoming obsessed – as he always did when trying to uncover the truth. It wasn't a bad trait; it was just that his sense of timing couldn't have been worse.

The pretty marine attorney raised her head and looked at her impatient partner through tired brown eyes. She could see his stance; arms crossed, that stern and take-no- prisoners' look his baby aqua blueswould be communicating. How could he look so damn good at 0200?

_(Get your mind back on the case, MacKenzie,)_ she silently chided herself.

She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Fatigue was overwhelming her, so she had to fight to make sense.

Normally if something like this had happened she wouldn't need anything to stay awake. In fact it was only because she was closer to her favorite aviator and because this day had been beyond brutal that she could feel sleep trying to entice her to drift off.

"Harm, please. Think about this. It's 0205 in the morning. While there might be nightlife in downtown Baghdad, there are probably not a lot of villages or even villagers stirring right now-"

The aviator/lawyer knew what she was saying, and normally he would have agreed with her, but time was running out for their clients. This might be their last hope. He had to get her to see why, and more importantly, how he planned to pull this off.

"It's not villagers I want…, he stopped when her sleep filled features started to harden. He didn't want to battle with her about this.

He began again, more gently. "It's not the villagers that *we want* to talk to right now, Marine. *We want* to start with someone who would be up at this hour."

That comment reached into Sarah MacKenzie's sleep enfeebled brain. Immediately she lifted her head upright and gave him a sleepy lidded smile. "Officer Haskim al-Surah."

Harmon Rabb, Jr. nodded to his fatigued partner. "Exactly Mac," He couldn't help noticing how endearing this rough and tough Marine looked in her current state. He really wanted to gather her into his arms, but now that he had his partner's understanding, they had to strike while the iron was hot. He settled for giving her a gentle smile. "C'mon Marine, let an Airedale buy you a cup of coffee," the Commander said bargaining with her as he helped her out of her chair.

Mac could have protested, saying she didn't need his help, but in her current frame of mind, that was the furthest thing from her brain. She gave him a sexy sleep filled smile. "Airedale Harm? I thought you considered that term an insult…." The last word was partially obscured by a large yawn.

Harm gave her a wry smile in return, "Well Mac, it's the least I can do since you're letting me call you Jarhead. I know that isn't a favorite term Marines like to be called."

She chuckled as he supported her to a standing position. "Better than some I've heard," she said drolly.

They stopped for a long moment and looked at each other. Mac was rapidly waking up and becoming aware of the man in that Commander's uniform that was gently holding on to her.

"Um, Harm…you can let go of me…I'm standing up on my own now…," she said nervously.

Harm was just as embarrassed. "Yeah…right…of course…sure you are…," the words tumbled out his mouth with equally nervous fervor.

Mac turned to head for the door and out into hopefully a cool hallway.

"Mac," She stopped before taking hold of the handle.

The intensity in his voice made her want to turn around and give him a kiss that would rival the one they had had on the Admiral's front porch.

She closed her eyes and willed her body to stop betraying her like this. She needed to be strong for both of them, if they were ever going to make it out of here.

"Harm," the words were strained so she cleared her throat. "Harm, you're welcome. Now let's go find Officer al-Surah."

Commander Burford's squad had just finished their bound and had taken up positions in an empty drainage ditch just in front of the store. Major Clemons' squad had already started their next bound that would get them even closer to the burning structure.

Gunny Galindez and Admiral Chegwidden dropped in on Burford's left while Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo also laid down in the concrete ditch.

"Commander!" hissed AJ trying not to alert al-Faoud's men "Call the Major's squad back! Now!"

If the sudden appearance of the JAG and the Gunnery Sergeant hadn't surprised him enough, the Admiral's orders did.

"Call them-?"

AJ Chegwidden's hushed voice hissed like a sharpened blade that matched his angered expression. "Now Commander! That's an order! Call them back!"

"It's too late sir," Gunny reported as he pointed further down the open storm drain on the left side of the abandoned store.

AJ whirled back on stunned Lieutenant Commander. "Commander! Take your squad and assist the Major!"

This time John didn't hesitate. "Aye Sir!"

John Burford motioned to his squad members who also didn't want to risk the wrath of Admiral Chegwidden. They quickly scrambled in the direction of Carly's squad.

As John made his way toward Major Clemon's position, he looked back and saw the JAG shoulder Beck's rifle, which he had left behind.

"Gunny," said AJ tersely as he settled the rifle on its bipod and then adjusted the sniper sight and settled his face so his right eye fit into the eyepiece. He didn't have to say anything else to the Force Recon Gunnery Sergeant.

"Your target is to the left, Admiral," replied Victor as if he did this every day. "Slight 3 o'clock wind."

AJ lined the target up in his sights and said a silent prayer.

Carly's squad stealthily moved through the dry open storm drain, trying to present as small a target to potential snipers as they could, given their vulnerable position.

As they neared a bend in the drainage ditch, Marla held up her fist to indicate for the squad to halt. She turned to the Major and pointed to her eyes with her index and middle finger and then pointed them toward the back of the building's roof.

Carly Clemons could see two gunmen with binoculars perched near the back, scanning the parking lot. Why they hadn't spotted them in this open drainage ditch was a miracle.

The major knew that most of her squad probably wasn't skilled in hand-to-hand close quarters combat but using a pistol to eliminate them would most certainly alert the one remaining alive which in turn would alert the whole group inside.

No, she'd have to do this one herself. She motioned to Marla that she would take care of them. Using hand signals was primitive, but it did keep the bad guys from hearing their intentions. It really didn't help things that they didn't have enough radios for everyone – then again, things were pretty chaotic at JAG so they were lucky to have what equipment they did have.

0230 Local

Mirbullah, Iraq

Harm pulled up behind the Hum-vee and the Iraqi patrol car that were behind an idling white Toyota pickup.

The JAG Corps attorneys could see two Iraqi police officers. One was patting down the pick-up truck driver, while the other was shining his flashlight into the truck's interior.

Behind them, the shore patrolman manning the HMMWV's M2HB .50 cal. had his weapon trained on the driver in case he tried to get away.

The first policeman finished patting down his suspect and then began rapidly firing questions at the Toyota driver. He answered back just as quickly but in a very respectful manner.

Harm looked over at Mac. "They suspect him of something…?"

Mac nodded. "He's accusing him of being a Ba'ath loyalist and an insurgent…."

They watched as the officer became more animated and began gesturing violently at the man.

"He's scolding him for driving a vehicle of the Fedayeen paramilitary. The man's claiming it was abandoned near his farm…." Mac added.

As the first officer continued his lecture/interrogation, the second one pulled his head out of the truck's interior. In his hand he held a PM Markov pistol.

He alerted his partner to his discovery. The first officer turned back to the stunned man and barked another battery of questions at him about the weapon. Mac could see in the sodium streetlamp glow that the officer holding the Russian made pistol was Officer al-Surah.

Carly held her breath as the two lookouts exchanged expressions of boredom. They came here to fight and kill Americans, not sit and watch the infidels scurrying back and forth. The JAG Major had made it to the roof of the store and now was safely behind a rusted and well-worn air conditioning unit. Slowly she slid out her knife….

The first policeman had just finished placing the Toyota driver in the back their blue and white cruiser, when Harm and Mac got out of their Hum-vee and walked over.

"Officer al-Surah?"

The second policeman turned and saw the two approaching American soldiers, one male, one female.

"The situation is under control," he said quickly, obviously to assure these curious American soldiers, "This loyalist was trying to head north to join the insurgents in Baghdad."

"That's not why we're here," Harm said in response.

Al-Surah turned and squinted at the two Americans. The man he recognized. It was the Navy lawyer, Harmon Rabb. But who was the other soldier with him?

Al-Surah's partner finished securing the Ba'ath official in the back of the car. He eyed the two approaching Americans warily. He turned to al-Surah to get confirmation that these two soldiers weren't going to interfere with their arrest.

It had been made clear in the rules of engagement that accompanying military policemen would not impede Iraqi law enforcement operations, that didn't stop an occasional 'helpful' soldier from trying to help them learn 'proper' police procedures.

"Commander Rabb," Surah said as a way of greeting a fellow professional.

"We need to talk with you for moment, if we may,"

Al-Surah's partner looked disturbed.

"It's all right Hadi," he said as a way of reassuring the man, "I talked with the Commander a couple of days ago. Would you please excuse us?"

Hadi nodded and got into the cruiser.

He turned back to the JAGs. "What can I do for you and your partner, Commander?"

"Officer al-Surah, we need your help…."

Haskim was immediately on his guard. "What kind of help?"

"We need to locate these two men," Mac said as she handed him two photos, "They were being held at the police station with Captain Jalloud when the terrorists attacked."

Al-Surah studied the photographs for a moment. The woman that handed him the pictures was exceedingly pretty. He was sure she was Persian, though her English was impeccable.

"Forgive me Colonel…." He paused to her subdued name tag. 'MacKenzie.' What an odd name for a Persian woman. "MacKenzie…but why would I know about these men?"

"It's not that you would know about them Officer Al-Surah, we just thought you might be able to help us locate them," In the back of his mind, the aviator/lawyer wondered if he should probe that slip, but his Marine partner beat him to it.

"Officer al-Surah, it would greatly help our case if we could locate these men and get them to testify as to the innocence of Lieutenant Lukens and Chief Warrant Officer Buell."

Al-Surah had heard about the case of American fratricide that was now being treated as murder, but how could finding his childhood friends, Rafid and Khalil help? Al-Surah would have to know more before he would assist these two American military lawyers in their search.

"How would their testimony help the American helicopter pilots?"

"They would help keep innocent men from being punished for a crime they didn't commit. Also they would help us to prove who the real killers were." Harm said trying make his case.

(That sounds noble,) thought the police officer but he had to know who they thought the real killers were.

"And who do you think are the real culprits, Colonel?"

Mac understood the man's reluctance to help, but she also knew the culprits would be ones al-Surah would gladly help bring to justice.

"The same one who are making your country's innocent bleed in a misguided Jihad in support of a despotic regime that you helped overthrow, Officer al-Surah." She gambled that he had cooperated with Iraqi Freedom because the law officer was appalled by Saddam's method of ruling.

"These men can be brought to justice with their help…and yours."

Haskim didn't want this insurgency turning into something even more destructive. Maybe by enabling the Americans to catch these foreigner insurgents who killed the Marine Combat Engineer, the foreign Mujahedeen would be exposed for the true imperial expansionists that they really were.

"I will help you Colonel, Commander."

Carly signaled to Marla and the other members of her squad that the lookouts were dead.

The Major had killed before and it always left her with conflicted feelings. Right now though, she had a job to do, so any thoughts that might make her hesitate had to be put aside or before they got her, or members of her squad, killed.

As she headed for the fire escape ladder that would take her back down to the drainage ditch and back to her squad's position, she saw Commander Burford's sweat and dirt stained summer whites among the enlisted men and women of her unit.

0245 Local

Mirbullah, Iraq

The three vehicle convoy turned off the main thoroughfare and stopped in front of a non-descript white single story house with walled courtyard. Haskim got out of his patrol car first, walked over to the door and knocked twice in quick succession.

After a moment the door opened just enough so that a whispered voice could be heard. The JAGs listened as al-Surah apologetically explained his presence here at this early hour.

His explanation was sufficient. The door opened wide enough to invite the police officer inside and then snapped shut.

Harm turned to his Marine partner. "What do you think?"

"It's someone he knows; they're probably fearful of reprisals," Mac postulated.

Harm was about to add his own comment when the door unexpectedly opened again. Haskim stepped out and motioned for Harm and Mac to come inside. Both got out of their HMMWV and walked over to the gated entrance. The Iraqi police officer stopped them before they could enter.

"They're scared of retaliation from the Ba'athists and the Fedayeen," Haskim whispered to the two attorneys. Mac gave Harm an 'I told you so' look. Harm did his best not to look disgruntled.

"To even be seen being friendly to Americans can target an entire family for death."

Mac gently laid her hand on the Commander's forearm. "Let me speak to them Harm,"

The Commander looked over at Haskim and then back at her and nodded his agreement.

"Is it all right if Colonel MacKenzie speaks with them?" The navy commander asked the police officer.

Haskim looked at Sarah MacKenzie, "They only understand Arabic. I doubt any of them know Farsi Colonel,"

"They don't have to Officer al-Surah," replied Mac confidently, "I know Arabic."

Al-Surah's eyes flared. This marine colonel was full of surprises.

"Okay, come in quickly. If we stay in this neighborhood too long, we'll arouse suspicion."

The three went into the house's courtyard.

"Commander, what are you doing here?" Though she was barely whispering her facial expression clearly telegraphed her irritation at Burford and his squad joining her assault.

John knew why she was aggravated, but it wasn't his idea. "Admiral's orders," he said simply.

Her eyebrows climbed into her hair. "Admiral Chegwidden's? He's here!

The Commander motioned back from the direction he came. "Back in the ditch in front of the store. We're to wait here until the FAST team from USS Valley Forge joins us."

In her mind, they were wasting precious time.

"When will that be?" she whispered huffily.

John looked her and gave a most charming grin. "Oh, we'll know; it'll be soon after they have initiated a distraction," he further elaborated.

"What kind of distraction?"

"A big one," he said cryptically as he scanned the building for signs of movement.

The FAST Lieutenant looked at his watch and then at Leroy Jethro Gibbs. The NCIS agent gave a single nod of his head.

Hammad watched the JAG Headquarters marines and sailors milling about in the storm drain. (They must be waiting for instructions from higher authorities,) he thought as he watched what he thought were the confused movements of a wounded animal, but he also understood from his elders that a wounded animal can be very dangerous.

A series of flash bang grenades sparked and boomed across the vacant strip mall parking lot. These were joined by canisters streaming smoke that bounced off the boarded up front of the store.

Carly started when the flash bangs began going off.

"That would be the beginning of the distraction," John said wryly.

The Major was about to tell him that this seemed a little bit like overkill when she saw some members of the FAST team moving through the smoke like ghosts.

A sergeant from the team moved up next to her and introduced himself

"Sergeant Burns, ma'am, sir" He said to the two JAG Corps attorneys.

They acknowledged him "Sergeant," Carly said tersely, "What's the plan?"

Sergeant Burns unfurled a photocopy of an architectural drawing of the abandoned discount store. "We're setting demolition charges, here, here and here," he said as he pointed to various spots on the drawing, "They'll go off while we're still firing off the noisemakers and flash-bangs and then we'll enter through the holes created by the charges, ma'am, sir." He hoped the two attorneys had enough combat experience to know what he was talking about.

Carly gave John a sour look. It wasn't the best plan in the world, but their options were dwindling fast and no one wanted these killers to get away twice.

"Who's providing cover fire Sergeant?" John asked.

"Admiral Chegwidden and an NCIS agent are providing covering fire, sir," he explained to the two JAGs. Yeah, he thought it was odd too, judging by the moment of disbelief that crossed their faces, but who's going to argue with the JAG?

"We're to go in and dig those terrorists out. The Admiral wants your two squads to pull back to his position and provide cover fire for our assault."

Carly quickly scanned the Sergeant's small team. "How many men does your tactical team have?"

"Uh, eight ma'am," he said unsure why she was asking him this. "Nine including the Lieutenant."

"Where are the other four?" John said taking over the querying.

"Wounded sir," there was no further explanation needed.

"You need four more soldiers with combat experience," Carly said aloud.

Sergeant Burns knew what she was saying. "Yes ma'am, that would be optimal," he said noncommittally.

Carly exchanged a knowing glance with John. She looked back at the FAST Sergeant. "The Commander, Lieutenant Beck, Sergeant Givers and I have combat experience and have dealt with terrorists before. We'll go along."

The FAST Sergeant's eyes momentarily widened at her announcement. Then like any good soldier he nodded his acceptance "Aye, aye, ma'am."

"We're putting ourselves under your and your CO's command Sergeant," John added, letting the man know they weren't trying to commandeer their mission. "It's your operation."

Whether what this lawyer was saying was the truth or not they'd soon find out. "Aye sir."

As the noisemakers and the flash bangs continued erupting, AJ lined up his target – a security window on the far left front side of the building near the roof. Special Agent Gibbs selected the security window on the far right side of the building. AJ glanced over at NCIS Special Agent and nodded. Both men fired simultaneously.

Inside the building, the gunmen on either side of Hammad's command group stumbled backward, clutching at their newly formed wounds. With the noise from the outside, it was impossible to hear the rifle reports or the low rumble of the demo charges.

Mac was sitting in the kitchen of the woman across from her. She looked into Mac's brown eyes. Behind her, toward the back of the room, stood Officer al-Surah and Harm.

"You're Persian, aren't you?" the woman fingering her teacup said curiously to the lady marine.

Mac smiled slightly and ducked her head while fingering her own teacup. "Second generation. My grandmother was Persian." She looked back at this woman Officer al-Surah had brought them to meet. "Actually, if you don't mind me saying so, your English is very good."

The woman smiled. "I was a secretary in a diplomatic counsel office in Baghdad…my job was to act as translator for my employer. I must say you surprised me with your mastery of Arabic, Colonel. I barely noticed your American accent."

Years ago Mac had been stunned and angered by a similar comment made by that Iranian double agent that had helped her and Harm get Jack Keeter out of an Iranian military prison. But that had been different circumstances. He was deliberately trying to make the marine attorney feel ill at ease. This woman was merely trying to compliment Mac's mastery of a language that was foreign to her.

Mac smiled. She had impressed this woman by trying to learn her language, just maybe it would be enough to get her to give the information the JAG attorneys needed. "Thank you," she said with heartfelt emotion, "Mrs. Tlass it would help us immensely if you could tell us more about your son, Rafid."

The woman nodded. "He is a good boy," she began as she started to get up and get her teapot that was warming on the stove, "Captain Jalloud was like a father to him."

Mac picked up on that cue. Rafid T'lass was still alive. She looked momentarily at Harm before she continued. "Where do you think he and Khalil went?" she inquired gently.

Mrs. T'lass returned with the teapot. "I cannot say," she said firmly. Seeing the slight disappointment in the marine's face, she offered her some more tea. Mac nodded her acceptance. Mrs. Tlass refilled her cup and then returned to her seat and began pouring herself some more tea. As she faced Mac again, she looked down at her teacup. "However, as boys, Rafid and Khalil used to visit a farm west of here on the weekends."

Mac's heartbeat quickened again. This might be the clue they were looking for.

Mrs. T'lass went on to explain. "After Rafid's father was killed in the fighting in Khuzestan when Saddam invaded Iran back in the 1980's, his friend Khalil used to take him out there. There was a girl there who they used to help with chores," She gave Mac a knowing smile, "I think they were both in love with her."

Mac nodded. Without directly telling them and betraying a trust, this woman had given them indirectly, the answer they needed – or at least another piece to the answer they needed.

She stood when Rafid's mother stood. "Thank you for your time, Mrs. T'lass."

The older woman took Mac's hands in hers. "May you find the answers you're seeking Colonel."

Marla and Carly entered the darkened store through their 'mouse hole' as did the rest of the FAST team through theirs. The surprise was complete. Amidst the swirling smoke, gunfire erupted here and there as a terrorist tried to respond and was quickly dispatched by a FAST team member.

Carly covered Marla as the Sergeant slowly, quietly made her way through the smoke filled interior toward the front of the building. They were looking for the stairwell that would lead to the area of the store where the manager's office used to be.

Marla motioned to the Major when they heard the creaking of wooden floorboards above their heads. The marine major nodded her understanding. Marla turned back around and began moving forward. According to the plans shown to them by Sergeant Burns, (the stairway had to…be…right…) there it was in front of her. Shafts of late afternoon light came through the bullet holes. Combined with the persistent smoke, it gave the stairwell and the surrounding area an ethereal look.

Cautiously she started toward the stairwell entrance. In the background, she could hear the confused firefight continuing. Marla put her right foot on the first step, then her left foot, then her right foot on the second step and so on until she reached the turn in the stairwell as she started to take another step—

"ALLAH AKBAR!"

The wounded terrorist screamed as he charged down the stairs toward her.

He fired a short burst from the hip with his AK-74 automatic rifle, catching Marla in her arm and thigh.

Marla reacted automatically despite her surprise and the pain that exploded in her arm and leg, returning fire as best as she could.

Both tumbled back down the stairway and landed in a bloody heap in front of Major Clemons.

Carly couldn't move or speak. Marla wasn't moving, but the terrorist still was.

"LOOK OUT MAJOR!"

She felt John Burford brush past her. The navy commander fired a three round burst into the dying terrorist who was in the process of aiming his rifle at her.

The gunman collapsed on top of Marla who still had not moved. John swiftly went over to the unconscious marine sergeant's side.

"She's still breathing!" he reported to the Major.

All she could do was nod numbly.

"C'mon! Give me a hand with her!" John ordered.

Carly stood rooted to the spot, staring at the bloody mess. It was her fault that Marla Givers lay there wounded, possibly dying. She had goaded and rode the sergeant, wanting her to be a better marine, but in trying to improve her, Carly Clemons had made Marla too nervous to do her job and now they both were paying the price.

"MAJOR! SNAP TO!"

John barked as he grabbed Marla in a rough fireman's carry. As he started back towards Carly, the major started providing cover fire for John's exit from the 'mouse hole'.

Gibbs scrutinized the smoking building "Something's not right…" he said more to himself than anyone else. He laid the sniper rifle down and began moving toward the store.

"Where are you going, Boss?" his senior field agent asked.

"Inside," Gibbs said over his shoulder "Cover me DiNozzo…."

Tony looked askance at the Admiral and Gunny, as the senior NCIS special agent headed toward the FAST team 'mouse holes'.

AJ sighed heavily, silently cursing strong-willed, independent marines. "Go with him, Agent DiNozzo, we'll cover you."

Gibbs reached the entry holes made by the FAST team just in time to see Commander Burford coming out through one followed by Major Clemons.

"Where's the rest of the team?" Gibbs asked

"Inside," John replied as he gently laid Marla on the asphalt near the drainage ditch.

Gibbs looked at her wounds – if the bleeding was stopped in time and she didn't go into shock, she'd live.

Without saying another word, the senior NCIS agent ducked inside the smoking mouse hole.

Tony DiNozzo ran up breathlessly beside the two JAG Corps attorneys who were taking care of an unconscious female sergeant. The former Baltimore PD detective bent over, trying to catch his breath.

"Where…is…he…?" he huffed out between breaths.

John pointed at the smoking hole. "He just went in through that hole-"

Without saying anything else to the two JAG, Tony started moving toward the hole when the silver haired NCIS special agent suddenly appeared in the smoke, his arm around a wounded corporal from the FAST team.

"Boss…!" Tony said startled by man's sudden re-appearance.

"Tony," Gibbs handed the wounded man over to Agent DiNozzo, "Take him back to the Admiral's position; I'm going back inside…."

The NCIS agent was torn as to what he should do. "But boss-"

Gibbs made the decision an easy one. "Now DiNozzo! MOVE IT!"

Tony's response was automatic. He grabbed the wounded corporal, "On it, boss!"

With that Special Agent Gibbs went back inside the stygian gloom of the abandoned building.

Hammad and an older man stood in the empty stockroom. The smoke was still thin here and the American anti-terrorist soldiers had not made it this far into the store, yet.

"Nasim, my old friend, it is time for me to report back to Samir, I wish you well in your imminent fight with Americans," Hammad put on a baseball cap and windbreaker that read 'NCIS'.

Nasim nodded his approval of the man's latest look, "Not even Gibbs himself would recognize you,"

Hammad gave him a quick smile, "That is my fervent wish, my friend." Nasim gave him a brief smile back.

The terrorist leader then turned and headed for the overflow drain in the stockroom. He turned back one last time to see his older friend headed for the roof stairwell.

"Go with God, Nasim."

On the roof of the abandoned store, CIA Special Agent Clayton Webb waited for his quarry to appear. He had wanted to help the Major when she was killing those lookouts, but he was after much bigger prey. So he stayed out of sight behind the roof stairwell entrance, waiting for Hammad Faoud al-Harib to appear. His patience was rewarded as his quarry pushed open the stairwell door.

"That's far enough Hammad," snapped Clayton as he trained his 9 millimeter handgun on the terrorist leader.

The older man froze at the sound of the Special Agent's voice. Then with his back still toward Webb, he began smiling.

"Special Agent Clayton Webb," he purred, "How nice to 'see' you again…."

"Turn around slowly, al-Harib," Clayton ordered keeping his pistol pointed at the man. "Hands in the air."

Nasim/Hammad, still smiling, complied.

"Well I'll be damned," said AJ as he momentarily lowered his rifle and then raised it again to look through the sights to make sure what he was seeing wasn't a trick of the eyes.

"What is it sir?" Gunny was curious to know what the Admiral was seeing that made him smile.

"It seems that your erstwhile partner caught al-Harib trying to leave the party early,"

"Where sir?"

"Towards the back of that roof—damn!"

"Sir?"

"One of Hammad's men jumped Clayton," AJ growled. "Stay here Gunny…." The JAG got up and sprinted toward the building.

"Uh…Yes sir….." was all he could say.

"Mr. Webb, it was foolish of you to come up here without backup," the man who looked like Hammad said snidely.

Clayton answered back with some bravado of his own, "Who says I didn't?"

'Hammad' laughed at the man's pathetic attempt to intimidate him.

"Well, no matter; when your military lawyers watch me execute you in full view of them, they will understand that Allah makes us invincible," 'Hammad' barked a command to his confederate holding Clayton, just as AJ Chegwidden had pulled himself onto the roof.

The JAG mentally braced himself and charged at the man holding the CIA Agent.

'Hammad' was stunned to see the navy admiral charging toward the two men. One moment his man was holding that infernal CIA Agent, and the next, his man Hadeed and Agent Webb were sprawled on the roof with the Admiral delivering several pummeling blows to the terrorist's face.

Clay rolled clear and grabbed for his Glock from where he had dropped it.

But 'Hammad' already had it in his hands and had it pointed between Clay's eyes.

John and Carly had improvised a stretcher and were carrying it back to where Gunny Galindez was now standing.

"Gunnery Sergeant?" John turned in the direction Victor was looking. He saw an older Arabic man pointing a pistol at the CIA Agent.

John looked over at Ron Beck who had moved back into the trench and retrieved his sniper rifle.

"Beck?"

Beck re-shouldered the rifle and aimed toward the building roof. "Sir, I have a clear shot," he reported.

"You, JAG Admiral; get off Hadeed," 'Hammad' ordered brusquely, motioning with the agent's pistol, "You, Agent Webb; get over here."

Clay glimpsed at the unmoving man. "Your man is unconscious, al-Harib" the CIA Agent observed.

'Hammad' looked out of the corner of his eyes over at the man. "He will be all right," Then he pointed the pistol at the Admiral. "However, you will not be…."

John took stock of the situation. What Beck called a 'clear shot' through his binoculars looked a lot more like a miniscule amount of space between 'Hammad', the admiral, and the CIA Agent.

"Commander, do I take the shot?" asked Ron.

"Sir?"

"Sir?"

John closed his eyes and hoped that Beck was not an erratic performer.

"Do it!"

'Al-Harib' stiffened at the report of Beck's rifle.

"No!" Clayton barked in frustration.

AJ looked over toward the drainage ditch and gave the 'cease fire' signal.

Al-Harib reeled forward and fell onto a pile of discarded roof gravel.

Clayton Webb grabbed the dying man roughly.

"Tell me who sent you to do this Hammad," Clay ordered.

The older Arab coughed and smiled malevolently. "I…will tell you…nothing…."

Webb gave the man his best impression of a concerned man. "You're dying al-Harib, don't you want to enter paradise? The only way to do so is to clear your conscience…."

The man looked balefully at the American spy. "My conscience…is clear…American…."

The CIA Agent grabbed the dying terrorist by the front of his shirt and began shaking him.

"Dammit Hammad! Tell me who sent you!"

The old man unperturbed by the agent's tactics, continued smiling. "One of your own…." He allowed, "By the time…you find…them…it will be…too…late…."

Clayton's worst fears were confirmed.

"Hammad? What do you mean 'them'? Hammad? Hammad!" Clayton began to furiously shake Hammad who was now limp in his arms.

AJ walked over and put his hand on Clay's shoulder.

"Let it go, Webb, the man's dead."

Clayton Webb, his head still down over the dead man, began to shake. He slowly turned his head and looked at the Admiral. There were tears in the Agent's eyes. "Dammit AJ! We needed that information!"

The JAG once again felt a brief upwelling of sympathy for Special Agent Webb. "C'mon Webb…."

Clay shook off the offered hand away. "No Admiral; you don't understand. Until we know exactly who it was that sent al-Harib and his men on this suicide mission, Sarah, Harm, Bud and Sturgis are in grave danger! Hammad was our only chance at finding out who is behind this! Don't you see?"

AJ was stunned. Clay had used Harm and Mac's given names before, but never Lieutenant Roberts' or Commander Turner's. Did this have anything to do with the chemical weapons Webb had been telling him about just before al-Harib's assault? The JAG felt his anger building. He grabbed the CIA Agent by his suit front and slammed him up against one of the building's air conditioning units.

"The only one in grave danger around here right now is *you* because I just might throw *you* off this building!"

AJ leaned in close until he was nose to nose with sorry excuse for a spy.

"Thanks to your harebrained operation, unwittingly involving *my* staff judge advocates, you caused a terrorist assault on my office, got *my* people wounded and killed! My command is a bullet riddled ruin courtesy of my involvement with you!"

A look of cold fury washed over the JAG's features. Clayton had only seen that look a few times in his life and each time he did he wished he was anywhere else but standing in front of AJ Chegwidden.

"I regret that first day I let your sorry ass into my office! You told me about how my people could help rescue the Declaration of Independence, which it turns out had been stolen in the first place because of your dammed shenanigans! " The JAG roared. AJ was this close to hitting the man.

Clayton Webb opened and closed his mouth like a landed fish.

AJ pulled himself back from the brink of unrestrained anger, but his fury was still evident in his words. "Well, no more *Mr. Webb*! This is the last damn straw!"

He shoved the Special Agent back away from him.

"You stay away from my office, my staff judge advocates, and most of all, me, because if you don't, I'll nail your ass to that memorial wall down at Langley! Do you *read me* mister?"

"Now get the hell out of my way! I've got dead and wounded people to tend to thanks to you!"

As AJ strode over to the ladder and headed back down to the parking lot.

Clayton Webb stood looking blankly out at the early evening Falls Church skyline.

Smoke was still rising from the direction of JAG Headquarters. Military helos of every description were hustling back and forth across the city, their searchlights piercing the reddish gray sky, looking for additional terrorists, sirens of every kind created a cacophony of chaos.

The CIA Agent bowed his head and wept.

-TBC…


	40. Chapter 39

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 39

0602 Local

Al Karib Farm

West of Mirbullah

Dawn was just beginning to break as Harm pulled the Hum-vee into the farmyard. The old man tending his oxen looked warily at the American military vehicle and the two soldiers getting out it They were accompanied by a blue and white Iraqi police cruiser.

Sarah MacKenzie gave the farmer a gentle smile. " I wish to speak to Izdihar" My name is Sarah MacKenzie/Sayida ya ustaz, ism-i Sari MacKenzie

The tension in the farmer's body lessened a little, but he was still worried as to why this American woman wanted to speak with his daughter.

"Why do you want to speak to her? She has done nothing wrong…. he asked defensively, while eyeing them and Izdihar's old suitor.

Mac tried a disarming smile. "We need her help in locating two men. They, and she, could help save two soldiers' lives."

He had apparently heard about the killing of Lieutenant Dodge and the hearing. She could tell he was wavering. "It's very important. Please."

The farmer was still suspicious. "What two men are you looking for?"

Haskim al-Surah walked over and handed the man two mug shot photographs.

"We're looking for Rafid Tlass and Khalil As'sam."

The farmer's face hardened. "She does not know them," he said gruffly turning away from them, "Please leave, Haskim."

Harm spoke up this time. "Please sir, it's very important that we find them. Your daughter is our only hope."

He stood with his back to the Iraqi policeman and the two American officers. "This is really none of our concern-"

Al-Surah moved closer to the farmer, "Actually it is very much our concern. The Mujahideen that Saddam brought here in the last hours of his regime may be responsible for the American's death."

The farmer turned abruptly to face him.

Al-Surah gave the man a fierce stare. One he usually reserved for interrogating criminals. "Do you wish for those foreign mercenaries to continue to get away with cold blooded murder? Running our lives?"

The farmer exchanged solemn looks with the Iraqi policeman for a moment before a young woman with a slight build and rich dark hair came out of the stable.

When she saw the two American soldiers and her friend Haskim talking to her father, she stopped where she was. Her brow furrowed in confusion.

The farmer became aware through Haskim looking over his shoulder that his daughter was behind him. He turned and looked harshly at her.

"Go inside Izdihar," he ordered

She hesitated.

"Go inside. Now."

"Izdihar, where are Khalil and Rafid?" asked al-Surah.

"I-I should go inside," she said giving her father a fleeting look.

"Izdihar, they are not in trouble," the Iraqi police officer attempted to explain, "These Americans need their help."

All could see the young woman was torn between obeying her father and helping Haskim.

Her father's face shifted from stern to sympathetic. "You don't have to do this Izdihar. Go inside. I will take Haskim and the Americans to them."

"No father, they are my friends." She surveyed the American woman standing before her. "You're a marine?" she asked curiously.

Mac nodded. "Yes, I am."

"Are you a lawyer?" she further probed.

Mac looked over at Harm. Who quickly nodded. If Izdihar was going to help them, she'd have to know who she was dealing with.

An annoyed look crossed her pretty face. "Our crops were destroyed by one of your large personnel carriers a few weeks ago," she said harshly. Haskim and I will lead you to Khalil and Rafid, if you help us get payment for our damaged crops.

"We will Izdihar," Harm said firmly.

She smiled at the tall handsome American.

"And no harm will come to my friends?" she looked back sternly at Mac.

"No harm will come to your friends," Mac answered, "You have my word as a United States Marine."

Izdihar looked over at her father and nodded. They both smiled.

Alan Mattoni had his hands full at the moment. With the Admiral working with NCIS and the FAST Team to chase down remnants of the terrorist cell, he had to coordinate the search, rescue, and recovery operations in and around the Welles Building.

While actual damage from the smoke and flames was superficial, the large and small caliber arms damage was not, not to mention the mouse hole blown in the building's north wall.

The structural engineering team would arrive momentarily to let him know if the building was in danger of collapsing. If not, then he could send corpsmen inside to retrieve the dead and seriously wounded.

There were now three platoons of Marine infantry – one had set up positions in the courtyard, the second near the shattered guardhouse, and the third just past the two smoking wrecks where all the fighting began.

It was obvious that the news media couldn't be held at bay forever. Sooner or later, like a pack of wild dogs, they would be scrambling over each other, taking exclusive shots of the damaged building and wanting to know what the JAG had to say about this attack.

He hoped that the Admiral returned soon.

"Commander."

Alan prayed it wasn't a report that another body had been found.

It wasn't; it was Harriet Sims.

"What is it Lieutenant?" Alan asked evenly, "I'm kind of busy right now…."

"Yes sir, I understand that-"

"But there's something I need to know, right?"

"Yes sir; Mrs. Dodge…there's a chance she is being held by the terrorists in one of their safe houses."

"What? How did you know that?" He snapped. This was the last thing he needed right now.

"The documents that Petty Officer Coates found in that reference book list two safe houses in the neighborhood where she lives, sir." Harriet said firmly, standing her ground. "Her house and the one two blocks away."

Alan saw that Harriet Beaumont Sims was not wavering in the least; she firmly believed what she was telling him.

Alan sighed heavily. "Lieutenant, this is not a psychic impression is it?" He knew that Harriet and Mac were good friends and awareness about Colonel MacKenzie's 'abilities' were common water cooler knowledge. It might be possible that Harriet and Mac shared this ability.

Harriet's eyes flew wide open in surprise. "No sir!" she replied incredulously. Then she quickly recovered. "Deductive reasoning sir…."

Alan was floored. "Deductive reasoning?" he repeated.

"Yes sir," Harriet nodded elaborating, "If the terrorists still have Mrs. Dodge and are questioning her about the location of the book, then it would be logical for them to either interrogate her at her apartment or the other safe house."

Alan was silent. Damn her, she was right.

"We have a duty to find her, sir," Harriet added.

"If he's still alive, Lieutenant," Alan tried to temper the woman's impulsiveness but knew deep down it was a losing proposition. "They may have already killed her-"

"We don't know that, sir," Harriet fired right back, "We owe it to her husband to try and rescue her."

Alan tried rational logic. It's what Mac used with Harm. "We should let the local authorities handle this, Lieutenant."

"They have their hands full right now, sir, as does NCIS." Harriet's sparking blue eyes pled with the Commander. "Please sir, we have to try."

Alan shook his head and then gave her a hard look, "You've been taking lessons from Rabb, haven't you?"

Harriet smiled her best disarming smile, "He's a good teacher, sir."

Alan Mattoni looked over at the shattered Welles building and then back at Harriet.

"Damn," he muttered under his breath.

"Okay Lieutenant, but you're not going, that's an order!"

"Aye, aye, sir," said Harriet brightly.

Alan looked around the courtyard and saw the two best people to mount a rescue operation.

"Major McBurney, Commander Coleman,"

Both stopped their conversation. "Yes, sir?" said Jack.

Pick a squad of volunteers for a possible hostage rescue operation. Lieutenant Sims will give you the details…."

0710 Local

West of Mirbullah

Izdihar carefully let herself down into the dry canal bed. At the top, Harm, Mac and Haskim stood holding the rope, bracing themselves so they could control her decent.

When she reached bottom, she undid her line and tugged on the rope as a signal for the next person to come down.

Haskim next fit himself into an improvised rope sling and let himself down into the canal.

Then Mac followed. Harm, despite his desire to be down there with them knew someone had to stay topside to help the others back up and serve as lookout.

Izdihar lead the Iraqi police officer and the lady JAG to what looked like a storm sewer pipe.

"Rafid? Rafid! It's me, Izdihar…."

Mac watched as Captain Jalloud's tank gunner appeared at the mouth of the pipe opening.

He eyed suspiciously the American and the police officer that used to be his friend, then gave Izdihar an angry look. "Why did you bring them here?" Anger born of fear laced his words to her.

She understood his anger and his fear. She gently took his hand to reassure him. "Rafid, Haskim and Colonel MacKenzie need your help," she looked at Khalil who was now standing behind the gunner, "and Khalil's."

"What for?" The distrust in his voice was becoming stronger. "Why would I want to help the Americans. They got Captain Jalloud killed."

"To save the lives of two American Marine pilots accused of a murder they didn't commit," replied Mac in Arabic

"Ah, your Lieutenants Lukens and Buell," Khalil said haughtily. "Tell me Colonel, why is it so important to save these two Marines? Are they better than anyone else?"

"Khalil!" Izdihar said sharply.

"No, Izdihar, he has a right to know," said Mac solemnly holding Khalil's gaze with her pretty brown eyes. "It's important to me and to my partner because they are our clients and we do not let innocent men to be sentenced to death for something they did not do."

"We are wasting our time, Colonel," Haskim hissed, disgust evident in his voice. "Khalil probably doesn't care that al-Sahood's men killed his commander and Lieutenant Dodge. He and Rafid will be of no help to us."

Now it was Izdihar's turn. Her pretty green eyes plead with the two former Republican Guard soldiers. "Rafid, Khalil; you have a chance to avenge Captain Jalloud's death…isn't that what you want?"

Harm helped Mac up out of the dry canal.

"Well?"

Mac motioned with her head in the direction of the concrete gully. "See for yourself,"

The navy commander shot her a bewildered look before he had to grab hold of the rope as the next person began to pull themselves up.

To Harm's surprise it wasn't Izdihar or Haskim. It was Khalil, Captain Jalloud's driver.

The aviator/attorney turned his head and gave Mac his patented grin. She returned his smile.

Crystal Valley Apartments

Falls Church, Virginia

Faith Coleman's Saturn Vue pulled into the side street adjacent to the Crystal Valley apartments. Behind them, Jason Tiner's Dodge Durango, one of the few vehicles in the JAG Corps parking lot to survive intact, silently rolled to a stop.

"Well if this is their safe house it's not obvious," the major quipped as he chambered a round in his pistol and put it on safe. Likewise the two soldiers in the back of Faith's SUV put their weapons on safe.

Based on Harriet's information from the cell's document the safe houses were positioned in apartments that could watch the other. In case of problems at one location, the other safe house could quickly ascertain what kind of danger existed at the other hideout.

"That is why it is called a safe house Major," Faith replied dryly as she pulled down her mirror and touched up her make up again – why she had insisted on putting on civilian clothes when they were back at JAG, he didn't know.

Right now he had other things weighing on his mind – like what if Harriet's intel was wrong, or Mrs. Dodge was already dead, or part of the cell, what was the best way to assault a safe house, and how many would they lose in this assault?

"Well if she's in there, we need to find out if she is still alive," he stated

"Leave that to me, Major," Faith said as she unbuckled her seatbelt. Now he understood why she had on civilian clothes.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a minute!" Jack said abruptly grabbing her arm, "Where do you think you're going?"

Faith looked down icily at the offending hand then back the marine JAG attorney. "Is this some kind of misplaced chivalry, Major McBurney?" She raised one eyebrow while questioning him.

"It is if you're thinking of pulling a John Wayne because of what Ducky said to you," he replied hotly.

Her face became like stone. "This has nothing to do with what Dr. Mallard said to me. This has to do with rescuing Mrs. Dodge from the terrorists."

She looked down again at the offending hand. "Please let go of my arm, Major,"

Jack let go, but he wasn't about to lose this argument.

"Look, Commander, I appreciate your bravery and initiative, but you can't act like Teddy Roosevelt and go charging up San Juan Hill!"

Faith again arched her eyebrow at him. "Are you concerned for my personal well being, Major?"

That flustered him.

"Well…yes…I mean no, I mean…I can't believe I'm saying this to you of all people, Commander we need to have a better plan,"

That thin smile that intrigued and exasperated Jack at the same time, crossed Faith Coleman's lips.

"This is the best plan available Major. The terrorists are less likely to see a woman, as a threat to them." She paused for effect, eyeing him appraisingly, "But they would immediately perceive you in that role."

Jack wasn't sure what to make of her comment or the look she gave him, so he decided to refrain from comment for the moment. If he didn't know better, he would have sworn she was flirting with him. Nah.

"You and the security squad will get yourselves into position while I walk up and create a distraction,"

As if to emphasize her point, she unpinned her precisely pinned up bun and let her long brown hair cascade down her shoulders. Knowing she had the attention of all the men in the car, she shook her hair so it fell naturally around her shoulders.

Jack's brain was having trouble right at that moment remembering she was a JAG. The two Marines in the back of the SUV were similarly agog.

Having gained their full attention, she continued relaying her plan. "I'll pose as a door to door salesman looking for a particular apartment."

That last comment snapped his brain back into gear.

"You can't be serious-" he stopped himself remembering this was Faith Coleman he was talking to. He quickly decided to shift gears and try a different tact. "You can't pose as an Avon lady…much less a disorganized one," he added wryly.

Faith failed to see the humor in his statement.

"Please have the squad ready when I walk up to the door, Major. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to finish getting ready…." She fished in her purse for a pair of horn rimmed glasses.

"Um, yeah…right…." Jack said uncertain what she planned to do. He and the other two soldiers opened their doors so they could get out and meet with the rest of the squad.

As Khalil and Rafid started to get in the back of Harm and Mac's HMMWV, Rafid stopped. Haskim was getting ready take Izhidar back to her family.

"Commander, Colonel, another moment of your time…."

The two JAG Corps attorneys exchanged puzzled looks. "What's on your mind Rafid?" Harm inquired.

"Would it be beneficial to your case to have the mastermind of the Mirbullah ambush that lead to Lieutenant Dodge's death?"

Harm's expression changed from puzzled to serious. "You can lead us to al-Sahood?"

Rafid shook his head while smiling. "Al-Sahood sanctioned this ambush, but he did not plan it. I know the architect of this plan because he is from my village."

Harm traded hopeful looks. This might be the break they were looking for.

"Is he in the village now?" Mac asked.

"Yes he is; his wife and child are there," Rafid confirmed.

"How far is this village?" The lady Marine was beginning to feel this case had more tangling threads than a frayed shawl.

"A two hour drive west of here," he replied.

The navy Commander's face took on that look he had when he was doggedly pursuing the truth. She knew exactly what he was going to say next.

"Mac we can't both go after this man. You go back and prepare the opening arguments for the trial."

"And if you're not back in time?" Why was she asking this, she thought disgustedly, she already knew the answer.

"Then you can do the opening arguments, Mac," he said trying to sound logical.

She shook her head. "No Navy, I've got the language skills. You go prepare and do the opening arguments. I'll go after Rafid's friend."

Now it was Harm's turn to shake his head. "No Mac, it's a different world out there,"

That kind of statement always rankled her. It was like his 'man's country' speech he gave her when they were chasing down another terrorist in Afghanistan.

"Harm, I think I'm better suited to do this," she fired back. "I'm at least of Persian descent; I blend in better."

"Begging your pardon, Colonel," Khalil spoke for the first time since this exchange began, "Your heritage is precisely why you should not come with us."

"I'm not sure I follow…." Mac replied. If that Squid even hinted he was gloating over this, she'd slug him.

"There are some of my countrymen who blame your native country for our current ills. It might not be safe for you there," al-Surah added gingerly.

Mac gave the man a strained, but understanding smile. "I appreciate your concern Officer al-Surah, but I can handle myself."

Haskim tried to reason with her. "Colonel, there are some of my countrymen who would love to take you as a hostage. At this point in time I don't think your military can afford such an embarrassing incident."

It was obvious to her that neither of these men were going to let her put herself in harm's way, so to speak. Not with so much at stake.

"Okay," she acquiesced grudgingly, "I'll take care of the opening arguments and jury selection process…."

Harm gave her his cocky Flyboy grin. "We'll take Haskim's patrol car. I promise you can play in the traffic next time…."

She shook her head and gave him a sarcastic smirk "I'll hold you to that promise, Squid."

Harm started to give his own witty comeback when his phone began ringing.

Adirah was not sure what to do about the mousy looking woman coming up her walkway. So far, with only a few hitches, their ad-hoc plan to destroy OJAG had succeeded, according to the latest news reports.

Despite her wish to become part of the mayhem and kill as many infidels as possible before succumbing to glorious martyrdom, she reminded herself her job was to make sure the safe houses remained secure and undetected.

Killing this young woman walking up to her apartment would serve no purpose other than to alert the authorities to their presence and possibly destroy their cell.

No, she would just have to get the woman to go away.

As soon as the door chime rang, Adirah took a deep cleansing breath to calm herself and then opened the door.

"Yes?" She said anxiously. Considering her television, which could be seen from the front door, was on ZNN and they were broadcasting the latest news from the attack site, the American would understand her anxiousness.

The mousy woman pushed up her horn-rimmed glasses and smiled as if embarrassed. "I'm terribly sorry to disturb you," she began stiffly, "I'm looking for 121 Cloverdale…."

Adirah had to hide her smirk. This woman was obviously one of those home demonstration salespersons judging from that oversized suitcase she was lugging with her.

The terrorist slowly let herself relax. This woman certainly wasn't any threat to her….

"Cloverdale is two blocks that way," Adirah tried not to sound too superior to this obviously slow witted woman, but it was hard not too as she pointed back in the direction the saleswoman came from.

The saleswoman craned her head back in the direction Adirah was pointing. She turned back and gave her a tittering laugh that the terrorist found extremely annoying.

The woman pushed up her horn-rimmed glasses off the tip of her nose. "Oh, thank you," she said with what Adirah guessed was dawning embarrassment, "I'm terribly sorry to have disturbed you, have a good afternoon…."

A part of Adirah felt sorrow for this poor creature, (probably her first job) but that fact was outweighed by her need to keep alert in case Hammad and the others arrived.

"That's all right," the terrorist said firmly but with a wan sympathetic smile as she started to shut the door on her goofy face. She didn't listen to what else the woman was saying. She had wasted enough time with this infidel.

Adirah was shocked beyond belief as the mousy woman's arm wrapped itself around her windpipe and squeezed hard.

"Make a sound, make any movement, and I will crush your windpipe," growled the woman.

Adirah lambasted herself. This mousy woman was obviously a strong-arm thief. How could she have been so stupid?

"Please," Adirah said trying to sound frightened, "My money is in the bureau by the sofa, take it all…."

The woman ignored her plea "How many are in the house?"

The terrorist did not know what to make of her question. The woman tightened her grip "I won't ask again; how many are in the house?" she demanded harshly.

The slow-wittedness in her voice and actions was gone. Adirah had severely misjudged this woman, whoever she was.

"Just myself…." she barely choked out, the pain was becoming excruciating. She struggled to take in air.

"Where are the hostages?"

That request hit her like a bolt of lightning.

"There are…no hostages…." Adirah replied confused. She was starting to see dark spots swimming before her eyes.

"The hostages!" barked the mousy woman, "Where—are-they?" Her voice sounded to Adirah as if it were coming from the end of long metal tube. The terrorist was now gasping for air. If only she could have reached for her knife, then this infidel would have been the one clawing for her life instead of her.

Part of Adirah did not want to die like this. She heard her own tinny voice betraying her "Two…down…stairs…."

"They're downstairs!" She heard an underwater voice boom.

Adirah saw three heavily armed US Marines rush past her just before she lost consciousness.

Harm flipped open his phone "Rabb,"

"Harm? It's Teresa. I've got some news for you, but you aren't going to like it."

Harm eyed his partner as he spoke into his phone. "What is it Teresa?" Mac moved closer to the tall naval commander.

"As I suspected…this autopsy report is junk…."

Harm had expected she'd uncover new evidence, but not this. "Dodge's autopsy report is junk, Teresa?" he repeated for Mac's benefit. "What do you mean?"

He heard the medical forensic specialist sigh on the other end. "With so many bodies coming through, it was bound to happen…."

"They faked his autopsy report, Commander? That's just not poss-"

It was clear that Teresa Coulter was becoming irked by Harm's sweeping statement. "Somebody with pull rammed this one through the system, Commander," her terse voice cut Harm off, "with finesse, of course, but they still rammed it through."

Harm's eyes betrayed to Mac a growing sense of bewilderment at Commander Coulter's findings.

"Find out what you can," he said slowly.

He could hear the determination in her voice before she cut the connection. "I will. I'll call you back when I know more. Talk to you later."

"Thanks Teresa," The aviator/lawyer was still unsure about the information that Teresa had revealed to him.

"Harm?" Mac didn't like the shocked look on Flyboy's face. "What is it Harm?"

The tall naval commander turned his shocked face toward her. "Teresa…Commander Coulter…she's confirmed one of my theories…."

Mac felt a pinprick of unease. "One of 'your theories', Harm? What are you talking about?"

Harm couldn't look his partner directly in the eyes. "I, uh, had a suspicion, that Lieutenant Dodge's autopsy report had been doctored…."

The lady JAG's eyebrows knitted in confusion. "Doctored?" Harm nodded.

"And you didn't tell me about this?" Mac reached out to him, touching his arm. "Why Harm? Why didn't you tell me?"

The navy Commander pulled away from her. "It was just a theory Mac," He tried to brush his oversight aside.

Mac felt her frustration rising. "Harm, I'm your partner, you can't just keep things like this to yourself-"

"What was I supposed to do MacKenzie? Tell you I thought Dodge's autopsy had been faked? You would have told me I've been hanging around Webb too much lately!" Harm immediately wished he could take those words back. He realized he had said more than he should have.

Mac was rocked by the forcefulness of Harm's response, but she was ready to battle back in kind. "Maybe before Paraguay I would have-" She stopped dead in the middle of her angry retort.

"You've seen this kind of work before, haven't you?"

Harm's aqua blue eyes grew stormy as they slid away from her. "We'd better leave,"

The aviator/lawyer said to the Iraqi's, ignoring her question. For their part Rafid and Khalil were not sure what to make of the two lawyers' bizarre behavior. Maybe all Americans acted this way….

As he started away from her, Mac reached out snagged his arm, pulling him around sharply. "Level with me, Navy; you've seen this kind of work before when you were flying for the Company, right?"

Harm's troubled look bored right into her soul. A mixture of anguish and acknowledgement crossed his face.

"We have to go, Mac," he said quietly.

Sarah MacKenzie let go of his arm abruptly. Hot angry tears began streaming down her flushed cheeks.

"Dammit Harm! Talk to me!" she barked at his retreating figure.

The two Iraqi tankers the woman and the police officer looked from the tall American naval lawyer to the obviously distraught Marine lawyer. There was something going on between these two…and more than just a simple lawyer's disagreement. That was pretty obvious.

Harmon Rabb stopped just before he opened the door to the police car. As he turned back to face the pretty Devil Dog, he saw the look of defeat etched on her face.

"Just go," she said wearily, swiping at her tears.

Harm faltered then looked at the ground.

"Mac,"

"Just go Harm," she repeated dully.

Harm and the three Iraqis got into the police cruiser.

Mac couldn't look at the car as it started up and pulled away. She knew that until the last possible second Harm would be staring at her, trying to make her understand. She didn't want to right now. Her emotions were ripping at her, threatening to tear her apart. She had to get out of here. Now.

The lady marine climbed into the HMMWV started it up and pulled back out onto the highway headed back for Mirbullah. Her thoughts swirled around her like angry demons demanding that she acknowledge them.

She had gotten him to admit he had done more than just pilot aircraft for the CIA Air Corps, but she never suspected that he had actually been an agent. It all made sense now. The troubling dreams she had while he had been away, the 'knowledge' that Harm had shared about Clay's motivations for some of the things he did, and most unsettling to her – his willingness to do this.

Because of her, Harm had taken a walk on the dark side. Oh sure, he would never say it was her that pushed him into this, but deep down she knew it was her fault Harmon Rabb had made a deal with the devil.

This man that stood for truth, justice and what was right had been forced into the morally ambiguous life of a CIA Agent. She knew Harm had probably justified, at least in his mind, everything he had to do.

The thing was that while he had accepted this necessary evil, Mac hadn't. In the same way Clay had toyed with her feelings in Paraguay, plucking the appropriate emotional string when necessary, she became single minded in learning all she could from Agent Webb about Harmon Rabb, Junior while he was working for the CIA Air Corps.

If it took sexual blackmail to get the answers she needed, then that's what she'd do; unashamedly. Clay had used her as an emotional life raft and now she had used his feelings for her to get the answers she needed.

Clayton Webb however, was apparently very aware of what she was trying to do. Most of the time, he simply brushed off her requests for information, even if they were tied to promised sexual rewards.

As her nightmares about Harm worsened, she finally gave Clay an ultimatum; get Harm out of the CIA Air Corps or their relationship was over. It was sexual and emotional brinksmanship, but it worked.

A month later, a ZNN crew which just happened to be on board USS SeaHawk filming some local interest stories got the scoop of the century as a damaged C-130 made an incredible emergency landing on the carrier's deck.

There for everyone to see was pilot Harmon Rabb, Junior holding a child and walking away from the intact craft. Harm's co-pilot was conveniently nowhere to be found.

Mac had looked up at the JAG Corps television monitors with pride at what her former partner had done, but tempered with regret at what she was doing to Harm. But she was righting a wrong. It was her actions in Paraguay that got him into this mess in the first place, now she was going to make amends by getting him out of there and back into JAG.

She had never stopped to think that bridges had been crossed and burned that might never be repaired.

The document doctoring was only a small part of it. The Harmon Rabb, Junior she knew had changed and it scared her.

Faith Coleman's and Jason Tiner's SUVs pulled into the JAG Headquarters' parking lot just as the sun was setting. Floodlights were now bathing the shattered Welles building in a harsh white light.

Standing among a group of reporters from various news agencies, AJ focused on the SUVs when he saw them glide to a stop.

"That will be all for now ladies and gentlemen, please excuse me…thank you…."

Ignoring the yelled questions the reporters were continuing to lob at him, the JAG walked away from the crowd that was now being held back by a mixture of JAG security and Marines brought in from 8th and I, and toward the people who started to get out of the two vehicles.

Faith and another soldier who had been attending to a female Arab woman came to attention. Jack and the other soldiers did the same.

"Admiral," Faith said in a rigid tone.

"As you were," AJ said quickly to the assembled group.

"Commander, Major, who do we have here?" He inquired as he observed the unconscious woman they held upright.

Faith Coleman cleared her throat looking at the unconscious Arab and then back at the JAG. "This is Adirah Faghami, sir, as identified by Lieutenant Sims' papers…."

"Is that a fact?" AJ said looking coolly at the female terrorist. He turned back to Jack McBurney who was standing with another woman and a man of Arab descent. "And who are these two, Major?"

"Fazirah Dodge and her brother, Dr. Hamid Abd al Bari, Admiral," he replied. The two smiled at the JAG.

AJ looked startled for a moment, and then began grinning at the two junior officer JAG Corps attorneys.

"Hoohah,"

[part two]

Secret Service Agent Kate Todd was talking into her lapel mike as she walked in front of Secretary of the Navy Edward Sheffield and conservatively dressed Deputy Secretary of State Anna Eliot.

Ms. Eliot scanned the battered building. "How bad was it Edward?" She was one of the few in the Department of State that could get away with calling him 'Edward'.

"Well Anna, it was really not as serious as ZNN would like to make people think it was. The building actually was not that badly damaged."

Anna Eliot gave him a sour look. "I'm not talking about the building Edward, I'm talking about casualties."

"Of course you are, Anna, sorry. The, ah, latest casualty figures are seventeen killed and fifty injured."

Anna shook her head and heaved a labored sigh. "How many of those killed are civilian casualties?"

The SecNav took off his trademark glasses and wiped the condensation off them. "Thankfully only two – both were killed in the gunfire exchanged between Petty Officer Tiner's car and the terrorists." He elaborated.

The Deputy Secretary fixed him with a pointed stare. "Do we know whose shots killed the civilians?"

"NCIS has been conducting its forensic examination of the ambush scene and the bodies. Doctor Mallard should have an answer for us shortly," Sheffield replied nervously, a sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead.

"Let me know the moment he does," she grunted as she resumed her inspection of the building.

"Of course Anna-" he began. She stopped in her tracks turned and fixed him with menacing look.

"Edward, I can't stress enough how important it is that we show that this attack, though it was daring and spectacular as broadcast by ZNN, was ultimately a failure."

"I understand completely Anna; you'll have the full cooperation of my office and those of Admiral Chegwidden and Director Morrow."

She grimaced at his boundless efforts to appease her. Sometimes she wondered why she put up with him. He was almost as bad as Nelson.

"See that you do," she grunted, "Right now I'm meeting with Congressman Latham to discuss, what, if any, failures in security protocols lead to this attack."

Lead by Agent Todd, Anna Eliot moved away from the SecNav towards Congresswoman Bobbie Latham.

Edward Sheffield stood for a moment looking at the damaged façade of JAG Headquarters. In his mind he was looking at another building.

Shine that light over here!

Can you see him? Can you see him?

Hang on buddy; we're coming to get you!

Get that support beam braced; we've almost got him out!

Get a rope on that beam mister!

Mister!

"Mister Secretary, are you all right?" The JAG was trying to talk to him.

The SecNav smiled disarmingly at the former SEAL. "I'm fine AJ…." he started to say, then he looked AJ right in the eyes as his smirk vanished. "No…no AJ, I'm not fine."

"Sir?" AJ was puzzled and little concerned by this sudden change.

He gave the JAG a tired look. "AJ, did you know I served in the Marines?"

Though the former SEAL was shocked beyond belief, but he didn't let it show. "No Mr. Secretary," he replied.

He took off his glasses and cleaned the lenses again, looking like professor getting ready to give a lecture. "I was with 2-6th, Fox Company, Beruit, in 1983, October 1983 to be exact…."

"The BLT truck bombing," the JAG recalled. He found it hard to believe that same man who was almost out of breath this morning after that brief run had ever been a Marine.

"Yes AJ, I was a company commander out on patrol with my men when the attack took place," The SecNav looked up at the windowless building and then back at Chegwidden.

"I helped my buddies pull the dead and survivors from the rubble of that building for three days." He uncharacteristically put his hand on the navy man's shoulder "It's only because you knew what might happen that we were spared those kind of casualties, AJ."

"Mr. Secretary…." The JAG didn't want the man's praise - Mac had been the one to tip him off to what might happen.

"AJ, I know fifteen of your staff were killed, but your instincts for combat situations kept a lot more people from getting killed…."

(That and Mac's sixth sense….) "The fact that more didn't get killed doesn't make this situation any easier Mr. Secretary…."

The SecNav nodded understandingly. "You're right, AJ. It never does."

Bobbie Latham surveyed the scene. She had been in the JAG Headquarters parking lot many times before when visiting Harm. Now however with all the bullet riddled and burned out vehicles scattered across the lot, it looked so foreign and alien.

Bobbie had been on her fair share of congressional fact finding missions to war torn countries and had even surveyed damage at the Pentagon back in September 2001, but this hit a little too close to home for her.

Seeing the actual damage rather than looking at it on television was something her mind was having trouble accepting. Whosever failure lead to this she would personally roast on an open spit.

"Congresswoman Latham,"

Bobbie saw dark haired Anna Eliot flanked by the Secret Service agent known as 'Rosefern' and another agent.

"Deputy Secretary," she returned coldly "Have they captured the leader of this terrorist attack?"

"No Ms. Latham, they didn't," Anna Eliot said quietly, hoping to keep a few lingering reporters that were still doing location shots from descending upon them.

Congresswoman Latham cast a baleful look at this low level administrative functionary. "Why not? What happened to him? Did he get away?"

"He was killed in a gun battle with JAG Security forces at the vacant Greenway Downs Shopping Village mall just west of here."

"West of here?" Bobbie said, momentarily taken aback. This obvious sign of weakness was quickly replaced by angry indignation, "Why wasn't I informed?"

"Madam Chairwoman, please understand this is a fast developing situation," Anna said trying to soothe the Congresswoman's ruffled feathers.

Bobbie knew what she was doing and brushed aside the woman's comments. "What *I understand* Ms. Eliot, is that we have once again become victims of a terrorist attack on our home soil and as per usual, Congress is left stumbling around blindly in the dark!"

Anna Eliot's eyes widened as she saw her political career going out the window. "Ms. Latham I understand and share your concerns. But rest assured, we will find out how this assault happened and who was responsible."

Bobbie gave her a cruel smile letting her know she was in the driver's seat. "You can start by letting me know more about this battle at that abandoned strip mall."

No political hack was going to blow smoke over this incident.

Anna gave her a defeated look. "As we understand it, Ms. Latham, Admiral Chegwidden was informed by his staff that the terrorist cell was regrouping at the abandoned strip mall for another assault."

"Go on," The Congresswoman was not impressed by this act of humility that Ms. Eliot was handing her.

"Because our reaction forces were still en-route and mainly concerned with restoring order in this immediate area, the Admiral convinced a Fleet Anti-Terrorist team from the assault ship USS Valley Forge to try and disrupt the cell's strategic reserve."

"Well? Did it?" she inquired sharply.

The Deputy Undersecretary nodded. "Yes, they were successful with minimal casualties to themselves but the leader of the cell, whom they were trying to capture alive, was killed."

"Who killed him?" she prodded

A sniper…one of ours," Anna acknowledged, "He was trying to support the FAST team members who had been inadvertently trapped on the roof of the strip mall."

Bobbie cursed this unfortunate incident. Their one hope of finding out who orchestrated this attack on the Welles Building and Office of the Judge Advocate General was gone.

"It wasn't until after the battle that it was learned the cell leader was trying to make an escape and had stumbled upon two soldiers lost in the fog of war." It was a plausible lie, much less frightening than the real truth about what happened.

Anna Eliot silently prayed that the media and Bobbie Latham would never learn about the series of coincidences that lead to the battle at the strip mall or that she would have to testify about it in front of some fact finding congressional committee; especially one lead by one Congresswoman Latham.

So, do they have his body?" Bobbie prodded.

"As we speak the body is being turned over to NCIS for positive identification."

1227 Local

Benzinger's

Falls Church, Virginia

AJ sat at the bar, feeling the burn as the wild turkey trickled down his throat. He wanted to forget the faces, but he couldn't. Like that squad of Seebees that had sacrificed themselves on that make-shift dock in the Mekong Delta, his staff had plunged into danger with the same coolness. He hadn't realized until just now this is probably how Mac and Harm had felt after what the other went through in Paraguay. Why did he let Webb spirit her off to the Chaco Boreal? Was he so angry and disappointed with the Commander that he was subconsciously trying to get him to act? Or was it because he thought Harmon Rabb wasn't up to snuff enough to undertake a CIA Op? Or was it something else? Well, he couldn't ponder those kind of thoughts too deeply right now, he had other concerns.

At least this drink would dull his pain enough for him to make the drive back to his house in McLean. Sure, it was a dangerous gamble, but no worse than others he had taken lately. Then again, there was always the couch in his office. He laughed sardonically (_an office with bullet-hole enhanced ventilation added...)_ then he stopped, realizing how cold that sounded. Men and women had died today. He couldn't give in to gallows humor...he'd lost men before…(_but that was in Vietnam). _

Had it really been that long? In his mind, he replayed every incident involving violence against his staff. Meg being shot by that spy, Hemlock…Harm being tortured by the Chinese…Mac being stalked…Harm, Mac and Bud on those two warships in Black Sea…Harm and Mac being shot down in Russia…Webb's Fiasco at the Sudanese Embassy that almost got them killed…the car bombing right there in JAG parking lot… Harm's crash landing in the Atlantic…Harm nearly being killed by that landmine…Bud having his leg blown off in Afghanistan…Mac's near torture at the hands of Sadik Fahd's goons…Harm and Mac crashing in the Chaco Boreal…. It all seemed…unreal. They were lawyers after all. The worse thing that supposed to happen to you was someone getting bent out of shape and suing you for inadequate counsel. But it seemed like since he came on board, AJ had dealt with combat situations almost as much as he did when he was not a lawyer.

All of them had suffered. All had had to deal with post traumatic stress syndrome and now they were in the thick of it again. His four best lawyers in the middle of deteriorating situation in Mirbullah…Carolyn Imes who the SecNav had pulled from her Italian post was in Bethesda with a concussion…Legalman Jennifer Coates was seriously wounded, Jason Tiner, his Yeoman and right hand man was okay now but if they hadn't stopped that bleeder, AJ most likely would have been speaking at his funeral.

There were some bright spots. Tiner and Coates through their getting that book had probably saved Mrs. Dodge's life. Coleman and McBurney, the two NCIS liaisons had seen to that. Alan Mattoni: now there was a man AJ had seriously misjudged _–( I should find a way to bring him and Carolyn back to the office – they're a good team_.) Harriet Sims: she had been a real surprise. She may act a little silly from time to time, but she has a good head on her shoulders, keeps that office humming – (_I'll never forgive myself if Bud is killed over there...or any of them for that matter)_. Sturgis: now there was man who could go far…if he could just keep his head on straight….

He looked in the mirror in front of him and saw a haggard man in a dirty and sweat stained admiral's summer uniform staring back at him. He didn't like what he saw. He looked at the brown liquid as he swirled it around in his glass. Another swallow would help. (_What about Meredith?)_ "She wouldn't understand…." He said to himself.

"Most people wouldn't Admiral."

AJ looked up at the mirror and saw Clayton Webb standing beside him. He took another drink from his glass and then set it down. He stared at the mirror. "Special Agent Clayton Webb, what an unpleasant surprise. Come to volunteer more of my staff for some harebrained CIA stunt you and Deputy Director Kershaw have dreamed up?"

Clayton sat down as the bartender set a napkin in front of him as well as a bowl of mixed nuts and salty snacks. "AJ, I'm sorry for what happen-"

"Don't you ever call *me* AJ, do you understand?" The fury in the Admiral's voice stunned Clayton Webb into silence. "Fifteen of *my people* died today because of yet another screw up by your talented agency."

"Admiral I take full responsibility-"

"You bet you're your ass you do," AJ said coldly. "That kid you took out there is only 25 years old, now she may not live through the night. I have one of my best lawyers in ICU at Bethesda along with two other of my staff members and let's not forget four others in jeopardy in Mirbullah – not to mention one of Admiral Morris' judges. Do you really think one little 'sorry' will make everything better?"

"No Admiral," Webb sneered sarcastically, "I don't. Look, do you want to punch me in the nose, break my jaw? I know that always makes you feel better."

AJ chuckled humorlessly. "Don't tempt me, Mr. Webb." He turned and looked at the special assistant to the Undersecretary of State – or whatever the hell his latest title was. "Tell me Mr. Webb, was it worth it?"

"Well thanks to Petty Officers Coates and Tiner and Sergeant Givers' timely translation, we learned about and broke up an Al-Qaeda terrorist cell right here in the Washington, DC area-"

AJ grimaced and shook his head.

"But did you get your man?" AJ pressed, already knowing the answer.

Clay deflated at his revealing question. "No Admiral, we didn't."

The JAG snorted as he picked up his glass and took another drink. "Can't even do that right."

"Look Admiral," Clayton Webb moved closer to the former SEAL. "None of us knew this was going to happen."

The JAG spun to face him. "That's a damned lie and you know it, Webb." That silenced the man again.

AJ looked the CIA Agent up and down. He was wearing a newly cleaned suit. Did the man step into a nearby phone booth where he had an extra suit waiting – or maybe he kept a spare one in the trunk of his sports car?

The JAG decided at that moment he really didn't care. "Tell me something; do you ever tell the truth – ever? Do you lie to your mother or even better still, did you lie to Mac when you were with her?"

The Agent's eyes narrowed. "That's below the belt."

AJ smirked at his anger. "Really? I'm just getting warmed up *Mr. Webb*."

The other patrons at the bar seemed to sense it was a good time to leave. The bartender eyed his telephone, but decided for the moment he wouldn't make any calls.

"What do you want from me, Admiral? Blood?" Clayton Webb slammed his fist down on the bar. "Ever since my first run in with you, you've despised me-"

His indignant act did not impress the Admiral. "Because you lie about what you do with my people! Anytime you or the agency has some wild ass scheme, who is the first person you call? Why Rabb or MacKenzie, of course. And why is that Mr. Webb? Oh Yes, I remember now. It's because you're friends with the Commander. I mean, you were the one to help him find out about his father in Siberia and his half brother, Sergei. You helped him and then he owed you, am I getting warm?"

Clayton realized he had pushed too far. The others in the bar were now staring at the two men. "Admiral, please." He said quietly, hoping to calm the man down.

But AJ Chegwidden was on a roll. "Now what about Mac? Oh yeah, that's right; you're in love with her. I think I remember hearing from someone once that you considered her a 7.6 on the Richter scale."

They were making a scene. The CIA operative began to sweat. "Admiral, don't do this…."

"And then when you needed a wife for your little operation in the Chaco Boreal, who did you call? Not Ms. Gale, but good ol' dependable Mac, Marine extraordinaire."

That did it. Now the man had clearly lost it. Clayton had to snap him out of it. "AJ!"

The Admiral just looked at the panic-stricken agent and gave him a faint smile. "And you knew that would draw Rabb in and that suited you and Kershaw just fine. You both knew that Rabb and I were on shaky ground since Singer's death. And Kershaw was harping on you about the Angel Shark incident. There was a need for someone in the CIA besides Beth O'Neill and Alan Blaisdell who knew about combat aircraft, so it fit in your plans perfectly for me to fire Rabb. A whispered word from Kershaw to Sheffield and the deal was set, right? And then when he wasn't needed anymore you, Beth and Catherine whispered to me, Mac, Coates and Sheffield how Harmon Rabb, Junior belonged at JAG."

Clayton Webb sat silently next to him. The cats were out of the bag and prowling around the room. Several patrons deliberately became very interested in their drinks.

"So I take him back, and what, you need him back again because trouble is brewing in Iraq? Am I getting it, Special Agent Webb? Is there anything you'd like to add?"

Clayton Webb studied the JAG. Should he tell him about Mac's deal with him to get Harm out of the CIA and back to JAG Corps? No, that'd probably just lead to more violence.

"Sure," Clayton Webb motioned to the bartender. "Two more Wild Turkey on the rocks."

The bartender went away and brought back the two drinks.

AJ shook his head and picked up the drink without looking at the CIA Agent. "Mr. Webb, you are a piece of work."

"I'll take that as a compliment Admiral," he said taking a long drink from his glass.

The JAG watched as the CIA agent drained the glass and ordered another. "I'm friends with Harm. Sure there were benefits for me and the Agency in helping the Commander find his father and later his half-brother. We got a wealth of intelligence about rogue KGB and FSS Agents out of that incident."

He saw AJ's sarcastic grin. "But when I read the report about what happened in Siberia and how Harm was determined to help his half-brother come back to the states-"

AJ knew the rest. The Admiral chortled derisively. "And some with some gentle persuasion from me you were able to find him. You have a heart of *pure gold*, Mr. Webb."

Now it was Special Agent Clayton Webb's turn to snort. He shook his head ruefully. "Rabb had suffered enough. It was the least I could do."

"The least you could do-" AJ repeated mockingly.

But Clayton Webb wasn't listening. He wanted to get this off his chest. "And Mac? Yes, I did have a crush on her." He looked at his glass, the bourbon serving as a prism to view his tortured soul. "Admit it Admiral, Brumby was right; we all are a little bit in love with her."

That struck an angry chord in the former SEAL that he wished he could deny, but couldn't. His face became a mask of fury. "You'd better watch your mouth-"

The fury didn't faze him. Maybe because it didn't matter anymore. "Believe it or not Admiral, I've never really had very many friends," Clay said dully.

AJ's response was thick with sarcasm. "You're kidding."

The barb just bounced off Clay. "The Commander…Harm is just one of those folks you admire and want to emulate. And the Colonel? Well, she's just something…."

The Admiral couldn't argue with either comment.

"I knew there was something going on between those two, so I stood back…."

AJ shook his head. "How honorable of you."

Clay took another pull on his glass. Don't get me wrong. I would use them for operations-it was beneficial…for all of us."

"Beneficial?" AJ's eyebrows shot upward. "You sure do have a weird definition of the term…."

The CIA Agent ignored the navy man's goading commentary. "But you're right, when Paraguay came up, something happened. Maybe it was because she had told me things had become rocky between the two of them, maybe I just sensed the time was right. Or maybe it was because I knew I was being given my chance. Hell, I don't know anymore. I just knew I needed her."

AJ Chegwidden watched as the man ordered another drink and downed it with the same ferocity as the second.

He understood what was going through Clayton's mind about Mac. He'd been there himself.

Now it was Clayton Webb's turn to stare at the face in the mirror. "I forgot the cardinal rule; I guess my mother was right—I care too much."

AJ wasn't sure if this was another ploy or not. But he didn't like the way Clayton Webb was drinking. The Agent ordered another and began to down it.

"I think you've had enough."

Clayton stopped in mid-swallow. He set the glass down, keeping his eyes focused on the bar. "Last I checked, you aren't my father." He turned to face the JAG, a look of remorse lined his face. "Letting al-Harib die and letting that suicide squad get as close as they did to JAG Headquarters is something I'll never forget." He picked up his glass again. "But this will help dull the pain." He drained it and ordered another.

AJ's voice began to get an edge. "I said, I think you've had enough."

The agent's hollow laugh took the former SEAL by surprise. His words indicated that today may have cost Special Agent Webb more than anyone realized. "What are you going to do Admiral, order me not to drink? Knock the drink out of my hands? You're no better than I am." He looked away from the Admiral and continued to imbibe.

AJ stood up and walked toward the agent. "In case you haven't noticed Mr. Webb, I've stopped drinking. And you're going to as well."

Clayton Webb held the glass to his lips, then shook his head and set it down on the counter.

He turned to the older man, a sneer crossing his face. "Care to hit me Admiral?"

Normally the JAG would have complied with that request and knocked that smug self-assured smirk off the man's face. Despite his belief that something was not right, he still couldn't believe Agent Webb wasn't trying to pull another fast one. "So when did it get this bad?" AJ asked dryly.

"When I started caring about Sarah." That was the second time today he had called Colonel MacKenzie by her first name. "When Sadik was torturing me. All I could think of was 'he's going to kill Sarah next' and I was helpless to do anything about it. That's when I knew I loved her, but…."

AJ was beginning to understand. "But it came with a price, didn't it?" There was still a note of sarcasm in his voice, but it wasn't as strong as before.

Webb sensed a change in the Admiral's tone. He faced the former SEAL. "Throwing my friendship with Harm away, if that's what you mean. Sarah and I were protecting each other. I just wasn't as good at it as she was because my confidence was shattered. Once we got back here where everything was safe and normal, Mac and I started fighting. It was either her PTSD or my increasingly frequent disappearances on long missions, I'm not sure which started it."

"It came apart…." AJ said stoically.

His smile was full of mockery and self-hatred. "And you're looking at the reason why." He held up the glass to him. "I did the one thing that was sure to drive Mac away – at first she tried to help me, but it only made it worse. I knew I had to distance myself from her."

AJ's realization of the man's act hit him like a brick in the face. "You drove her away because you love her. You didn't want to harm her, only protect her, and because you had come between her and the Commander…."

It was really more complicated than that, but that was the gist of it. He nodded. "Yes, I couldn't protect her then and I can't protect her now. That is Harm's job. I pushed her to make the decision she made and I can live with that, but as long as she and the rest of them are in danger over there, I won't rest easy. You see AJ, I've violated the cardinal rule – caring about non-agency related personnel. If it were anyone else, I'd just write them off as a lost asset—but not my friends…and especially not Sarah."

The Admiral watched the man carefully, as if seeing him for the first time. "But I'm also wrestling with something else. You heard me today. You've seen me tonight."

"Son, there are programs that can help," AJ Chegwidden could see that the agent was in trouble. The kind that needed intervention. "Mac's been through this and Rabb certainly wouldn't fault you."

Clayton Webb held up his glass in mock salute. "Ah, father figure Admiral Albert Jethro Chegwidden; I was wondering when you would show up. Sure, just send me to detox at Bethesda. There Mac can hold my hand and Harm can tell me how he's rooting for me. And you can be there too, AJ, threatening to beat me up if I don't get better. What a family we'll be…."

AJ was unsure what to say—given the man's current condition and his obvious state of mind, maybe letting him vent was best.

Clay put down his half-finished drink on the bar and shook his head. "AJ…Admiral… Admiral, I'm tired. Tired of fighting the Al-Qaeda, tired of arguing with Mac, butting heads with Harm, being called a liar, not having the support of my agency peers.

I just want to rest. So, that's what I'm going to do. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to catch a cab. Mac hid the keys to my car before she left, so I'm reduced to taking public transportation."

He threw the JAG a sloppy salute. "Have a good evening, sir."

The JAG watched as Special Agent Webb walked a little unsteadily toward the front door of Benzinger's. There were a thousand arguments he could have used, but right now every one of them seemed shallow and pointless. He too, was feeling tired. Old beyond his years. Maybe it was time to get out. He had to get his lawyers and Colonel Blakely back in one piece first.

"Yeah, get them back first and then deal with that question." He looked back toward the entrance (_and maybe get another life back on track as well_….)

[part three]

He turned back to bar and thought about what Clayton had danced around. The Commander had served the CIA well, but Webb knew that Mac had tried without success to contact him for the rest of May on into June.

He knew this because Mac had tried to talk to him about Harmon Rabb. AJ couldn't let her know about the deal between Sheffield and Kershaw or what part he unwillingly played – so he gruffly rebuffed hers, Coates' and the Roberts' attempts to find out more about what the aviator/lawyer was doing.

Publicly, Rabb had been severed from military service – that was that - end of story.

Privately, he knew that once Harm had 'paid in full' for the help of the CIA Services he had used, Kershaw would kick him loose. Well as loose as any person is kicked from the CIA. Harm, of course, could be recalled if needed.

With AJ stiff-arming his staff and his concentration on winning the affections of Meredith Cavanaugh, JAG Ops became a ticking time bomb. It didn't help that AJ increasingly felt like he was walking a tightrope following the Kabir Atef adventure, Lindsey's report, Manetti's troubleshooting tour, and the death of Lieutenant Singer. All the staff walked around on eggshells. Mac, without her usual confidant and anchor in OJAG, sought comfort with Clayton Webb.

Coates being a brasher young turk, took to pushing the disrespect envelope as much as she could. AJ ignored most of what she did, it was really minor, however those times she upped the ante, he came down on her, hard. Harriet resorted to stiff formality, and when she thought the Admiral wasn't looking, mean looks. Even Tiner became more distant and sought out his advice less. To say JAG was more like an armed camp than a smooth running office was not too far from the truth.

Up to this point what had happened in Paraguayan Chaco Boreal was the stuff of juicy scuttlebutt and dry official reports. AJ had thrown down a gauntlet at Commander Rabb the day he left and he had expected to hear good news when he got back.

But the day Rabb and MacKenzie walked back into his office, nothing had changed. It made it that much easier to perpetuate this charade.

Then came the day when the Colonel could stand what was going on no longer.

AJ was sitting at his desk looking through legal briefs when his intercom buzzed.

"What is it Tiner?"

"Colonel MacKenzie to see you, sir,"

"Send her in."

He remembered Mac coming in and standing rigidly at attention waiting for him to acknowledge her. He had noticed her hair had a strewn look to it and there were dark circles showing through her carefully applied make up.

"At ease Colonel,"

She relaxed into parade rest.

He looked at her stolid face through his reading glasses. "You can take a seat Mac,"

"I prefer to remain standing sir," she was stiff and formal.

AJ looked up at her again. "All right Colonel…now, what do you need?"

She got right to the point – unusual for her. "Sir, you saw the ZNN newsfeed…."

AJ knew what she was referring to. He had silently cursed when he saw ZNN cutting Harm's career short, but he couldn't let her know that. That would open the door to too many questions.

"I did Colonel; that was his choice."

She shook her head. "ZNN was tipped off that something big was going to happen on the Seahawk."

"Well that's the breaks Colonel, as I said, he made his choice and I wish him the best of luck…."

"He belongs at JAG."

He remembered how shocked he was at her saying that.

"What did you say?"

She wasn't backing down. "Sir Harmon Rabb belongs at JAG…with us, sir."

He studied her for a moment. She had pulled some gutsy moves in the past, but this by far was her gutsiest. Either she had lost her mind or something else had come into play – something that happened in the South American jungle. He decided to test her.

"And with you…right, Colonel?"

Mac bit her lower lip and looked down at her feet. "Yes, sir…and with me."

AJ remembered sitting back in his chair. Bingo! "Well I'll be damned…."

"Sir?"

"Colonel, what is Rabb doing now that he no longer flies for the Agency's Air Corps?"

"Webb told me he's taken a temporary job flying crop dusters, sir,"

"Good; it suits him Colonel. It will allow his independent nature the freedom it needs…."

Her eyes had flared in surprise at his comment. "Letting him fly crop dusters?" He was intentionally goading her. He wanted to see just how 'committed' she was to her stance. Could she take the heat?

He smiled at her. He knew that would stoke her resolve. She hated being made fun of. "If that what he wants to do, Colonel…."

"No sir! That is not acceptable!" She had almost barked.

"Excuse me?" he had not expected an angry defiant response. She had been hanging around Rabb and Lieutenant Sims too long.

"Sir, he belongs here," she was almost pleading now. AJ wasn't ready for this sudden shift in her emotions. Maybe it was time for her to see a therapist.

He practically threw up his hands in frustration at her. "Colonel, he's the one who left *us* and I might add, he did it to find *you*!"

Instead of defiance or anger, she looked as if she was ready to collapse. "Yes sir, I know…."

Despite his concern for her, he just didn't have time right now for any other emotional mood swings.

"Colonel, if you're done, I need to get back to work-"

"Please Admiral, the Commander…Harm…needs JAG…and we need him." The look in her expressive eyes melted his anger and indignation.

Whether Sheffield and Kershaw liked it or not, it was time for this charade to end. He'd probably end up sinking his career, but so what. Even if he and Rabb weren't on the best of terms right now, the Commander had put his neck on the line for him. Now it was time to repay the favor.

"Dammit. Where is he?"

He saw of glimmer of hope light his Marine JAG's eyes. "Flying out of Blacksburg airport for Grace Aviation, he just started today, sir."

What really floored him was what happened when he flipped the intercom switch "Tiner…."

"I'll have your Escalade pulled up in front for you in a few minutes, sir,"

"Tiner, were you listening in our conversation?"

"No, sir, Admiral," He'd bet that Tiner had practiced saying that in front of a mirror.

His staff was getting more forthright by the day. When he got everything settled, he was going to long talk with all of them.

"Fine. Get it done."

"Aye, aye, sir." He swore he could hear Tiner smiling.

He saw out of the corner of his eyes that Mac had the beginnings of a smile until he fixed her with a hard glare.

"Colonel, the next time you pull a stunt like this, I'm bringing you up on charges of insubordination."

Despite his growl, she knew deep down she had won back his respect. "Understood, sir," she said in her best Marine voice. She was still a little shaky, but at least now she looked like she had a handle on herself now.

"Dismissed."

That glow was back in her eyes that had faded in the last few months. "Aye, aye, sir."

As she did her about face and left the room, AJ thought about how Sarah MacKenzie had always given him the inspiration to salvage the good from a bad situation. Whether it was standing up to those charges of hitting that kid or facing Lindsey's bogus report head-on.

(Thanks Sarah)

The sun had begun its long slow climb into the Middle Eastern sky when Sarah MacKenzie pulled into the checkpoint at Camp Chesty Puller. After being cleared by the guards, she drove back over to the Batchelor Officer Quarters' area and tiredly climbed out of the truck. Fortunately she had cried out all her tears and her face was completely dry, maybe though just a little bit puffy.

"Rough night, Mac?"

She turned and saw Sturgis Turner standing on the steps to his quarters looking questioningly at her.

(Just great; after last night I have to face this,) she thought dejectedly.

"Mac…." he began.

She hoped she could forestall a long and involved discussion. "Sturgis, look; I'm sorry about the things I said to you last night…."

But true to his religious upbringing, the Bubblehead only gave her a gentle smile. "Forget it Mac, we all said some things last night in the heat of the moment…."

"And now?" she ventured hopefully.

"It's in the past Colonel, heat of the moment," he reassured her.

She couldn't resist. "What about Bud?"

The lady Marine could tell that question had irked him, but only momentarily.

"We were all under a lot of strain last night, Colonel." He said as a way of explanation.

"So, you're going to forgive him," she continued pressing. Why, she didn't know. Maybe it had to do with the fact she had known Bud longer than him. And she did feel somewhat protective of him.

"Counselor, you're badgering the witness," he gently warned her. She sighed and nodded her agreement with that statement.

"I'll forgive him for last night, Mac," he allowed.

"But not for what happened between you and him during the board of inquiry…."

Now it was the Bubblehead's turn to sigh. "Colonel, as I told the Lieutenant, I need time to work this out. Please allow me the time and space to do so."

"Okay Sturgis," she relented, and then shifted the subject. "Look, I'm beat. I'm going to hit the rack for a few hours before I start getting ready for the trial tomorrow morning…."

Sturgis folded his arms across his broad chest. "If there is a trial tomorrow morning," he said grimly, "So where were you?"

"Couldn't sleep; went back to the crime scene again to see if we missed anything," she said yawning.

"Did you find anything?" he probed gently.

She gave him a sleepy smile. "If I had, I would have notified you," she said, as she began to walk away from him.

"Where's Harm?" he asked point-blank.

Inwardly she winced. (He's out tracking down the one-armed man who will save our clients and solve our case) she thought glibly- a little too glibly. (Boy MacKenzie, do you need sleep. Good thing you didn't say *that* out loud.)

"He's out talking with Officer al-Surah," she said in a half lie.

"Make sure he informs me of any new evidence he's found Mac," he reminded her, "You know what I'll be forced to do if he doesn't…."

He let the threat hang in the air.

The Marine Lieutenant Colonel turned back to the JAG naval Commander. "I'll be sure to tell him Sturgis…when he gets back, good night."

And with that verbal flourish, Mac turned back and headed for her building, leaving the man to watch her walk away. She opened the door to her quarters and went inside. Not once did she look back at the Bubblehead's penetrating stare.

Good morning from KVAM radio, the voice of agriculture. It's partly cloudy outside right now, current temperature 72 degrees. And now for the agricultural forecast. Hot weather will continue today with nearly full sunshine, and a high drying potential. Relatively low humidity will continue until a fast moving storm system promises to bring rain over the weekend….

Leroy Jethro Gibbs took a sip from his coffee cup and continued sanding the third rib on this sailing yacht's hull. He was making slow and precise strokes. As he did, he thought about the dead and wounded at JAG Headquarters (if only we had gotten there more quickly….) In his mind he sorted through all the information that he and Tony DiNozzo had gathered on the dead terrorist leader. It was not much.

And now the farm report for Prince William County; market at a glance – steers, choice 2-3 87.20 down one dollar; heifers 85.30 unchanged; cows, breakers 54.00 even unchanged; cows, bonners 52.50 down 1.25; bulls yg-1 62.00 down 2.00; hogs 49-54% lean 49.20 up 2.00; lambs, choice/prime 80-110 pounds 112.00 up 3.00; grass hay, 2 loads 66.00-120.00….

Though the Falls Church cell had been under surveillance for weeks, little had happened until yesterday. They couldn't even trace back how the terrorists had acquired the layout plans for Quantico Marine Corps Base (MCB).

Gibbs wanted to hit something. Hard.

He knew though deep down all that would do is possibly break his hand or at least a couple of fingers and it wouldn't tell him any more about al-Harib.

…hog auction for Monday, July 7, 2003 receipts 175, last week 187….

As the farm report moved into a detailed report on hog prices, he heard a familiar voice float down the stairs.

"Don't you ever get tired to listening to that farm report stuff…?"

Gibbs smiled at the verbal jab.

"It relaxes me while I work," Gibbs replied evenly as he continued his steady even strokes on the sailboat's rib.

He looked up at the FBI Agent coming down his basement stairwell. "What do you want, Tobias?"

Tobias C. Fornell walked over and leaned his back against Gibbs' workbench. "What? No 'good morning Tobias, how are you?'"

Gibbs stopped sanding the rib and stared blankly at the FBI Agent in Charge. "Good morning, now what do your want, Tobias?"

Fornell gave him a well worn smile. "We're really working in the dark on this one Jethro," he said stealing a sip from the flask he had pulled from his coat pocket.

"You knew more about al-Harib than we did Tobias," Gibbs said in that calm rational voice of his as started sanding again. "Your people had him under surveillance."

"And we tipped your people off that they were in the planning stages of an assault against a military installation," Fornell reminded him.

Gibbs stopped sanding again and pierced the FBI Agent with a sharp look. "Do I seem ungrateful to you, Tobias?"

"You haven't shared what you know, Jethro," shot back the FBI man with equal venom. He then took another sip from his flask.

"We know they were Al-Qaeda and we know, thanks to the Judge Advocate General, that their original target was the Quantico motor pool."

"That's not what I mean Jethro," he shot back, "who were these clowns, and why did they switch targets at the last moment…and, more importantly, who sent them on this one way mission?"

"I don't know yet Tobias," The NCIS Agent said and then drained his coffee cup of the last of his Jack Daniels' whiskey, "When I find out, I'll let you know."

Mac tossed and turned in her sleep. It didn't help that she and Harm had had another emotional blow-up related to this case. Now other demons were unleashed by this anxiety that began to haunt her sleep.

The image of Deputy Director of Naval Intelligence, Rear Admiral Richard LaPorte, swam into her view.

He waved an accusing finger at her like he did in the Admiral's office that she inadvertently let Bud see Clayton Webb's report on Alison LaPorte's Bedouin tribe….

…_you can kiss your green marine ass goodbye Colonel…._

The image shifted, as it often does in dreams. Now Admiral Chegwidden was standing nose to nose LaPorte.

_What she did was deliberate and malicious!_

_It was sloppy and stupid!_

The JAG was trying to calm the DDNI, but Mac could see that AJ's heart wasn't in his arguments. He had lost faith in her too.

"C'mon Dick," he offered lamely, "It was a mistake-"

You're damn right it was! He bellowed at AJ, _"She's an incompetent officer!"_

The JAG bowed his head under LaPorte's verbal barrage, looking away from Mac as well. Mac could see shame and guilt on the Admiral's face. The look tore at Mac's heart.

"AJ," she called out uncharacteristically to him. Then she turned to the DDNI. "Admiral LaPorte, I didn't mean for this to happen-"

LaPorte was livid now. The veins were standing out on his neck; his face was turning purple with rage.

_An incompetent officer!_

_AN INCOMPETENT OFFICER!_

He looked as if he were about to strike her. She felt weak, helpless and ashamed. The JAG sat in one of his plush office chairs, his head in his hands obscuring his face—was he…crying?

As Admiral LaPorte was about to hit her, a dark figure appeared in the doorway to the JAG's office. She stole up behind LaPorte and swiftly strangled him, leaving his lifeless body sprawled on the carpet. Mac was horrified.

Smiling malevolently, the figure took Sarah by the hand and pulled her into a deserted Iraqi farm field.

Mac watched as armored vehicles from a Marine unit approached the field. The JAG attorney noticed they were now dressed in Marine Recon uniforms. The dark figure pointed to the approaching Marine armor.

_Come with me, Cher! Together we'll show them who's incompetent!_

The dark figure pointed a man-portable surface to air missile at the dark and threatening sky while hooded figures popped up all around them, aiming RPGs at the approaching Marine M-1 tanks.

A peal of thunder could be heard in the distance followed by maniacal laughter.

Mac could barely make out the two approaching F-14 fighters.

The thunder continued and Mac screamed.

She woke breathless, bathed in a sheen of sweat, still hearing in her mind the laughter and the thunder. She finally knew who the figure was.

Harm was right.

Darcy was involved, and if her vision was right, she intended to kill Harm.

The lady JAG was about to get out of bed when there was a knock at her door. That had to be Sturgis. Bud was still confined to quarters and Flyboy was still out chasing bad guys in the desert. She wiped the perspiration away from her face as she sat up in bed.

"Go away Sturgis…I'm trying to get some rest…" she said tiredly. Didn't that Bubblehead ever relax?

"It's me Mac," Harm's contrite voice penetrated through the closed door, "Can I come in?"

Sarah MacKenzie quickly pushed away her covers, got up, and ran to the door. She jerked it open and flew into Flyboy's surprised arms.

"Harm!" she said as she hugged him, "What are you doing here?"

"Mac!" Harm warned in a strangled voice.

Not that he didn't want to do this with her, and had imagined it happening various ways. But this was reality…it was morning and people could see them.

He ushered her inside and closed the door.

"Mac? What's wrong?" The aviator/lawyer said with growing concern and alarm, "What's going on?"

"Harm," she said breathlessly still holding onto him and quivering, "You were right about Darcy. She is involved—deeply involved." Finishing her statement, she began to hold onto him tighter.

Harm tried to process what was going on – this was not like Mac at all; but her closeness, her warmth, and the hug she was giving him was rapidly undoing his defenses.

It didn't help that she'd stripped to a t-shirt and panties when she went to sleep.

Harmon Rabb felt his emotional dam beginning to crack. He tried explaining why he was back to take his mind off her lithe body wrapped around his frame.

"Uh, the trip was a bust, Mac. Khalil's friend had, um, left the village," he hoarsely answered her earlier question.

He felt her shivering. What had happened in here? He looked down at her. His first concern was making her feel safe.

"It's okay, Marine, I've got you," he said reassuringly, though his voice was becoming more strained by the second.

"How…um, how did you know about Darcy?" For a moment he wondered if that witch had paid Mac a visit.

She lifted her frightened brown eyes to meet his. Harm could see now she had been sweating profusely. The scared look on her face tore at his soul.

"I-I saw her…Harm, she's the one…that has…you shot down," she said hesitantly. She waited to see if he would laugh at her or dismiss this latest vision.

Despite his widened eyes, he gave her a reassuring hug. "No one is going to shoot me down, Marine," he croaked roughly as he cupped her face, "I promise."

Mac now understood what was bothering Harm. Her own heart was now suddenly beating wildly, but not from fear.

"Don't make a promise you can't keep Flyboy," she found herself saying as she stared up into his gorgeous aqua blue eyes.

"Haven't yet," he returned huskily as his mouth descended onto hers. He didn't know why he was doing it, it just felt right.

Mac was quivering now, but for a whole other reason altogether.

She stood on her tiptoes and resumed hugging the tall naval commander.

Harm deepened his kiss, pulling her even closer.

Mac felt his pull and for a brief moment considered backing away from him, but his scent, the feel of his strong arms was intoxicating her.

Both JAG's hands began roaming up and down each others' bodies, searching for exposed skin. Their kissing became more feverous. Tongues inserted into this interplay brought smiles to both their faces. As they sought more, their actions became even more desperate and passionate, as if they had been lost from each other for a thousand years.

"Too many damn clothes…." he murmured against her mouth,

"I can help with that," she purred into his ear and flicked her tongue against it.

She slowly pulled away from him, smiling wickedly. At the same time, she roughly grabbed his 'go to hell' buckle. They were caught up in the flames of passion that were now consuming them.

"Oh God Mac," he groaned and staggered with her, stumbling over toward her bed. "I…I want you…right now…."

"Make love to me Harmon Rabb Junior," she whispered urgently to him as she took his hands in hers and led him toward the already askew covers.

His sorely neglected libido was severely beating up his chivalry, but he had to stay strong for her. "I don't want a morning quickie Mac; I want you forever."

She had dreamed of hearing this since the first day she decided Flyboy was the one. She gave him a saucy smile as she laid back on the bed. "I don't want quickies either Harm, I want you, forever." She urged him closer.

"The case," he offered as a reality check as he lowered himself onto the bed taking her into his arms.

"We're on hold for at least 24 hours," she whispered rationally, if that was possible at time like this, "I don't think they'll miss us for a couple of hours…." She began picking at the buttons of his shirt.

"Our careers," he warned as she began to unbutton his shirt. That had always been the 500 pound gorilla in the room with them whenever they started to have romantic thoughts. But for some reason right now, that monkey had left the room.

"I know we can do this, Flyboy," she said coyly as she pushed his shirt off his broad shoulders. She looked deep into his eyes and saw her concerned lover and understood his hesitancy. It wasn't that he didn't want her, or that he was shy – it was that he wanted this to be mutual and nothing to stand in their way.

She stopped pushing on the shirt and put her hand under his chin. "We told each other how we felt in Paraguay, Harm." She looked deeply into the eyes of the man she loved, "Our careers will survive."

Harm's face broke into his that smile that made her heart sing as he moved closer to her.

She tugged again at his belt as he pulled her t-shirt off.

Clothes flew everywhere, coming off at a ferocious pace. The two long denied lovers shared satisfied smiles as they began to explore each other. Arms and legs became entangled as the pace of their exploration hastened. The last thing Harmon Rabb remembered before his emotional dam completely gave way and he became lost in the wall of passion that rolled over him was that he finally had the woman of his dreams.

-TBC…


	41. Chapter 40

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 40

Mac heard an incessant chirping. (Damned insects,) she thought groggily.

A thought floated through her sleep dulled mind. Phone. Her cell phone!

Mac's eyes flicked open and frantically scanned the gloom of her quarters. The shades had been drawn earlier to keep the sun out.

She felt a large warm hand gently grab her hip. Her naked hip!

Mac froze. (Oh my God! Harm! What did we do?) She tried to figure out what time it was.

Her cell phone chirped again. With a speed born of panic, she grappled for her cell phone and whipped it open. "MacKenzie," she said in a surprisingly normal voice.

"Mac…." The voice was hoarse and rough.

"Who is this?" The Marine was in no mood for games right now.

"It's Alan…Alan Mattoni."

"Alan?" she said quizzically into her phone, "What's wrong?"

"I need…I need your help Mac," he moaned sounding as if he had given up all hope. "I need a drink so bad right now…."

"I'm here Alan," Fully awake now, she clambered from the bed and pulled the olive drab blanket around her as she stood up.

"What's wrong?" she asked cupping the phone closer to her.

His words stumbled out. "The terrorist attack…Carolyn was injured…my fault…."

She immediately understood what he was saying. Images of Dalton lying bleeding, dying in her arms in that alley flashed through her mind.

"I need a drink…Mac, just one…."

"No Alan," she said forcefully, panic rising in her throat.

She and Alan Mattoni had been sober for five years, four months and nine days. "Where are you?" She looked around to make sure Harm was still asleep. He was. Thank God she didn't have to deal with him as well at this moment.

Alan Mattoni sighed listlessly in response to her question. "At home, in the den…."

(Thank God.) Mac breathed a sigh of relief. At least he hadn't driven to a bar.

"Where's Jackie?"

He sighed again heavily. "She's asleep…I just got in…."

"Alan is there any alcohol in your den?" She had to ask, and hoped 'no' would be his answer.

"No. There's none in the house. But I need-"

"Listen to me Alan," she said putting Marine steel into her words. "Having a drink won't make the situation better. It won't change what happened,"

"I know that Mac." She could tell he was irritated by her comments. Just as quickly, his voice sagged back into abject moroseness. "But Carolyn-"

"—would not want you to take a drink either, Alan. Don't do it."

"You weren't there Mac," he said suddenly sounding harsh and accusatory. "You didn't see the blood, the bodies—

Panic was creeping back into the Marine Lieutenant Colonel; she was losing him. What was worse, his rambling let her imagine the worst about what had happened at JAG Headquarters.

She willed herself to calm down before speaking again. "Listen to me Alan. We made a pact. No drinking—ever. No matter what happens. I promised you and you promised me. Right?"

There was a long pregnant pause on the other end. "Right, Mac. No drinking. Ever."

"Good." She relaxed her hold on her phone. She hadn't realized up to this point how hard she had been gripping it.

"Today was so tough, Mac."

"I know, Alan," she said quietly, "For me too."

"Thanks, Mac," he said softly, sounding more at peace.

She felt a smile come to her face. "You're welcome, Alan." She hoped she had helped and that he'd be able to cope with coming days. It would not be easy. Tonight was just the first hurdle.

As he cut the connection, Mac turned around and saw Harmon Rabb in nothing but his boxers, standing there, watching her.

Mac's brain tried to focus on her question. "How long…"

"…have I been listening?" he finished gently for her, "Since you got up."

He motioned to the phone. "Is he…"

"…all right?" she in turn finished for him as she put her phone down. "He will be, now."

"How long has Alan been on the wagon?"

"Exactly five years, four months and nine days." Harm nodded. He immediately recognized that Alan had been sober exactly as long as Mac had.

"Mac?" His voice filled with concern as he moved closer to her. Was she tempted to drink too? Is that why they talked for so long? Could their lovemaking have pushed her toward it?

"It's okay, Harm," she looked down and then back at him. His beautiful aqua blues were boring into her again. She knew what he was thinking. (Was she regretting doing this?) She bit her lower lip and shook her head. "So what do we do now?"

It was obvious that she was really wishing this hadn't happened at this moment in time. It only made their situation a lot more complicated. Dammit, why was their timing always so lousy?

Rather than being crushed by her conflicted feelings, Harm took her hand and pressed her fingers to his lips. She looked up at him, tears pooling in her eyes.

"We'll take it one day at a time, Marine," he said gently, moving closer to her. Mac bit her lower lip and nodded. Somehow, the way he said 'Marine' made her feel more in love with him than any amount of other endearments would have.

She was so glad that Harm understood her feelings rather than backing away as he had done in the past.

For his part the aviator/lawyer understood that running away, by either of them, would not solve anything. They had to face this together. They were committed to each other now.

They embraced tenderly and neither one said a word as they just held each other for several moments. Outside the hustle and bustle of the MEU was well underway.

Harm's cell phone chittered.

Slowly they broke their embrace and the Navy JAG attorney fished his cell phone out of his pants draped over the back of the chair next to the bed.

"This is Commander Rabb," he answered flipping open his phone.

"Sorry to call you this late, Rabb," it was the Admiral.

"Ah, it's late morning here, sir," Harm gently offered to his CO.

Instead of a harsh rebuke or a gruff response, the Admiral just sighed heavily. "So it is,"

That soft response immediately made Harm concerned. "Sir, is everything all right?"

"We stopped the terrorists if that's what you mean, thanks to you and Mac," AJ said evenly.

Harm turned and mouthed 'Admiral Chegwidden' to his nearly naked partner. Mac moved over to her side of the bed and scrambled for her discarded panties and shirt.

"Uh, thank you, sir," Harm returned, "I'm just glad you're all right, Admiral,"

"I'm not 'all right' Commander," the JAG growing slightly annoyed, "I said 'we stopped the terrorists' but it didn't happen without cost."

Harm gulped involuntarily. He hadn't meant to imply that everything was okay. He had seen the ZNN reports. "I-I'm sorry, Admiral," Harm gripped his phone a little tighter. Mac, now partially dressed, moved closer to the phone. "How bad was it, sir?" he said as his voice tightened.

Mac's eyes widened with shock at Harm's ominous question and the anguished look on his face.

AJ's voice sounded tired and strained. Something Harm had rarely heard.

"They tried to kill Petty Officers Coates and Tiner in an ambush on Stovall. Luckily Tiner had taken that escape and evasion driving course. They were damned lucky, but one of the security personnel I'd sent with them died in the gun battle at the JAG Ops front gate."

Harm's mind was reeling. A gun battle at the front gate? The former Top Gun's mind was having trouble processing what the JAG was telling him. "A-Admiral, I-I don't know what to say…."

AJ's voice lapsed into a monotone report of what had happened.

"We lost several people in the security company…and several of the staff in the bullpen…."

Harm gave Mac an alarmed look, "Who sir? Who did we lose from the bullpen?"

Another labored sigh. "…Seaman Burns, Petty Officer Stone, Sergeant Fugett, Corporal Johnstone, Petty Officer James, Seaman Zweski, Lieutenant Brooks, Ensign Ralston, Staff Sergeant Evert, Seaman Gelder, and Petty Officer Felders. We also lost Captain Jimenez, Lieutenant Caulfield, Gunnery Sergeant Brewster, and Corporal Burkett in the security company."

Harm closed his eyes and thanked God that Coates, Tiner, and Harriet were not among the dead. At the same time he felt guilt for feeling that way. He had spoken to or had known each and every one of those killed.

"How sir?" he was finally able to get out. Mac was looking sick to her stomach.

Despite his truncated question, AJ knew who he was talking about; the people he worked with in the bullpen. "Stray rounds hit JAG Ops when the attack began," He added almost as an afterthought, "They hit the security company as they responded to the attack."

He had to ask before Mac took the phone away from him. "Sir, how is Lieutenant Sims? Is she injured?"

"No Commander, the Lieutenant is just fine…." Harm mouthed to Mac 'Harriet's fine'. Mac closed her eyes and nodded, momentary relief flooding her face.

The aviator/lawyer hated the next question he had to ask. "What about Petty Officer Coates, sir?"

"She was seriously wounded Commander," AJ said gently, "Along with Petty Officer Tiner. Tiner's in ICU, Coates is in serious but stable condition…."

"How seriously was she wounded, sir?" Harm felt his voice tightening again as he saw Jen Coates' fresh face as she handed him his morning mail.

"They were both extremely lucky son," the JAG continued almost as if on automatic and not really listening to Harm's specific question. Maybe it made him feel better to just talk.

"Coates took a round in her left leg and right arm. Tiner was grazed along the temple and took a bullet to his right thigh. The bullet nicked an artery. Both have facial lacerations, but the cuts look worse than they really are."

Harm, though he hadn't asked, wanted to know more about Tiner. However if the Admiral had known he probably would have told him. He looked again at Mac 'Coates and Tiner were wounded' he mouthed.

"Ask him about Carolyn Imes," Mac prodded urgently.

Harm watched his partner with concern as he asked the question. "Sir, what about Commander Imes?"

"Imes suffered a really bad concussion, son," AJ voice became uncharacteristically gentle again, "She and Commander Mattoni were hit by stray bullets that entered their courtroom. Imes is also in the ICU at Bethesda. No word on when she'll get out of there. Mattoni was only scratched. They treated and released him this evening."

'Imes is in the ICU at Bethesda'. Mac looked shattered.

Now she understood why Alan had been so distraught.

Seeing that look on her face made the tall Naval Commander reach out and pull the Marine attorney close.

"Will she be all right, sir?" he asked.

"The next 24 hours will tell, son," Harm closed his eyes.

"Understood, sir," he said, his voice thick with unshed tears.

Harm reached down deep and fought to get control over his anguish. Now was not the time.

"Commander, is the Colonel there with you?"

Harm looked down at Mac with startled eyes. "Uh, yes sir." 'He wants to speak with you'.

Mac wiped away the tears that had been pooling at the corners of her eyes and trickling down her face. Harm automatically reached for her face with his other hand and lovingly brushed at the tear trails. Mac's face followed the movements of his thumb as he wiped at her tears.

"She's right here, sir," Harm tried to steady his voice as started to hand Mac the phone.

Some of the old gruffness returned to the former SEAL's voice. "I thought she might be."

Harm looked at the phone, stunned. "Uh, yes sir," he stammered, "here she is…."

Mac took the phone from his hands, curious as to why Harm's expression kept shifting, but more concerned about what their CO might have to say to her. She braced for the worst regarding their friends and co-workers.

"Yes sir?"

"Mac, I really don't know how to say this, so I'll just say it…," (Here it comes)

Mac closed her eyes. She was a Marine. (Get a grip MacKenzie, this is not the time for an emotional breakdown….)

"…thanks for letting me know about your vision. You saved a lot of lives today, Colonel."

"Sir?"

She could hear his grimace from across the Atlantic. "Don't make me repeat that Colonel, it was hard enough the first time."

Now it was Mac's turn to ride the emotional rollercoaster Harm had been experiencing "But sir," Her voice was full of regret and sadness, "people were still killed and

injured-"

AJ understood Mac's confusion. He had to make it clear to her what she had done for them by telling him about that vision of hers.

"Colonel, it would have been a lot worse if it weren't for your vision or whatever you call it. Either way, you kept our casualties to a minimum. I may have scoffed once before but I'm truly grateful Colonel, for that ability of yours."

She didn't know how to tell AJ that it wasn't her that had the vision. How could she tell him it was Harm that had the premonition? More importantly, would the Admiral ever believe that he'd had one?

Mac didn't want to take any bets on that one.

"Thank you sir," she said evasively. Mac quickly shifted verbal gears before the JAG could zero in on her ambivalence toward his compliment. "Admiral, do you have any idea who this group was that attacked JAG Headquarters?"

Mac could hear AJ's sarcastic smile. "A terrorist cell right here in Falls Church. Webb knew who they were. And they have ties to Samir al-Sahood, Colonel."

Mac felt the hair on the nape of her neck prickle. Samir was the Al-Qaeda operative the 36th MEU had been hunting when Lieutenant Dodge had been killed.

The Admiral's voice momentarily softened. "Mac, Webb also told me there is a traitor in the 36th Force Recon unit and that you, Harm, Bud and Sturgis are in grave danger as long as al-Sahood is still out there."

Harm saw the unsettled look on his partner's face. He moved closer to her. 'What?'

Mac turned to face him. 'Traitor in the 36th Force Recon' she mouthed. "Who's the turncoat sir?" Mac's jaw grew taut.

His answer added to her frustration. "We don't know Mac…but it's someone in the officer ranks…."

Mac decided a shaky gamble was better than no lead at all. "Admiral, Harm and I suspect Lieutenant Colonel Darcy Livingston and Captain Jac Lewis may know more than they are telling…."

Harm's eyebrows climbed into his hairline 'Are you insane?" he whispered angrily to her. She gave him a harsh glare in return.

AJ paused on the other end. When he spoke again, he was blunt.

"Are they involved in Lieutenant Dodge's murder, Colonel?"

Sometimes honesty is the best policy. "Unknown at this point, sir."

"Find out, Mac," he ordered brusquely, "and put the Commander back on the line."

"Aye, sir."

Harm took back the phone back from her. "Yes sir?"

"Commander, I don't want any more delays in this trial. Will you be ready to start first thing Thursday morning?"

Harm looked over at his Marine partner. "Yes sir, we will."

"Then make it happen, Commander,"

Harm nodded grimly. "Aye, aye, sir."

"And Commander, when you're finished, start investigating that Force Recon unit. Mac says you both suspect that Colonel Livingston and Captain Lewis may know more than they have told you so far. I suspect that both of you aren't telling me all that you know."

Harm considered his options with regards to that observation.

"Before you say anything, Commander, I don't want to know anymore. What I want is for all of you to nail the bastards who trashed my command and murdered my people. Chegwidden's voice was icy calm. "Is that understood, Commander?"

Harm nodded. "Understood, sir."

"You, MacKenzie, Turner and Roberts turn over every rock in that Force Recon unit. Check every worm that crawls out. Don't let anyone or anything get in your way. That includes Colonel Briggs and Brigadier General Thornton."

"Aye, aye, sir."

"And Commander…Harm…for God's sake whatever you do…watch each other's sixes…I don't…." AJ's voice faltered and he cut the connection, leaving Harm staring at the phone. The Admiral had only called Harm by his first name a handful of times. The JAG was clearly shaken by this incident and worried about his people. Harm felt another lump forming in his throat. At the same time he felt a dark anger building in him.

1220 Local

Clayton Webb's Residence

Alexandria, Virginia

Clayton Webb successfully opened the door to his condominium on his third attempt. He stumbled into the dark room, banging his shin on an inconveniently placed coffee table.

Cussing and rubbing his leg, Clay stumbled over the loveseat he and Mac had just shared a few weeks ago. That caused another string of slurred expletives to burst forth from the sloshed Special Agent. He felt his way through the pitch-black apartment towards his bathroom.

The snap of the bathroom switch bathed the room in a stark florescent hue that overflowed into the rest of the apartment. The slam of commode lid against the water tank basin was followed by a man praying before the great porcelain god and offering a gift to appease it.

Clayton Webb hung onto the bowl as if it were a life preserver. Slowly he pulled his head away. Uncoordinated hands clumsily reached for a nearby hand cloth. Unceremoniously wiping his mouth, the spook got to his feet and shuffled back into the dark.

He reached over with his right hand and fumbled for the light switch for his floor lamp. The apartment that had once been full of the sweet nothings of two lovers and Sarah MacKenzie's seductive voice, now was quiet except for the traffic noise from the street below. His efforts at trying to snag Sarah after Harm joined the CIA Air Corps blew up in his face.

Clayton sighed and looked down at his answering machine. The light was winking furiously at him. "Aw right, all right," he slurred. "Jus't a minute." He punched the 'play' button.

The machine's tape rewound and began rattling off its accumulated messages, noting the day and time they were sent. Clay didn't care. He had already sunk back into the loveseat, his head tilted back, eyes closed, trying to will away the pounding headache and lingering nausea.

BEEP – Monday, 12:31 pm: 'Mr. Webb? It's Laurie June…you haven't checked in for three days and Mr. Kershaw wants a status report. Please call as soon as you can.' Clay shook his head and laughed sardonically (How was what happened today for 'a status report'?)

BEEP – Monday, 1:48 pm: 'Clayton, it's your mother…remember we have our fencing match on Thursday at 2:00. I'll talk with you soon.' Clay shook his head (sure Mother,) he thought sarcastically, (just like always…wouldn't want to upset our precious schedule, now would we?)

BEEP – Tuesday, 5:47 pm: 'Clay? It's Cindy. Where are you? You were supposed to meet me at La Vancia for dinner at 5:30. Clay? Are you there? (Great,) he thought darkly, (Blew another date….)

BEEP – Tuesday, 10:22 pm: 'Clay, it's Cindy again. I know, I should have expected this. I guess your not showing up has to do with the terrorist attack doesn't it? Oh yeah, that's probably need to know as well, right? And I don't. Well, call me when you're available.' Clay reached over toward his desk grabbing for a pad and pencil (I gotta call her back, providing I can find where I wrote down her number….)

BEEP – Wednesday, 12:07 am: 'Webb? This is Deputy Director Kershaw. I need you to check in as soon as you can.' Clay did a quick scan of the clock radio – the LED read 12:42 am. '…and I'm sending a fax to your machine. I think the JAG officers in Iraq would appreciate having this, especially Colonel MacKenzie.'

As the machine clicked off with its impersonal 'No more messages at this time' report, Special Agent Webb pushed himself up off the loveseat and headed over to his secure fax/printer. As he watched, the last two pages of a lengthy report were printing out.

He gathered up the pages and began reading through them. Despite his drunken state,

the CIA Intelligence Operative felt the shock of the words on the page course through his alcohol enfeebled mind.

CLASSIFICATION: TOP SECRET

Situation Report: ACIT has confirmed that e-mail and cell phone communication verified what 'Rancher' and 'Scimitar' reported on 30 Mar 2003. The Al-Qaeda cell in the Mirbullah area under command of Samir al-Sahood, divisional leader for the An Diwaniyah region is receiving help from within a Coalition Joint Task Force 11 [CJTF-11] unit, the 3-2 Marine Expeditionary Unit [MEU] – see individual report for OIF-M7….

Webb's eyes had a harder time than usual keeping focus on the techno-jargon. It was the next paragraph that sobered him and brought his mind and his eyes back into sharp focus:

…It is considered highly likely that within the next 96 to 120 hours that former regime elements and members of the Mirbullah cell will attempt a disruptive attack on Coalition forces near the Multi-National Defense [Central]. This attack is believed to have a 90-96% probability of using weapons of mass destruction – most likely chemical or biological in nature….

Clay put down the faxed report and fumbled unsteadily for his black zippered binder lying at the foot of the loveseat. Forcing his fingers to thumb through the pages, he found the name and number he wanted.

The agent fished around in his pocket until he found his cell phone and turned it on. Hitting the scrambler button, he punched in the numbers and sat down heavily on the edge of his sofa that was next to the photocopier/facsimile machine. The phone clicked as the long distance connection was made and began ringing.

"Night duty desk, Sergeant Reyes."

Webb tried to keep focused on his task. "Reyes? This is Lieutenant Wilksbury…."

The efficient Marine voice transformed into that of a friend happy to hear another friend's voice. "Sir! It's good to hear your voice."

The youthful enthusiasm rolled through Clayton's ears like a giant bass drum. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to keep from screaming. "It's uh, good to hear…yours too…Reyes."

"Sir?" concern was etched into the young non-commissioned officer's voice. "Are you all right?"

"Just…just tied on one too many celebrating, Reyes."

"Yes sir, I understand, sir."

"Look, I… really don't have a lot of time… to talk. I have a priority fax that… I need to send to your office. Eyes only for the JAG Corps officers."

"You can count on me, sir."

"I know I can, Reyes…."

"Yes sir, thank you. And sir?"

"Yes Reyes?"

"I have a hangover recipe from my mother, that works wonders Sir. I could fax it to you…." He let the suggestion hang in the air.

Clay thought about what the man was offering. Sure, it was breach of a whole ream of procedures and security protocols, but Reyes had never steered him wrong before. Besides, there was that inevitable meeting with Kershaw in the morning. It might be best to be as sharp as he could be for that meeting. "Sure Reyes, use the number I'm using."

"Your girlfriend's place again, sir?" Reyes asked noncommittally.

"Sarah is out of the country right now," he replied with a half white lie. Sarah was out of the country, but he'd never told the Sergeant that this phone number was his and not Sarah MacKenzie's. Clay smiled a wistful smile remembering times past, "She doesn't mind…."

"Okay sir. It'll be on its way as soon as I receive your fax."

"Thank you Sergeant. Semper Fi"

"Semper Fi, sir," The line went dead.

Clayton picked up the report and loaded it into his fax machine, dialed the number, the prefix set and the access code. Just before it began to feed into the machine, Clay hurriedly scribbled a brief note along a name and phone number across the top of the page. Satisfied, he sat down heavily in the desk chair next to the sofa and the facsimile machine. After giving himself a moment, he hit the send button. Within moments the high-speed machine was sending the report to Mirbullah.

0330 Local

Office of the Secretary of Defense

The Pentagon

The Secretary of the Navy Edward Sheffield walked slowly into the room and uneasily settled into the chair in front of his boss, the SecDef, who was reading intelligence briefs.

The fact that the vinyl chair made embarrassing squeaking noises when he sat down did nothing to alleviate Edward Sheffield's worry – in fact, it increased it.

The SecDef looked up at Sheffield. His face was like chiseled stone.

"I take it we stopped them before they could do any real damage…." SecDef asked as he got up from his chair and walked toward his window.

The SecNav swallowed audibly, wiping sweat from his forehead with his white handkerchief. "Uh, Yes, sir, thanks to CIA Special Agent Webb and Admiral Chegwidden's staff-"

"Ed, we've talked about this before." The SecDef's voice was deceptively calm as he turned around. "I thought you said these kinds of shenanigans were going to stop when you became SecNav. Nelson couldn't seem to get it through his moronic thick skull, that's why he isn't here anymore."

"Uh, yes sir."

"That's some JAG Headquarters we've got – the JAG's a former SEAL and his top lawyers are a Marine, a former Top Gun, a former bubblehead and a former Public Affairs Officer."

The SecDef moved closer to his sweating subordinate. "Damn it, Ed, the Office of the Judge Advocate General had casualties- and we're not just talking wounded, either! Did you see the feed from ZNN? Hell, it made Baghdad look like peanuts! Now all of DC has the terror jitters again, and I had to assure the President that this would not happen again on my watch. But I really can't do that, now can I Ed!"

Edward Sheffield sank deeper into his seat, stinging from this rebuke. "No- no sir,"

The SecDef walked back over to his window, seeming to calm down. "As you can probably guess the President is furious." He turned again to face Sheffield giving him a hard glare. "Whosever failure this is will be gone before the winter, I can guarantee that, Ed."

"I totally agree sir, they should have their careers trashed and be tossed out."

The SecDef gave him a cruel smile. "Don't be so eager to help bury them, Ed. You might be burying yourself." The SecDef picked up an after action summary and gave it a cursory glance before looking at the Secretary of the Navy again.

"Were you aware of what was found in that JAGMan investigation that lead to this attack?"

Edward Sheffield swallowed nervously. "Yes sir, it was one of Admiral Chegwidden's staff members who found the plans-"

"The terrorists were going to break into Quantico MCB and steal one of our Paladin self-propelled guns, then those SOB's were going to play shoot-and-scoot on the I-95 corridor! Do you realize what havoc that would have caused? It's rush hour 24/7 on that sorry excuse for an interstate! Not to mention the resources we would have had to tie down to look for them?"

The SecNav sank back in his seat. "Uh, yes sir, I do…."

The SecDef took a moment to calm himself down as he walked back to his desk chair and sat down facing Sheffield. He steepled his hands in front of his stern face. "The staff member who found the plans, what was her name again?"

The SecNav leapt at this opportunity to help the SecDef. "Coates, Mr. Secretary, Petty Officer 2nd Class Jennifer Coates, she's a Legalman assigned to assist the JAG attorneys. But she wasn't the only one involved sir. Petty Officer Jason Tiner helped her discover the plans. Then Lieutenant Harriet Sims and Sergeant Marla Givers translated the documents and did a quick analysis of them-"

The SecDef raised his hand to stop the man's rambling. "As I heard it, Petty Officer Tiner also kept Coates and himself from being killed in the initial Al-Qaeda ambush, as well as two JAG Security officers…."

"That's true sir. Unfortunately, one of the troops, uh, Lance Corporal Gadsden I believe, was killed in the ensuing gun battle with the terrorists…."

"After *Corporal Gadsden* killed several of them himself, Ed."

"Oh, yes sir, that's right."

"Tell me Ed, what were Petty Officers Tiner and Coates doing out on a field investigation?"

"They do those kinds of things sometimes, sir. They're usually doing footwork for an attorney. Getting testimony from witnesses, following leads developed by the

attorneys-"

The SecDef took off his glasses and pointed them at the SecNav. "—what I don't understand is why they had two of the security team with them, and more importantly, why were they armed in the first place? Were they expecting trouble?"

For the first time in this 'conversation' Edward Sheffield felt himself to be on solid ground. "Because Admiral Chegwidden suspected Mrs. Dodge had given them the plans as a signal that she might know more about the terrorists. He wanted them to be prepared in case the situation turned dangerous, so he ordered them armed and for Corporals Bauer and Gadsden to accompany them."

The SecDef leaned back in his chair and let all of this information sink in. "Damned lucky I guess, except that it lead to those goons trying to kill them."

"Yes sir." The SecNav knew what was coming.

"And that culminated in a suicide attack that left fifteen Sailors and Marines and four civilians dead and at least four dozen wounded or injured! Not to mention terrorizing the entire East Coast!"

Edward Sheffield knew what his boss was implying, but he wasn't about to let Admiral Chegwidden become a scapegoat just to satisfy some Washington bureaucrats' consciences'.

"Mr. Secretary, if it hadn't been for Admiral Chegwidden and his staff, there might have been a lot more people killed. I would daresay we owe Admiral Chegwidden our thanks for stopping what could have been a horrendous terrorist attack, rivaling 9-11, dead in its tracks."

The SecDef had almost forgotten that Ed Sheffield had once been a Marine. However, when properly provoked, the politician would disappear and the soldier in him would emerge.

The SecDef smiled disarmingly. "You're right Ed; we do owe that man, and his staff, a debt of thanks…."

Before the SecNav could respond, his superior shifted emotional gears on him.

"However, now *we***** have a large mess that needs to be cleaned up ASAP. Ed, I'm only going to say this once. Have those JAG lawyers investigating the situation in Mirbullah find out what the connection is between Mirbullah and what happened here, or you and Nelson will both be able to commiserate about what might have been."

-TBC


	42. Chapter 41

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 41

Camp Chesty Puller

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Harm and Mac now fully dressed were sitting on the bed. Harm at the head and Mac at the other end. Between them was a large stack of files, an open records storage box, a sheaf of photos and a topographic map of Mirbullah and the surrounding area. There were also printouts of Bud's recreation of the March battle and ambush.

Both looked up at each other when they heard a knock on the door to Mac's quarters.

"I'd better get that," Mac said, as she slid off the bed and walked over to the door.

The Marine attorney recognized the soldier as soon as she opened the door just enough to stick her head out. It was Corporal Devin Richards.

His smile gave Mac a queasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Yes, Corporal?" she said as blandly as possible.

"Sorry to disturb your rest, ma'am. There's a fax for you. Captain Johnson told me to let you know about it."

The Marine JAG officer plastered a fake smile on her face. "Thank you, corporal, I'll be right there…."

Mac closed the door and turned back toward her partner.

"What do you think?" she whispered, not sure that Richards had left the door yet.

Harm got up off the bed. "I think we'd better find out what's in that fax that Johnson wouldn't let out of his sight."

Mac nodded her agreement to that thought.

1837 Local/0037 Zulu

132 Meridia Way

Key West, Florida

"Uncle!" cried the seven-year-old girl, as she ran through the yard toward the immaculately dressed man sporting jet black hair and steel rimmed glasses. His facial hair consisted of a pencil thin mustache and the faintest hint of a beard.

He opened his arms wide to the smiling girl.

"Atiya," he said warmly, as he lifted her off the ground and gave her a big hug.

"How is my favorite niece?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Better now that you are here," she said plaintively.

"Oh?" he asked, curious as to what might be bothering his favorite niece.

"Uh huh," she said her arms still wrapped around his neck. "Fadil got a new Gameboy an' won't share it with me."

'Uncle' Hammad smiled. If only all his problems were this simple. "Well, I think I can solve that, little one." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a Gameboy identical to Fadil's.

The girl let out a squeal "Oh thank you Uncle!" She cried as she looked at the electronic toy.

"Yours has your name in gold lettering so Fadil won't pick it up by mistake."

"Thank you Uncle!" That earned him another big hug.

"Come on," Hammad said still holding her. "Let's go see what your mother has cooking for dinner."

As he carried the child back toward the house, Hammad was inwardly disgusted by his niece embracing Western toys like this one. Still, it kept her happy. He thought sadly about the fact that one day soon he'd probably have to kill them all including her. They were a liability to his operations and they had adopted the infidel ways.

But not yet.

Right now he had to concentrate on getting back to Iraq. And that would entail a boat trip to Cuba….

"You have a fax for me, Captain?"

"More like a fax package, Colonel," Captain Johnson said as he pulled the stapled document out of his desk drawer. "It arrived a few minutes ago."

He handed the thick document to Mac. "Sergeant Reyes brought it over from the communications room."

She scanned the document's cover page: CLASSIFIED – FOR JUDGE ADVOCATE GENERAL CORPS ATTORNEYS was neatly typed out as was the title –

THREAT ASSESSMENT FOR THE US AND COALITION FORCES – SUMMER 2003

She was about to turn the page when she looked up and saw hastily scribbled in Clayton Webb's handwriting near the top of the page 'Mr. Green – 202-555-7071 - DSD'

Harm noticed her hesitation in opening the document and peered over her shoulder. "Who's Mr. Green?"

"I don't know," Mac replied, somewhat irritated by the tall Commander looking over her shoulder. "Do you mind?"

"It's addressed to all of us, Marine," he said glibly, enjoying her discomfort, "not just you."

He looked at the page again and began reading aloud "Threat assessment…"

She pulled the document out of his line of vision. "I can read, you know."

"Fine, I can wait," he said nonchalantly. "Who is it from anyway?"

Mac scanned the cover page and then the first page of the document. "It doesn't say…." She said slowly examining the pages again to see if she missed something besides Clayton's scrawl. She didn't want to tell Harm what she saw since he and Clay were on such 'good' terms right now.

The Commander's face screwed up in irritation, "This has Webb written all over it."

"What does that mean?" she said perturbed by his use of Webb's name as an oath.

"C'mon Mac, a threat assessment document unsigned with a hastily –wait a minute, that is Webb's handwriting. I knew it! This screams CIA and Clayton Webb!"

"What is it with you and Webb, Harm?" she probed, "You used to be friends-"

"You wouldn't understand," the tall aviator/attorney said cryptically, walking away from her.

The Marine Lieutenant Colonel strode over in front of Harm put her hands on her hips as she faced him. "Try me,"

"Maac," he warned. He didn't want to get into this with her. It certainly wouldn't enhance the afterglow of their lovemaking.

Even though he didn't spell out his warning, the Marine knew exactly what he was talking about and she was going to put a stop to any future conflicts with Webb. This display of machismo and bull-headedness between these two had to stop.

"Harm, you have to get past this…this thing with Webb. What is it with you two lately?"

Harm shrugged trying to get out discussing this topic, why was it that women always wanted to talk about things?

"We're just pushing each others' buttons lately,"

She raised one eyebrow. "Is that what you call it?"

Harm gave her an exasperated sigh. "Look, he hasn't always been above-board with us," he said lamely in an attempt to justify his recent animosity toward the CIA Agent.

"But he always comes through in the end, Harm," she said defensively.

The Commander looked away from her and off toward an undefined point in the distance "Maybe in the old days…"

"But…"she added to his unfinished sentence.

Harm turned back and gave her a piercing stare. "What do you mean 'but'?"

She gave him one right back. "Harm, there is a 'but' there,"

He shook his head. "There is no 'but' Mac,"

"You're dropping chaff Hammer." She stalked away from him. Out of the corner of her eye, she'd seen Corporal Richards watching them.

Harm stood there for a moment, frozen, as if he had been slapped. Then, shaking himself out of the spell he charged after her. "I *am not* dropping chaff and there is no 'but'." At her unspoken signal he noted that Richards was watching them.

(Showtime) she thought. A sarcastic smirk spread across her face.

"Okay then Flyboy, let me fill it in for you. 'But Mac, when Webb took an overt interest in you, he crossed a line-" She did a fairly good impression of Harm even getting the voice inflection right.

Harm was impressed. Now it was his turn. He could ham it up as good as she could. "Crossed a line? His eyebrows reached into his hairline, "I never said that!"

Mac gave him a sly smile that Richards couldn't see that belied her harsh words. "Yes you did, Stickboy, maybe in not so many words…."

Harm would have given her one back if he were not facing the Corporal. Instead he opted for Academy award winning ham acting. "Mac, he's always had an interest in you and if I remember correctly you always found him, I think the word was 'intriguing'."

"So now it's my fault?" The Marine attorney said feigning being stupefied at his accusation.

Harm was 'quick to back away' from this idea. "I didn't say that…."

"But you implied it," Mac, the Marine attorney, was lining up Flyboy for the kill shot.

She was really getting into this now.

Harm was quick to pull out of her firing range. "Mac, you're putting words in my mouth."

"Only the ones you won't say," she snorted theatrically.

The aviator/attorney decided it was time to play wounded duck and maybe tweak her image of Webb at the same time. "Mac, Paraguay messed with all of us, you…me…and Webb. He was trying to make up for the intel he leaked regarding the Angel Shark. He saw getting Sadik Fahd and Raul Garcia as a way to get back into Kershaw's good graces."

She knew what he was doing. "And I was an added bonus, I guess, right?" she did her best to sound insulted.

Meanwhile Harm did his best to sound sanctimonious…maybe a little too much. "Well yeah, I think he saw you that way…."

She rolled her eyes. "Harm, after as many times as we have been through this, don't you think that's a little narrow-minded?"

"What?" He snarled trying his best to sound confused and aggravated at the same time.

Mac was doing an excellent impression of the frustrated female – she had lots of practice. "Holding it against Webb. I was there too, you know…."

Harm decided to throw in a dash of self-righteous defensiveness just for good measure. "I know Mac, I came down there to rescue you, remember?"

Mac shook her head, growled and closed her eyes as if a fly were irritating her. "That's beside the point! Look Flyboy, after Sadik caught us, we were all we had, or so we thought. We didn't stop to think anyone might mount a rescue operation to save our sorry skins. It was a CIA Op and we both expected to die. We were giving each other comfort in the face of impending death."

The Marine Lieutenant Colonel decided that being nonchalant about this whole thing would give Richards all the ammo he needed for his 'report'. "The point is Harm, you can't just hold it against Webb. I was there too. It takes two to tango, Sailor. What happened, happened."

"And I should just leave it at that?" Harm knew that what she said was part of the act but he couldn't help feeling it was part truth as well.

He folded his arms protectively crossed across his chest, "There was a time you told me you couldn't just turn it on and off like a bilge pump…."

She gave him a faint smile as she remembered that emotional comment. "Bilge switch and that was a long time ago." Her smile disappeared as she put her hand to his face. "Yes, Harm, bury the hatchet with him. Let it go."

The tall Naval Commander knew this wasn't part of their act. It fit with the rest of the conversation that was supposedly taking place between two jealous lovers, but she also really wanted him to forgive Clay.

They walked back toward her quarters in silence.

Devin Richards watched until the two fire-brands walked out of his line of sight before turning and making a beeline for Darcy's quarters. This lover's spat was just what the Colonel needed to hear about.

As they reached her door, Mac wanted to use this playacting they were doing for the benefit of Darcy's minions to make one more point with him "You know if it hadn't been for-"

She stopped herself before she almost said 'both of us – meaning her and Clayton' which would have started another whole round of questions and accusations and not as part of 'scene' they were staging for someone else's benefit.

Despite her ability to stop herself before she said something potentially explosive, Harm immediately picked up on her verbal miscue. "Been for what, Mac?" He stopped and gave her a curious stare.

Now she had done it. She had to at least tell him part of what happened or he'd poke and prod her trying to get at what she didn't say.

She gave him a pained look. "I was going to say, 'if it hadn't been for Webb', you would have never gotten back to JAG."

It was actually the truth, but Harm didn't know that. In fact, he thought it was rather crass of her to claim Webb had gotten him his old job back.

"I'll be sure to thank him the next time I see him," Harm said sarcastically.

0445 Local

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

AJ walked past the shattered guard house at the entrance to JAG Corps HQ. Blood stains were still on the ground where Sergeant Ramirez and Corporal Burkett along with Bauer, Gadsden, Coates and Tiner had fought the terrorists to a standstill.

(I'll never look at that guard house the same way again,) he thought as he made his way past the Marines manning a machinegun in its sandbagged remains. A camera crew from ZNN was taking stock shots and one of the Marines gave the man a 'thumbs up' sign.

The mood here had imperceptibly changed in the last few hours. It had reached a low point when the search and rescue parties finally began combing through the wreckage in the parking lot. Dr. Mallard had been with them when they found the CO of the Security Company.

"Over here Dr. Mallard, we found another one…."

"Hey! Hey! Watch it, watch it! Easy with him—get the doc over here!"

"Well doc?"

"It's fairly academic what happened to him, Leftenant. The poor devil never stood a bloody chance…."

Captain Jimenez's broken and battered body had been gingerly, respectfully carried to a waiting ambulance along with 1st Lieutenant Eddie Caulfield who was found not too far from the Captain's car. They had apparently been talking in the parking lot when the attack started.

The attack had succeeded in one of its goals. To gut the command staff of the Security Company. He would have to ask Secretary Sheffield and the 8th and I CO to do some personnel shuffling and quickly so he could reconstitute the command staff and the bullpen personnel as soon as possible.

Reconstitute. Such a cold word for replacing dead commissioned and noncommissioned officers, some of whom he had personally known. It was something he didn't like thinking about.

It was also something he never would have expected he would have to do at JAG Corps.

Attending the funeral of those two guards that were killed by Vasily Rokotov's car bomb had been hard. Attending the funerals of fifteen dead Sailors and Marines and four dead civilians, including one police officer, that would be much harder.

The noise and chaos of yesterday was still fresh in his mind, just like another memory that was seared into his mind and soul no matter how hard he tried to forget it.

He had been in the SecNav's office for a meeting that fateful Tuesday morning…

"What do you mean she gave her medal to a civilian, AJ?"

"It's complicated, Mr. Secretary, Colonel MacKenzie felt that the civilian deserved her MSM more than she did."

"AJ, those Meritorious Service medals don't just grow on trees-"

"I think she knows that, Mr. Secretary…."

"Look, AJ, we can't have—what the hell was that?"

"We need to get out of here, Mr. Secretary!"

"AJ! What's going on?"

"I don't know Mr. Secretary! But it sounds like we've been hit by something big! We need to leave sir! Now!"

They had been fortunate that the Secretary's office had not been closer to Flight 77's impact area. Admiral Chegwidden had gathered the SecNav, his aides and anyone else they found in the hallways and lead them to safety. They'd crawled through smoke choked darkened corridors, gasping and wheezing as they breathed in the hot acrid air. Each held a foot or ankle of the person in front of him. Some of the voices seeking help or solace drifted to his tortured ears even as AJ shouted encouragement back to them:

"Ohhh Godd…I don't want to die…." a voice wailed pitifully.

AJ felt his heart constrict in anguish at not being able to help the trapped and possibly dying soldier. "Hang in there son, help is on the way…."

And so it went. Each time a voice reached up out of the hellish darkness, AJ would shout comfort or encouragement as he passed them.

"Mama, mama I'll be with you soon…."

"Stay strong son, don't give up…."

"Ye though I walk…through the valley…of darkness…."

"I will fear no evil…."

"Our Father…who art in…heaven…."

"Hallowed be thy name…."

"It's so dark and I'm so tired…I just want to sleep…."

Stay awake son! Don't give up! Help will be here soon…

For months he heard their sobs and smelled that horrible burning odor about him, no matter where he was.

Once his group had been secured away from the building, he had joined the thousands frantically trying to use their cell phones, finally getting through to JAG Headquarters to let them know he was all right. He only wished he had time to call Francesca and let her know.

Harm had answered the phone and informed him that he'd ordered a lockdown of JAG Corps Headquarters. Mac and Sturgis were in the process of securing the Welles facility. It made him feel good to know he had such a good team. He'd even been mildly surprised when Lieutenant Singer hadn't tried to show up the senior staff. JAG was running like a well oiled machine.

He didn't remember much else from that morning or the rest of the afternoon, just volunteering to be part of search and rescue teams. They sorted through the jet fuel scorched rubble for the better part of the day looking for survivors, leading them out of the inferno or to waiting medical personnel.

When he finally made it back to JAG Headquarters that evening, the entire staff, both enlisted and officers, were waiting for him. Loyal and dedicated, not a single one had secured. It was obvious they were glad to see their Commanding Officer alive. Though they didn't ask the obvious questions, he tried to give them as much as he knew about the current situation regarding the terrorist attacks.

One thing was certain; he thought he'd never see rubble like that again.

It's funny how fate treats you sometimes. Now the Admiral was looking at his own scorched and battle damaged building.

The JAG stood in the courtyard surveying the mess. Pottery and masonry works shattered by gunfire. Shrubs and trees stripped of their foliage leaving stark winter-like skeletal stalks.

Over to his left, the attorney's parking lot was filled with bullet-riddled, and in some cases, burned out vehicles. Carcasses of cars and SUVs littered the yard, including his own badly damaged Escalade.

(Damn, and I thought it was bad when Sidney's son got my car stolen….) he thought grimly.

Then his eyes moved to the flagpole. It had one or two bullet holes in it, but it was still erect.

He wasn't prepared to see the American flag illuminated by the damage assessment teams' spotlights. The flag seemed to be waving defiantly in the early morning breeze as if saying it was ready for another fight.

The sight made AJ's eyes inexplicably tear up and a lump rose in his throat.

As often is the case in emergencies, routine went out the window and no one had been tasked with lowering the flag the previous evening. Now, as it had done in previous tragedies and disasters, Old Glory was still flying high at her post.

Admiral Chegwidden stood at his thinking spot by his window. In times past what he had liked best about this window was that it afforded him a view of the garden area. At least it had been untouched by the all the violence of yesterday.

He didn't hear Lieutenant Sims knock.

"Excuse me, Admiral…." Her voice was business-like. She had a manila folder in her hand.

AJ's face screwed up in irritation and confusion. "Lieutenant, what devil are you doing here at this hour?"

Harriet's voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry for intruding, sir, I just needed to give you this…." She handed him a typewritten sheet from her folder.

AJ scowled as he looked at the letter.

"Lieutenant Sims, what is this?" The edge was evident in AJ's voice.

"My resignation, sir," she replied quietly

"Lieutenant-" He began in an annoyed voice.

Harriet was not about to be stopped. Her voice trembled with anguish.

"Sir, I was emotional, irrational, and I disobeyed a direct order from a superior officer. Not only that, I endangered my unborn child. I have no business being at JAG or in the Navy."

AJ Chegwidden sighed; he really didn't need this right now. But then, do problems ever arise at an opportune moment?

"Are you dissatisfied with-" He stopped in mid-thought. That approach wouldn't work this time. He had started that way the last time they had this conversation. Then he had an idea. "scratch that…Lieutenant, do you remember the last time we had this conversation?"

Harriet looked at him for a moment, confused. Tears brimmed in the young pregnant Lieutenant's blue eyes as she returned to looking straight ahead. "No sir."

AJ's face took on a thoughtful countenance. "As I recall, you felt that because you had struck Commander Rabb that you didn't belong at JAG."

She tried to stand even straighter than she already was, waiting for his rebuke. "Yes sir,"

"And as I further recall, I told you it was perfectly normal to respond the way you did when you saw the photos from that child abuse case that the Commander was handling."

He saw a glimmer of recognition light her eyes regarding that incident. The Navy JAG chuckled.

"Hell, I've lost count of the number of times I wanted to hit the Commander myself," he said half-jokingly with a grim smile on his face.

That brought a nervous titter from Harriet.

Realizing he had said that thought aloud, AJ cleared his throat and continued.

"Well, uh, I also remember that you actually didn't hit the Commander, but were emotionally distraught and that your hands had accidentally struck the Commander, did they not?"

Harriet was doing the best she could to follow his logic, but the former SEAL was losing her.

"Yes, sir, but what does that have to do with-"

AJ gently interrupted her. "The point is Lieutenant, I do not feel you have disobeyed a direct order. You hesitated. Given the stress of the situation and the fact you are pregnant-"

"Which is why I shouldn't be here, sir!" Harriet blurted out. She was good at saying what was on her mind, damn the consequences…and today was no exception.

"May I finish, Lieutenant?" He said with a razor edge coming back into his voice.

"Yes, sir," the embarrassed Lieutenant mumbled.

"As I was saying, given the fact you are pregnant, you're prone to make less than rational decisions, as has happened in times past."

He gave her his best piercing glare, hoping she would get his point.

"Are you following me, Lieutenant?"

In the back of his mind, the Admiral remembered many Harriet moments, but the one he thought best fit this situation was the time when Harriet, pregnant with little AJ, had 'cleaned' the office refrigerator threw out his Risotto claiming things were 'growing in there'.

Harriet Sims standing across from the JAG also thought of that incident. She had tried to blot that unfortunate incident and her 'nesting' comment from her mind, but his observations just now brought those thoughts bubbling back to the surface.

"Yes sir." She said in a somber voice. She fought hard not to let tears come to her eyes; she would miss working here….

AJ picked up the piece of paper off his desk and put on his reading glasses looking at the letter again. Then he looked back at her and gave her a gentle smile.

"As far as I am concerned, you did follow my orders Lieutenant. There was just some…hesitation that would be considered…normal…given the situation."

Harriet's first thought was confusion. Wasn't he going to accept her resignation? She thought that's what he'd indicated. Now here he was smiling at her and telling her what she did was understandable, even acceptable given the circumstances.

"Really sir?" There was a hint of disbelief in her voice but she wanted so badly to believe him.

AJ chuckled and gave her another warm smile. "Really, Lieutenant."

Now Harriet had a tentative smile on her face. "Yes, sir…uh, thank you, sir, Admiral."

Seeing that she was getting his point, he became his usual gruff JAG self again. He looked down at desk suddenly becoming very interested in the reports on his desk. This was getting a little too personal.

"Return to your duties, Lieutenant. Dismissed."

"Yes sir! Aye, aye, sir." Harriet said, executing a perfect about face and heading for the door. Before she opened it, she paused and turned around to face him again.

AJ looked up at her.

"Again, thank you sir." she said with heartfelt appreciation before turning and heading out the door before he could say anything.

AJ Chegwidden watched her leave; Bud Roberts was a lucky man. It really was too bad she didn't have an older sister.

The Admiral took the letter and tore it in half. He smiled to himself and shook his head as he dropped the torn pieces into his trashcan.

-TBC…


	43. Chapter 42

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 42

Jason could see Jennifer Coates' prone form lying on the asphalt. To her left one of the terrorists that had followed them back to JAG Headquarters was pointing a smoking pistol at her.

"You are too late Petty Officer," said the smiling terrorist. "Your pretty little friend is dead."

Jason started to run toward the man, but his feet felt like lead weights.

The terrorist threw back his head and let out a hearty laugh looking not unlike a pirate from one of those late night movies. The man began firing his pistol into her lifeless body. "See how she dances? You will join her soon enough, my friend."

"Nooooo! Jennnniffferrrr!" Jason could hear himself yelling. All he wanted to do right now was reach out and strangle this sadistic killer.

"Geetttt Awwwaaayyy frommm herrrr!" He barked as he lunged at the terrorist, knocking the gun out of his hands. That's when the Admiral's Yeoman saw the knife.

"Welcome to hell, infidel," hissed the man as he shoved the knife toward Jason's heart. The Petty Officer was able to get his hand in the way and he felt the white hot searing pain as the knife plunged deep into his arm.

Jason somehow knew that the man's next thrust would kill him. The inertness of Jennifer's form told him she was dead; maybe he should just let the man kill him too. It would save him from suffering the grief he could feel welling up in him.

The knife moved toward him again; the Petty Officer braced for the impact of the cold steel against the soft flesh of his chest—

It was bright.

"Oh, I'm sorry," said a feminine voice quietly, "Is that too much? I didn't mean to disturb you…."

Jason Tiner tried to orient himself…everything was fuzzy and diffused. His mouth tasted like dried paste.

"Would you like some water?" the voice asked.

Jason nodded his head. The Petty Officer 1st class knew now he was strapped down to some kind of bed. Had the terrorists taken him hostage? Maybe he shouldn't take that drink of water he was being offered….

"Do you know where you are?" inquired the female voice.

The Admiral's Yeoman, only seeing shadows and light, hoped she wasn't the enemy.

He shook his head.

"You're in the intensive care unit at Bethesda Naval Hospital, in Bethesda Maryland. Open your mouth a little more for the straw…."

Jason's vision was slowly coming back. He could see her shape hovering over him as he opened his parched lips. Though his training told him not to, his need for water overrode his caution. The icy shock of cold water flowed into his mouth through the straw.

"Small sips Petty Officer, you don't want to choke," the form gently admonished.

He felt the water moisten the inside of him mouth and trickle down his dry throat.

Jason cleared his throat. "Where-" began to croak and then lapsed into a fit of coughing, sending spasms of pain shooting through his body.

"Unnnhhh," he said gritting his teeth against the hurt. "Where's Jennifer?"

"Who?" the voice inquired. Jason's vision had cleared enough that he could see a fuzzy representation of woman standing over him.

He cleared his throat again. "The Petty Officer I was brought in with – Petty Officer Coates."

The Admiral's Yeoman could now see enough to notice the sympathetic look on the woman's face. If she had noticed him using his fellow soldier's first name, she wasn't letting him know.

"She's down the hall," the nurse tried to give him an encouraging smile. "The Petty Officer hasn't regained consciousness yet, but the doctor expects her to do so later this afternoon…."

Jason laid his head back on his pillow and silently said a prayer of thanks. Jennifer was alive.

"Sir, Director Tom Morrow from NCIS is on line one," Harriet said pertly.

"Put him through Lieutenant," AJ waited for the line to buzz in his office. Thank God, at least the phones were still working.

As soon as the line lit up, AJ spoke into the receiver. "This is Admiral Chegwidden."

"Good morning Admiral, how goes the clean up?"

The JAG looked sourly around his bullet scarred office. "As well as can be expected Mr. Director," AJ said dryly. He really did not want to waste time with a lot of polite chit-chat, so he decided to force the NCIS Director to get to his point for calling this early.

"As you can guess Mr. Director, I'm really busy this morning, what can I do for you?"

AJ could almost hear the man's wry smile "Admiral, I'll come right to the point. I've been asked by the SecNav to investigate this terrorist attack and its connection with the Dodge murder trial."

"And why is that, Mr. Director?" The JAG already knew the answer.

"Because according to evidence your people found, the Falls Church terrorist cell is related to the terrorists in Mirbullah."

"I see…."

"And the SecNav and the SecDef believe there is a direct correlation between the terrorists who were holding Mrs. Dodge and the ones that are in communication with the traitors within the 36th MEU."

AJ began to get defensive. "My team is handling that," he said brusquely.

"Let me remind you Admiral," Tom said clinically, "According to DOD regulations, *we're* the primary law enforcement arm of the US Navy and Marine Corps. Our job

is-"

"I know what your job is, Mr. Director," the JAG said interrupting. "And your people did a hell of job yesterday."

Tom Morrow sat back in his chair, not sure if that was a back handed compliment or an in-your-face insult.

"I sent every man I had available Admiral, including my lead senior agent."

AJ Chegwidden thought back to how Leroy Jethro Gibbs had been just the kind of backup they needed yesterday.

"I know Mr. Director and we appreciated the help."

"We could have prevented this attack if we had been in on this investigation from the beginning," he pressed.

AJ wasn't about to accept responsibility for causing this attack. "I doubt your folks could have done any better, Mr. Director. We had specific orders from the SecNav as well to investigate the death of Lieutenant Dodge—that's part of *our charge* 'to investigate, prosecute, and defend' and also part of *our job* Mr. Director, is to find out the truth in any incident…good, bad…or ugly."

"Commander Harmon Rabb is heading your investigation in Mirbullah?"

"Yes, and he's the lead defending attorney in the Dodge murder case."

"The Cobra gunship crew that allegedly shot and killed Dodge?"

"That's right, why?"

"Because we've gotten reports from Rabb that there have been several more murders, Admiral. I think you could use our help."

"And I'm certain my team can handle this. Commander Rabb was informing your agency per protocol. My attorneys are fully qualified in investigative techniques-"

The NCIS Director wanted to head off any long drawn out arguments. "I believe your other team from the Naval Legal Service Office branch in Bahrain was fully qualified and we both know what happened to them."

That hurt. AJ wished he had never ordered Commander Lexington to send those young JAG attorneys into that mess but it seemed so cut and dried at the time. Well Director Morrow might be right about that lapse in judgment, but JAG wasn't the only organization with shortcomings.

"Your agents haven't always been the chummiest with Commander Rabb, including Agent Gibbs."

Tom Morrow knew that several of his agents had little good to say about the Navy's poster boy, Harmon Rabb, junior.

"Admiral, NCIS specifically hired Special Agent Gibbs because of his military experience and his ability to understand Sailors and Marines and their environment," The NCIS Director said pointedly. "I get the impression this resistance might be due to the murder investigation involving Commander Rabb this spring."

AJ straightened in his chair. (You're damn right it is!) "Your Special Agent Gibbs almost railroaded one of my top lawyers!" Despite efforts to restrain himself, the JAG found he was nearly biting the Director's head off.

Tom Morrow was quick to respond trying show they were on the same side. "But Admiral remember, it was Agent DiNozzo, at Agent Gibbs insistence I might add, who cleared your Commander-"

AJ wasn't going to let him off that easy. "After almost getting him convicted of murder on virtual hearsay and circumstantial evidence!"

The NCIS Director knew he was right and understood he was under a lot of pressure, more than any one man should be.

"All right Admiral, I see your point." He conceded. "Can we at least make this a joint NCIS-JAG investigation? I can have my team there by tomorrow evening at the latest-"

AJ had a satisfied smile on his face. "We can make it a joint JAG-NCIS investigation as long as JAG Corps has jurisdiction over the joint investigation."

Harmon Rabb hated what he was about to do, but because of the terrorist attack on JAG Headquarters, he had no other choice.

The phone line clicked bringing the tall Navy aviator/lawyer out of ruminations. "Commander Rabb, JAG Corps. Let me speak with Special Agent Gibbs," He told the person on the other end of the line.

The line clicked again then a gruff voice filled the Commander's ear.

"Gibbs…."

"Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs? This is Commander Harmon Rabb, JAG Corps."

Gibbs standing in the hallway outside MTAC smiled into his receiver. "Commander, we've played this game before; I'm not in the service anymore. Still trying to run the show, are you?" He took a sip from his ever present coffee cup.

Harm sighed. He deserved that for sounding so pompous. "Agent Gibbs, I need your help…."

The Special Agent's voice became as hard as granite. "And why should I help you Commander?"

Harm initially wanted to be friendly to this man since he was responsible for getting him cleared of charges that he had murdered Lieutenant Singer but the man's hostile attitude overrode the Commander's urge to be nice.

"Because if you don't a pair of innocent men are going to be tried and sentenced for murder due to sloppy investigative techniques."

"Whose sloppy investigative techniques?" Gibbs demanded. Now the Commander had his full attention.

"The NCIS field agent who investigated the death of combat engineer Phillip M. Dodge, 36th MEU. I have reason to believe he may be involved in a cover-up to throw us off the scent of the real killer."

The silver-haired NCIS Senior Agent had heard a lot about this case and the fact that a NCIS field agent out of Baghdad might be involved in a cover-up of some sort blew away any lingering animosity he had toward this JAG hot shot.

"His name is Sedrick Phillips, Commander, I'll have him report to you."

"Thank you for your cooperation, Special Agent Gibbs,"

"And Commander, I want to talk to him as well."

"I'll send him on the next flight to the U.S., Gibbs."

"That won't be necessary, Commander because I'll be there, so you can just turn him over to me when you're done."

Tom Morrow's smile was growing strained. "I think we can do that Admiral."

AJ's smile grew wider. "Good. I also want Commander Coleman to go with Special Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo."

As far as the NCIS Director was concerned, the JAG had pushed his luck too far. "I don't think we can let our JAG liaison go on a mission like this, Admiral."

"Sir my people are combat trained and Lieutenant Commander Coleman has worked well with your team in the past. I'm sure she'd find the field experience…beneficial." AJ's smile could almost be interpreted as wicked. The smile disappeared as he continued to press his argument for including a JAG presence in the NCIS investigation. "More importantly Mr. Director, we started this and we want to finish it. I want to nail these traitors."

Tom Morrow thought about how he would feel if he were in the Admiral's place – probably exactly the same way.

"You know Admiral, normally I would argue this point, saying you're too emotionally involved, but I can understand where you are coming from and it just so happens that I'm short on agents right now. You do understand though that she will be under Special Agent Gibbs' command and expected to follow his orders…."

AJ smiled again. He understood what the man was saying. "That won't be a problem, Mr. Director."

Now Tom Morrow was smiling. "Then it's settled. Admiral, we want to help you find who's responsible for this."

"I understand Mr. Director and we appreciate the help."

"I'll contact Agent Gibbs and have his team on the next flight to Mirbullah."

Faith Coleman was sitting at her desk in the NCIS-JAG Liaison Office carefully re-reading her client's deposition for the sixth time.

She wanted to be sure she had all the details about her client's testimony. She started to make a note when she noticed the pencil she had picked up from the cup on her desk had a dull point. She got up from her seat to sharpen the offending pencil when her phone began to ring.

She debated internally on whether or not to answer it. She needed to get this pencil sharpened but that telephone call might be someone important.

Jack McBurney seated on the other side of her neat and perfectly aligned cubicle, stood up and looked at her.

"Aren't you going to answer that?" he asked.

"Did you use one of my pencils?" she said pointedly, ignoring the ringing phone.

"I think you'd better answer that," he said side stepping the question. Of course he had used it. After all, they shared this office. He thought it might not hurt just this once to use one of her many razor sharp pencils for jotting down a quick set of notes about a case.

"Did you use one of my pencils?" she repeated. The telephone continued to ring.

Jack sighed heavily, raising his hands in surrender "Yes, yes, yes, I used one of your precious pencils! Now will you answer your phone?"

Faith hissed disgustedly at her partner. Why in the world Admiral Chegwidden had assigned both of them as liaisons to NCIS, she would never understand. Maybe it was punishment for their handling of Commander Rabb's case….

Brushing that irritating thought aside, she picked up the receiver and punched the blinking line. "Lieutenant Commander Coleman, NCIS Liaison-"

"Commander? Where the devil have you been?"

"Admiral Chegwidden!" she gasped.

Jack smiled at her discomfort; at least it got him off the hook temporarily. Faith, despite her embarrassment at keeping the Admiral waiting, shot the smiling Major a baleful look.

Jack's smile evaporated. He knew she was going to chew on him when she got off the phone.

She continued to keep her eyes on Jack as she skillfully maneuvered around her faux pas. "My apologies Admiral, Major McBurney insisted we talk to Special Agent DiNozzo regarding his testimony in Seaman Burkoff's trial,"

She gave the Major a sinister smile. "Yes sir, I'll be sure to tell him that was a waste of invaluable time."

Jack wanted to grab the phone from her but knew this was her revenge for using her pencil.

"Yes sir…Mirbullah? Yes, I'm familiar with the case…TAD to Iraq sir? With Special Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo sir? …no sir, not at all. Thank you Admiral. Goodbye sir."

Jack moved closer to her as she placed the receiver on its cradle.

"Well?" he prompted.

"I've been assigned to assist Special Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo with their investigation of the attack on JAG Headquarters." She said as if explaining something quite obvious to a dullard.

He ignored the barb. "So what was the reference to Iraq about?"

She reached under her desk for her briefcase. "It is believed those involved in the attack came from Mirbullah."

Jack sat down on the edge of her desk. "Isn't that the same town where Commander Rabb and his team are conducting a court martial?"

She ignored the fact that he was sitting her desk. She set the briefcase beside him and opened it. "Yes, it seems the Admiral and Director Morrow feel there is a connection between the terrorists attack and this court martial." Faith picked up her pencils and snapped open a compartment in her briefcase and carefully placed them inside one by one. "I don't know how long I'll be away but *do not* use my desk while I'm *gone*, Major."

1223 Zulu

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

AJ Chegwidden was going over the list of what he needed to have done for the next few days while he was gone. Mattoni and Clemons could talk with the Detailers about getting Permanent Change of Station [PCS] folks settled into the Washington, DC area. Burford could handle getting the TAD people on board as quickly as possible. He'd have Sims work with him on that. She's good at organizing arrangements.

He smirked to himself, not as good as he was though, remembering how she had conned him into arranging Mac and Mic's engagement party.

He made a note to check with Galindez's Detailer to see if he could get the Gunnery Sergeant TAD to JAG. They could sure use his help.

Lieutenant Sims appeared at his door. "Admiral?"

He looked up from his paperwork at her over his reading glasses. "Yes Lieutenant?"

"The Army's Judge Advocate General is on line two, sir."

(The intercom system must have failed,) was his disgusted assessment. "Put him through Lieutenant."

She nodded. "Aye sir," She turned and walked back to Tiner's desk.

When the button lit on his phone, he punched the line as he picked up the receiver.

"Admiral Chegwidden,"

"How are you doing AJ?"

The Navy JAG smiled. "Good morning Bill. I'm doing as well as can be expected right now."

He and Bill Davidson went way back. He had met Bill on weekend pass in Da Nang. Not exactly Tokyo, but it was the best his CO could do at the time. SEAL Team Three would be participating in another sweep on Mekong Delta the following week, so he couldn't let AJ get too far out of reach.

He bumped into Bill literally as they both took cover under a table in a bar during a Viet Cong rocket attack. Bill at the time was with 1st Air Cavalry as a gunship door gunner and they had just completed a sweep through the A Shau valley.

Once the rocket attack was over they shared a few beers. Well really, AJ forgot how many they actually had. He and Bill stayed in touch as they rose through the ranks, but neither had ever thought that one day they would be the top military legal weenies.

"I understand. I called to tell you I'm sending some office equipment your way as well as two of my staff TDY. They'll help set up the equipment and assist with any telecom or computer problems that might arise."

There's nothing like good friends to put you into a better frame of mind. "That's great Bill."

"The Secretary also approved me sending a company of my MPs to help secure your headquarters' perimeter. They should be there within the hour. They'll help out until the new members of your security company are in place."

The Navy JAG chuckled and shook his head. "Bill are you sure you aren't just trying to horn in on a Navy-Marine operation? Grab some of the glory for yourself?"

His old friend's voice turned cold. "Are you accusing me of turning this into a PR campaign for the Army?"

AJ's voice was just as cold. "Yes Bill, I am."

Both men laughed heartily.

"Guilty as charged old buddy," said the Army JAG, his voice still ringing with merriment. "Nice to see you haven't lost your sense of humor."

AJ's smile wasn't as radiant. "It's what keeps us going through the dark times, Bill."

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs came down the stairs from MTAC and headed toward the bullpen

Tony DiNozzo could see the senior NCIS Agent was making a beeline for his desk.

"Grab your gear," Gibbs said tersely.

"What's up boss?" The former Baltimore detective wondered why Gibbs looked so aggravated.

"We're headed to Iraq-"

"Iraq, Boss?" he repeated stupidly.

"Yes Tony, Iraq. Commander Rabb has turned up a problem with our field agent in Baghdad."

Tony knew immediately what Gibbs was talking about. "Ole Sedrick?" He replied smiling that rascal smile of his. "What'd Sedgie do, jaywalk in front of the Commander?"

The lead NCIS Agent turned and pierced DiNozzo's jovial attitude with a harsh stare. "He betrayed his country, DiNozzo."

Tony's eyes flew open as he shook his head vigorously. "What? No way Boss! Not Sedgie! C'mon Gibbs, this guy Rabb is nuts! Sedrick is as straight as they come!"

"Someone got to him Tony," Gibbs said with uncharacteristic softness "Offered him a lot of money to look the other way during a JAGMan investigation."

"Which JAGMan investigation?"

"The first one to look into the cause of Combat Engineer Lieutenant Philip Dodge's death."

Tony knew that both JAG and NCIS were still feeling the effects of that debacle. Three fast rising junior officers had skewered their careers trying to fabricate evidence against the Cobra gunship crew that had allegedly killed Lieutenant Dodge.

The circumstantial evidence had pointed to the gunship crew, but the JAGs from Bahrain had decided more substantive proof was needed, so incredibly, they made it up. NCIS Senior Field Agent Sedrick Phillips knew something was rotten about this sudden wealth of solid facts, so he started digging and uncovered the truth.

Now a murky case became even murkier with the supposed hero turning out to be just as dirty as the people he had caught.

"So what are we gonna do Boss?"

"We're getting on the next flight to Baghdad."

-TBC…


	44. Chapter 43

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 43

Batchelor Officer Quarters [BOQ]

Camp Chesty Puller

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Bud sat on his bed, reviewing Commander Lexington's report on her subordinate JAGC officers. The head of Bahrain's NLSO Branch Office had included fitness reports, commendations, and other material that she hoped would mitigate their actions.

The more the former Seahawk public relations officer, now up-and-coming JAGC officer scrutinized the wealth of material Lexington had provided, the more the three JAGC officers actions' didn't make sense.

Why had these three done this?

Psychological evaluations indicated they were somewhat stressed, but considering the circumstances that was normal – or was it? Bud went back to their hearing transcripts.

"Oh my gosh!" Lieutenant Roberts said, his eyes bulging in disbelief, "Why the heck didn't I see that before?"

The obvious answer to Bud's rhetorical question was that he and the rest of the JAGs had had little time for anything else other than the hearing and trial for FIREFLY ONE's crew.

He put their psych evals side by side with the statements they gave at their hearings. It was like reading Morse code.

"They were being coerced," realization was evident in the young JAG Corps attorney's voice. Bud pulled up the three confessions from the time of their arrests.

His personal revelation was interrupted by someone knocking on his door. Bud minimized all the files on his laptop screen.

"Who is it?" he asked setting his laptop on the bed.

"It's me Lieutenant," came back the stentorian voice of Sturgis Turner. "Is it all right if I come in?"

Bud looked back at the minimized icons on his screen. (Inadmissible evidence,) he thought glumly before turning back to the door, (Not applicable to this trial.) Still, he had to try to find a way to let Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie know about what he had discovered.

"Sure sir," he said as he got off his bed. "Come in."

The former Dolphin opened the door slowly and seemed to hesitate about coming inside. "I'm not interrupting anything am I?"

Bud shook his head "No sir, nothing at all," he lied, "Uh, just reviewing evidence for the start of the trial tomorrow morning."

Sturgis nodded his head. "I see…Lieutenant, um...Bud…," It was obvious the Bubblehead wanted to say something to the junior officer. Something he wasn't quite comfortable talking about.

Bud decided to make it easy for him. "Sir, before you say anything, I just want you to know how sorry I am for the things I said to you last night. "It was wrong of me to make such a snap judgment and my actions were completely unprofessional."

Sturgis Turner gave the younger man a dry smile and clapped him on the shoulder. "Apology accepted Bud, but I feel that I owe you one as well…."

"Sir?"

"I'm anxious to win this case, Bud," Sturgis explained soberly. "I let my drive to win color my judgment of you, Harm, Mac and your emotional states last night. I guess, in a way, I was trying to escape my own emotional turmoil about what happened by focusing on the case."

Bud could see that it was truly humbling to this man to have to admit this. "I should have been more concerned about my co-workers…my friends."

Bud gave him a sympathetic smile. "That doesn't excuse my comments to you sir." he said, "I'm very sorry sir, I—I just lost my head…."

"It's okay Lieutenant, we all say or do things in the heat of the moment that we don't really mean…." Sturgis wondered if what he was saying also applied to what he'd said to Mac? After all, despite the closeness of Harm and Mac on this investigation, maybe they were just good friends – despite the mixed signals and Mac's own Freudian slip when they had worked on Commander Aiken's murder investigation. Maybe they just had a really good working relationship. It wasn't unheard of. He would have to find a way to apologize to both of them.

"I just wish you could forgive me for what happened at the Board hearing…." Bud said almost wistfully.

Sturgis focused on the Lieutenant's uncomfortable look. Maybe it was time to bury the hatchet on that one. The former submariner gave the man a wan smile. "As I told you earlier, Bud, time heals all wounds."

Lieutenant Roberts thought this was the Commander's way of putting him off again as he done several times now. "Sir, it's been nearly two months…."

"I know Lieutenant, I'm just having a hard time…I couldn't …." In way, Bud had been right.

Bud decided forgiveness would begin with him. Sure Sturgis had a hard time forgiving him, at least he admitted to that. In Lieutenant's eyes, that was a start.

"I know sir, neither could I," Bud said sympathetically, "I – I just blanked and then I remembered what Tiner had said in the mock trial and it just came out."

Sturgis gave the man a wry look. "Do me a favor Lieutenant,"

"Yes sir?"

"The next time you blank out, don't use any advice or ideas that the Petty Officer gives to you.

Bud nodded his head solemnly. "Understood sir."

Mac was thinking about Harm and what had happened this morning. It was like the old good news/bad news joke – 'I made love to the man of my dreams…now what do I do?'

(We sure can't go back to the ole 'do we or don't we' dance….) she reasoned, (What's he going to expect of me? Do I have to give up my career? Am I ready to be the dutiful little housewife, raising 2.5 kids and baking cookies?)

The more Mac the Marine thought about it, giving in to 'the heat of the moment' may have complicated their lives exponentially.

Harm was watching Mac reading through a legal brief

(Well Hammer,) he mused, (you finally did it. You finally made love to the one woman who has turned your life upside down since she came to JAG Corps Headquarters….)

He loved looking at her soft curves, that sexy face, those gorgeous chocolate brown bottomless eyes of hers – so why didn't he feel happier?

(Why? C'mon Hammer, snap out of it….) he ordered, trying to get his mind off this troubling subject.

But the question was still there. 'Now what?'. Should they take it slow? Should he just cut to the chase and propose to her? Should they just go UA and elope?

Harm shook his head. (Okay Hammer, that was a stupid thought….)

So what was he going to do? And what was bothering him so about what happened?

Maybe it was the way they just fell into it, was it just that they took needing comfort to the next level? Was that all it was? He certainly hoped not. Was Mac really looking for a long term commitment?

And then there was the question of their careers; that 500 pound gorilla had suddenly re-appeared and was beating his chest ominously. Could he really ask Mac to give up her career? And what about his? What if they decided he had to give up the Navy? Could he really give up being a JAG Corps lawyer and getting the chance to fly fighter planes? Maybe one of them could just leave JAG Corps Headquarters…transfer to another post…but that presented it's own set of problems. For instance was either one really ready to leave JAG Headquarters? Sure, they had been there…what eight, nine years? Wow, he hadn't realized it had been that long….

Harm didn't know the answer to this myriad of troubling questions. He'd have to talk them over with…. Harm felt a pair of eyes looking at him.

Lifting his eyes from the witness testimony he was reading, he saw Mac staring at him with those expressive, inquisitive eyes of hers.

Harm sighed.

"We need to talk," they both said simultaneously.

The urgency in their voices was shattered by this comical interlude.

Harm smiled sheepishly. "You first,"

Mac gave him her own embarrassed smile. "No you,"

"Well, I just wanted you to know…."

"That you care a great deal for me?"

He gave her a gentle smile "I do Mac; you're my best friend."

The beautiful Marine couldn't believe what she was hearing

"Just your 'best friend'?" she probed. This is not what a woman wants to hear after making love to the man of her dreams.

Harm looked down at the bed, not wanting to look into those bottomless brown eyes of hers for fear of becoming lost in them.

"Well, you're a pretty good lover too, you know," As he finished feebly, unsure what she was asking of him. He wanted her to know how he truly felt, so he looked into her eyes trying to communicate how he felt.

Mac saw the stormy look in those hard-to-read blue eyes of his. She knew what he wanted to say. Inside, her heart was shattering, but she decided bursting into tears was not very Marine-like.

(C'mon MacKenzie,) she chided, (tough it out, you've been hurt worse…)

Or had she? Right now she had to focus all her energy on not giving in to that sarcastic inner voice of hers.

"Just pretty good?" she said glibly with a fake smile as she teased him, trying to break the tension that was building.

Harm could tell that he'd made a mistake somehow; he just didn't know how bad a mistake it was. Trying to think fast aviator/attorney thought humor might help. "Maaac," he groaned playfully.

She moved closer to him. "So what did you want me to know, Harm?"

She hoped he couldn't hear the apprehension in her voice. She knew there was something more he wanted to say and she prayed it wasn't as devastating as what he had just told her.

Harm meanwhile was having his own inner conflict

(You lose control in my world, you die...) Those words floated back into his mind from a conversation they had a long time ago. (C'mon Hammer, keep it together….)

"Harm?"

He could see a look of dread and anguish flit through her smile. The tall Naval Commander vowed this was one time his fumbling verbal skills with pretty women was not going to be his undoing.

"Mac, I'm sorry-"

Fear leapt up in the back of Mac's throat (He's sorry? Oh God, he's backing away, I can't let him do this to me again!)

She moved even closer. Her smile had disappeared, replaced by a guarded look. She pulled back, putting some notable distance between them

"Sorry for what?" her voice was ice cold.

Harm realized the 'ohno second' had just passed and once again he'd managed to shove his size thirteen combat boots into his mouth. (Dammit!) "No, Mac, I'm not sorry for anything bad…."

That only made it worse.

She shook her head in confusion, her frustration showing through. "Harm," she ground out, "You're not making any sense…." She got up off the bed and walked over to the window.

Harm ran his hand through his short cropped black hair. "Can I start over?" he pleaded. "A 'do over'? Please?"

She closed her eyes and hugged herself, not saying anything for a long moment. She sighed and turned to face him. Searching his face and seeing that he was serious, she nodded.

"Okay," she said slowly, unsure about where this was going. She cautiously walked back toward the bed. This afternoon had started out so well and now here they were right back at square one, again. Mac wanted to scream.

Harm looked down at the bed and then back at her. "Mac this is really difficult for me because I've never met anyone quite like you…or felt about anyone the same way I feel about you."

That last comment almost made her drop her defenses, but the Marine light Colonel was determined to say something to keep him from going any further. If they weren't going to pursue this, she wanted a clean break so they could get on with their business. But before she could, he plunged ahead.

"…I want you to know I love you for who you are and I'm sorry I couldn't make a commitment in Sydney."

Mac closed her eyes. Sydney; that brought back a flood of memories in her mind, both good and bad. But she had heard him. He wasn't backing away from her. So what was he trying to say to her?

"Go on," she urged him as she sat down next to him. She gently took his hand in hers.

He nodded. "I, uh, don't want you to have to sacrifice your career, and I'll understand if you want to walk away."

If a man ever deserved a kiss it was Harm. He was such a boy scout…no, more like the Lone Ranger. All 'yes ma'am' and 'thank you ma'am' and 'just doing my job ma'am' So adorable and yet so infuriating. Ever the gentleman…'you can walk away from this relationship if you want'…maybe kissing him senseless would help wake him up to how she really felt…. "Harm-"

"Mac, let me finish, please? This is hard enough as it is."

In all her inner discussions, she hadn't thought that maybe Harm was really trying to say something to her that was really important to him. God, they'd almost managed to blow it again. With her leading the charge this time. No doubt about it; verbal miscommunication was their forte. This had to stop before they both wound up in the loony bin.

She nodded silently, willing him to continue.

"As I said, if you, um, want to, ah, walk away, I understand. But if you can, I'd like to continue this relationship we've started." His baby blues were boring into her soul, melting her heart and sending a skittery feeling jumping through her stomach. "I don't want to lose you now."

Harm had done it again, completely knocked her off balance. She was having trouble breathing (He wants the relationship to continue!) A relationship she had dreamed about for years. Mac felt like getting up on a chair and singing 'I could have danced all night'.

"Uh Mac?"

Harm had a puzzled look on his face. Mac felt her face becoming flushed. (Back to reality MacKenzie).

"Um, my turn?" she said quietly.

Harm nodded. He was really worried he had messed this up beyond all recognition this time. He'd be lucky if he left this room with both legs unbroken.

"Harm," she squeezed his hand indicating reassurance, "you aren't going to lose me, in fact I'd like to see you try to lose me now."

He smiled at that comment. Maybe things were going to work out after all….

Now she dropped her bombshell. "But I'm not going to stand in the way of your career, so if you want to walk away, I'll understand."

Harm couldn't love her any more than he did at this moment. "Mac,"

She had been looking down at the bed spread, but now she looked directly at him, anguished. "Harm, you almost lost yours once, thanks to me."

"Mac," his voice was gentle.

The Marine attorney was determined to say her piece. "Harm, I love you, but I won't be the reason you leave the Navy…."

Now it was his turn to squeeze her hand. "You won't be Mac," he promised her.

"I won't?" Just when she thought he had him figured out.

"No Mac, I'll leave because I want to. But that doesn't mean right now, it may not mean until retirement, but when the time comes, I'll know…."

Mac understood what he was saying to her. It was typical Harmon Rabb-speak, but this time she finally felt she understood.

"Okay Harm, let me see if I have this straight…."

"All right…."

"You want a relationship with me…."

"Yes…."

"And you're staying in the Navy…."

"Yes…."

"Are you staying at JAG…?"

"That depends on the Admiral…."

"But you won't stand in the way of my career regardless…."

"Never Mac; just like you won't stand in the way of mine…."

"Even if it means one of us has to give up our career…or transfer out of JAG?"

That had always been the deal-breaker before; would it be now?

Not this time. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it, Mac…."

"You want to make this work…?"

"I'd be a fool not to Mac…how do you feel about making it work?"

Now the ball was in her court. She heaved a relieved sigh. "I want to make it work too, Harm."

Harm let out his breath that he had been unknowingly holding. "Okay," he said wryly, "That wasn't so hard…."

That brought a chuckle from the light Colonel, relieving the tension.

He squeezed her hand. "I'm glad, Marine."

Mac broke into a broad grin. "Me too Sailor," then her mood sobered "but we still have some problems to resolve…." She got up and walked over to her desk.

"What kind of problems?' he ventured cautiously as he stood up and crossed over to her. Images of their heated discussions on the Watertown about their relationship floated to the front of his mind.

"What do we tell the others?"

"The others…." He repeated, not having a clue what she was talking about.

She looked up and gave him an amused grin. "Everyone else," she elaborated for him. "You know, Bud, your mother, the Admiral, Tiner…."

He quickly picked up on what she was saying.

"Harriet." He added.

"Sturgis," They both said at the same time. Mac was right. There was a lot more here to discuss.

Harm was silent for a moment.

"Truthfully Mac, unless they really need to know, I'm in favor of 'don't ask, don't tell.'"

She couldn't believe he was saying this. "You mean, it's none of their business…?"

He was serious. "Right. Unless they really need to know…."

She got an impish grin on her face as she put her arms around him. "…like the Admiral, for instance?"

Harm looked perturbed for a moment. "Exactly," he said blandly trying to ignore the heat of her body as it seeped into his skin.

Mac got a thoughtful look on her face. "Well with most people, that would work fine…."

Harm gave her an annoyed look. "I hear a 'but' in there MacKenzie."

She began to straighten and tug at his shirt as he continued to hold her. "Well yeah, *but* what about Harriet and Sturgis?"

Harm nodded. "Sturgis could be a problem," he admitted.

"Duh huh," Mac said drolly.

Now Harm got a devilish grin on his face. "Coates could be a problem too, you know." he added.

"I know," Mac said ruefully.

"I'll talk with Sturgis if it becomes necessary," Harm said as if volunteering for a dangerous mission.

Two could play that game. "Okay, then I'll talk to Harriet."

"What about Bud?" Harm wondered aloud.

Mac locked eyes with the gorgeous Commander. "Harm, I think you should tell him. After all, you and he have been together for a long time…."

"But he listens better to you, Mac." Harm bargained.

Her grin got wider. "Sorry Flyboy, he was your friend first."

Harm held up his hands in supplication as she held onto him. "Okay, fine, I'll talk to him."

They both chuckled for a moment at their predicament – one that was much different from the ones they usually faced.

"You know I never thought having a relationship with you would be this complicated," Harm said glibly, "Is this what it's like having you as a girlfriend?"

She gave him another teasing smirk. "Yup. Are you regretting it, Sailor?"

He returned her playful smile. "Not for a moment, Marine."

The world stood still as Harmon Rabb gave Sarah MacKenzie a very passionate kiss.

As they continued their kiss both thought 'now it's us against the world and maybe…just maybe they finally beat this curse that had been plaguing them for so long.

When Harm pulled away enough to look into her eyes, Mac pulled out of his arms, and looked back over her shoulder at him with a playful look. "Then we'd better get started planning how to talk to them…just in case because tomorrow we'll be knee-deep in court martial proceedings."

Jennifer Coates opened her eyes and looked around the room.

An Arabic man in a white overcoat with a clipboard stood at the foot of her bed studying her chart. Hearing her weak moan he looked over the top of the board at her.

"Good evening Petty Officer, how are you feeling?"

Jen started at first when she looked at him but then relaxed a little as she looked around the room. "Um, pretty messed up sir," she replied honestly. "Where am I?"

"You're at Bethesda Naval Hospital in Bethesda, Maryland." He gave her a long look and then remembered what she had just been through. "I'm Doctor Hamid al-Fahri, but you can call me 'Doctor Ham'," he said with a disarming smile.

She gave him a wan smile in return.

"Do you remember what happened and how you got here?"

Jennifer nodded, trying to get more comfortable in the bed. "I was shot…in a gun battle…uh…a shoot out with Arab…."

"…terrorists," he finished for her while nodding approval at her recall, "You were actually shot several times."

Jennifer looked at the heavy casts on her right arm and on her elevated left leg. "Yeah, I was," she grimly agreed.

"We moved you from the ICU this afternoon when your condition stabilized."

Al-Farhi stopped writing in her chart and gave her a scolding look. The doctor obviously thought having a shoot out with heavily armed terrorists was a bad idea. "You're lucky to be alive." He went back to writing.

"I know," she said somewhat embarrassed. Then another thought hit her. "Sir, the Petty Officer I was brought in with…is he…is he okay?"

The doctor stopped writing on her chart again but this time he gave her a knowing smile.

"Is he a friend of yours?"

Despite her injuries, Jen felt herself blush. "You might say that, sir." she said quietly.

-TBC…


	45. Chapter 44

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 44

Bachelor Officer Quarters [BOQ]

Camp Chesty Puller

"Besides the mutual apologies, I came by to check and see if you had called your wife, Lieutenant."

"Uh, no sir," Bud said uncomfortably. "I figured that 'confined to quarters' meant no communication with the outside world."

"Bud," said the former Dolphin in a paternal manner, "Call your wife."

"Aye sir," came back the smart reply. Bud couldn't help but grin.

Sturgis gave him a friendly but weary smirk. "I'll see you in the morning, Lieutenant."

"Yes sir."

"And Bud,"

"Yes Commander?"

"I'm not filing charges."

The former Seahawk PR officer beamed. "Thank you sir!"

"I'll put in a good word with Judge Blakely," he looked around the room, "You need to get out of here for awhile, stretch your legs."

"I appreciate that sir, thank you." As Sturgis turned to leave, Bud picked up his cell phone and began dialing his wife.

"Sir, the Judge Advocate General of the Air Force is on line three…."

AJ Chegwidden looked up from his paperwork at Harriet. "Send'em through Lieutenant."

"Aye sir," Harriet said swiftly before she did a quick about face and headed back to her desk.

AJ picked up the buzzing line. "Ron, how the hell are you?" AJ said jovially.

The Air Force JAG's voice was just as cheerful. "Pretty good AJ…I was more worried about how you're doing…."

"Well I'm alive, but the bastards trashed my command."

"So I heard; sorry I couldn't be there to help."

AJ smiled. Ron had always had a soft spot for AJ. "I know that if you could have been here you would have been, Ron. Thanks for the thought."

Sometimes I wish we could do more than some of our 'lawn darts' out to fly combat air patrols' after the fact, AJ."

The Navy-Marine JAG understood his sentiment. Flying F-16s on CAP after a terrorist attack while serving a necessary function did seem a little impotent. "I may have a solution for that, Ron. Bill told me that the documents my legalmen found are going to be used in a region-wide sweep."

"Whatever you need AJ, just say the word."

"Permission for predator drones and observation aircraft to overfly civilian areas-"

Ron didn't let him finish. "Done. I'll be on the phone with FAA and the local law enforcement agencies as soon as I'm done. Do you really think we have a chance to knock out their operational bases here?"

"If we don't knock it out completely, we will deal it a mortal blow. NCIS and the FBI have located at least 50 safe houses, arms caches and other terrorist cell infrastructure thanks to those documents. We're going to catch these slugs with their pants down for a change."

"We could sure use a victory at this point,"

"Agreed. You got any other good news for me, Ron?"

"Thought you'd never ask; I'm sending you two of my top attorneys, TDY. Use'em where you need them."

Thanks Ron, you and Bill have been a big help."

AJ could almost hear Ron's chest bursting with pride. "It's the least we could do, AJ…." After a pause his voice took on a more impish tone. "Say AJ, how is Rabb doing? I heard he's defending that Marine gunship crew…."

The Marine-Navy JAG's tone soured slightly. "He is."

"I take it he's doing his usual best?" said the AF JAG egging him on.

AJ smiled sardonically. "If by that you mean twisting the convening authority into knots over the case, then yes."

"But you wouldn't have it any other way…you know, if you ever decide to fire him again, send'em my way. The Air Force could use a pilot like him."

AJ broke into a genuine smile this time. "Nah, Rabb's too good at keeping everyone on the balls of their feet. I'm gonna keep'em."

"AJ, you haven't changed a bit..."

Admiral Chegwidden leaned back in his chair "Let's just say old habits die hard, Ron…you know how I like to shake things up…."

Camp Chesty Puller

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Lieutenant Colonel Darcy Livingston was going over Colonel Briggs' orders again. She wanted to make sure she followed them to the letter. She wanted to make sure her efforts to find the terrorists and their Iraqi Fedayeen supporters looked genuine.

She only looked up for a moment when Captain Jac Lewis stormed into her office.

"That Navy ex-Tomcat pilot has got to go, Darcy!" he said slamming her down and smashing his fists down on her desk for emphasis "That nosey Topgun is going to expose our whole operation!"

Darcy set her papers down on the desk with a slap. "And who's fault is that Captain? I believe you were the one cher, who told me you would take care of Dodge."

Jac gave the acting Force Recon commander an angry look. "Now wait just a damn minute lady, I did take care of him!"

Darcy moved menacingly closer to him. "Ah yes, that's right cher, you did by pinning it on those two redneck helo pilots!" she said with mock understanding and awe. "How could I forget such cleverness?" Her eyes glinted dangerously.

Jac was not buffaloed by her 'snake charmer' act. "Trust me lady, it'll work. We just have to get that nosey Rabb off the case."

She stood up and walked around to his side of the desk. "And just how do you propose 'we' do that?"

The Marine Captain was hoping she was going to ask him that. "Get Briggs to pull him off. Rabb is irritating the Judge, his co-counsel, and Briggs. That alone ought to be enough for the JAG to pull him off – just like we had to do with that last group of investigators from Bahrain."

Darcy gave him a malevolent smile. "Jacques, cher, you may have a bright idea after all. I misjudged you. That attorney and his partner MacKenzie may be our key to ending this problem once and for all."

Jacques Lewis didn't understand. He thought that Rabb was the problem. "The lady Lieutenant Colonel from JAG Corps HQ? What's she got to do with this?"

Darcy gave him a patient paternal smile. "Isn't it obvious, Jac?" He shook his head no. She wondered sometimes how he could be so clever and so dense at the same time. "The Commander and the Colonel, they're in love with each other…they just can't let it be public. The scandal would sink the JAG, not to mention their fast track careers…."

She had not shown the Captain yet, but she had a purloined copy of a certain ambitious Commander's report of his 'audit' of JAG Headquarters and its personnel – it told some very interesting and juicy details about the JAG and his staff. It wouldn't take much to upset that shaky house of cards—after all they were still reeling from that terrorist attack ordered by Samir al-Sahood….

Jac's smile would have frightened any sane person. "Lady, I like the way you think."

She patted him reassuringly on the arm. "Cher, that's why we make such a great team. You go talk with al-Sahood and let him know that the operation is still on and I'll go get Briggs to 'ground' the good Commander."

Captain Lewis nodded and exited her office. Darcy walked back over to her desk and looked at her operational orders and reviewed her Table of Organization and Equipment. Thanks to this flu bug going around and a few unfortunate 'live fire' training accidents, she was short the loyal command staff she needed to successfully carry out her mission with Sahood.

She read the JAG audit report again. '…a former alcoholic, Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, USMC, was recently named acting Chief of Staff by The JAG, Admiral A.J. Chegwidden. Colonel MacKenzie has, in the past, been involved in several questionable situations involving sexual misconduct. Colonel MacKenzie has also been accused of murder in connection with the death of her husband, Christopher Rangle. Though she was cleared of the murder charge, she perjured herself while under oath during that trial resulting in her missing her original promotion date to Lieutenant Colonel as the result of Admiral's Mast. Admiral Chegwidden later rewarded her supposedly improved performance of her duties by promoting her to Lieutenant Colonel. This was done despite the fact the Colonel MacKenzie had harbored fugitives wanted by the law and committed other glaring errors of judgment. Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie has continued her pattern of reckless behavior and poor judgment which culminated in a recent un-supervised TAD in Afghanistan with a member of the opposite sex from JAG Corps Headquarters. …'

(Oh Sarah, you've been a bad, bad girl….) Darcy chuckled to herself as she continued to read Lieutenant Commander Theodore Lindsey's scathing report about her. (So now you've set your sights on Navy poster boy Harmon Rabb? Well cher, maybe I can offer you something that you want more. And if not, I can always take your aviator-lawyer friend away. I'm sure that threat would make you want to help me….)

Darcy chuckled malevolently as she opened her secure laptop. There was one more document she needed if she was going to recruit Sarah MacKenzie.

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

"Harriet?"

"Bud!" she cried as she clutched the receiver. "Oh Bud, it's so good to hear your voice!"

The tremor in her voice made Bud want to leap through the receiver and hold her. "Harriet? Harriet, are you all right? Is the baby okay?"

Hearing her husband's voice, though it was frantic and strained at the moment, made her feel much better. Several people in the bullpen quietly excused themselves. Normally Harriet Sims would not have behaved this way in front of her co-workers, but after what had happened, all of them had lowered their personal shields.

"I'm fine and the baby's all right. Bud, I was so scared-"

"How bad was it honey?" The genuine concern in his voice warmed her heart. God, she loved this man, now more than ever.

"They killed several people in JAG Operations," she reported in quiet sad voice.

"Who?" Bud knew there had been deaths, but he hadn't figured anyone in JAG Ops had had actually been killed. He braced himself for her news.

"Ensign Ralston; you know, she was the one who was planning her wedding for September, and Seaman Burns-"

"The one that made a pass at you?" Bud's jealously was clearly evident and he regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. How could he feel resentful toward a dead man?

She ignored the comment, as the words tumbled out of her mouth. "Yes, oh, Bud, it was so awful…Tiner and Coates were shot trying to keep the terrorists out of the JAG Headquarters parking lot-"

Jealously was forgotten. Now all Bud Roberts wanted to do was comfort his badly shaken wife. "It's okay, honey, I'm here, it's going to be all right-"

He had to fight though, to keep his own sense of calm. A gunfight with terrorists at the front gate of JAG Headquarters? Tiner and Jennifer shot in the gun battle? How did this all happen?

Bud's own questions were silenced when his wife snapped at him.

"No, you aren't Bud!" Harriet was close to being hysterical. It was the first time Harriet had let herself go since the attack took place. "And it isn't going to be 'all right'! They shot Gunny Brewster to death on the south stairwell, and Captain Jimenez was killed in his car-!"

"They got inside the building?" Now Bud's sense of composure was beginning to slip.

Harriet, in the meantime, had regained some of hers. "No, Victor and Gunny Brewster stopped them in the stairwell…only Victor survived."

Brewster and Gunny were involved in the gunfight too? What the hell had happened back there? Had the whole world gone insane?

"Was he hurt?" Bud needed to know that at least one of his friends back at JAG Ops was okay.

The young Lieutenant could hear her grimace through the line. "He was wounded, but stubborn mule that he is, he refused treatment until the Admiral ordered him to get his wounds bandaged."

Now the investigator in Bud Roberts took over. It had to. It was the only way he could keep his emotions from going overboard. "How many were there?"

Harriet immediately recognized the sternness in his voice and reverted to military discipline. "NCIS and the JAG Corps Security company determined there were at least 50 to 75 terrorists involved in the attack and subsequent ambushes around Falls Church..."

Later she would admonish Bud for treating her like a suspect, but at the moment military discipline was the only thing keeping this scene from becoming any more emotional than it already was.

To hell with Iraq and this crazy trial. His wife needed him. "I'm coming home Harriet."

Part of Harriet wanted him to, but the fiercely independent military officer knew he couldn't.

"No, Bud. No, you can't do that."

Lieutenant Roberts laid down his case with a very convincing argument. "Honey, the military installation where we work was attacked by terrorists!" Bud said stridently. "You could have been wounded or worse-"

But Harriet Beaumont Sims recognized that they both had a job do and his being here wouldn't have made any difference. No matter how comforting his logical words sounded to her right now. They were soldiers in the United States military, and they both had a job to do.

"No, Bud." She said firmly, "You need to do your job in Mirbullah…."

Bud couldn't believe she was saying this. "But, Harriet-"

"Gunny's going to be staying at the house for a few days until his transfer orders come through. He and I will be riding to and from work together." She thought she did a very good job of sounding calm and rational.

Bud ignored her ploy, and instead focused on this new bit of information she had just given him in a phone call full of startling revelations.

"Transfer orders? Gunny? Where is he going?"

"He's being shipped out again in a week or so, he doesn't know where."

Now Bud was convinced. It was time to come home…his family…his wife…his pregnant wife…needed him. "Harriet, I should be there…."

Harriet, though, was adamant.

"No, Bud, you need to stay and do your job. Besides Mikey will be helping me by watching little AJ when I'm not at the house. We'll be fine, Bud…really…I'll be fine."

She decided to get his mind away from her situation, at least temporarily. "I've been recording Star Trek Enterprise and Stargate SG-1 for you. And they're having a Star Trek celebration weekend on the Sci-Fi channel…."

Bud momentarily forgot his worries, warmed by her taping his favorite shows. "You know I love you, don't you?"

That warmth for her incredible man returned. "Oh Bud," she was close to crying, "I miss you too. I'll be waiting for you when you step off that plane at Andrews."

Bud Roberts felt himself stirring. Just seeing the image of his wife in his mind's eye made his heart dance. "I love you, Harriet."

"I love you too, Bud." Harriet said proudly. "Now you get in there and you win that case."

Those words made him falter. "I don't think I can, Harriet…I mean…I don't think we can…."

That was the last thing she expected to hear from her husband at this point. Was he having doubts about his abilities again? "What are you talking about, Bud?" she probed.

"It's not as clear cut as they've been showing on ZNN," he tried to explain.

She smiled. "It rarely is, Bud. You and I both know that…."

Bud knew she was giving him that patronizing smile he hated. His voice turned momentarily sharp.

"I know, Harriet!" he snapped, then pulled himself back. "But it's something else honey…I think the Commander is starting to rub off on me…." he mused partially to himself, "Listen; I don't know how, Harriet, but I know those gunship pilots are innocent."

That upended her. She hadn't expected such a statement from him. "What? What are you talking about Bud? And what does this have to do with Commander Rabb? Bud, do you have proof?"

"No I haven't got any solid proof yet…but the circumstantial evidence just falls into place too easily, Harriet. There are witnesses who conveniently…too conveniently…saw the shooting…."

She tried using rational logic. Mac had taught her that men for some reason would listen to logic in situations like this. "Bud, that doesn't prove anything."

Bud was ready for the rational logic argument. "Then how would you account for all the witnesses for the defense that have died or been incapacitated?"

Time for some rationalization of coincidences. "The Commander's just having a run of bad luck, Bud, that's all."

Bud wasn't beaten yet. "Maybe, but then there's that creepy acting head of the Force Recon unit that keeps hanging around."

This conversation had so many twists and turns it was getting tough for Harriet to keep up. "Who is he, Bud? What does he have to do with the case?"

"Um, it's a 'her'."

Harriet couldn't believe what she was hearing. "He's a she? In Force Recon? How is that possible?"

The young attorney was at a loss to explain it himself. "I don't know. All I know is that she hangs around the courtroom…a lot."

"Maybe she's just interested in seeing justice done, Bud." She offered.

Bud wasn't buying that. "I don't know, Harriet, I just get a bad feeling about her."

Batchelor Officer Quarters [BOQ]

Camp Chesty Puller

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Sturgis knocked on Judge Blakely's door.

"Enter."

Blakely had just finished a mini-videoconference with Admiral Styles Morris when Sturgis Turner snapped to attention before him.

Clifford Blakely looked up at the naval Commander. "At ease Commander, what can I do for you?"

"I wanted to see about getting the confinement to quarters order for Lieutenant Roberts rescinded, Colonel."

Blakely observed the naval Commander's stance. The determination was there in his voice and he could see it in the man's face. He obviously wanted to do this. But why the sudden change?

"Are you going to press charges against the Lieutenant?" he said bluntly.

The Bubblehead fired right back.

"No sir. I've had time to think about it and we were all reacting emotionally at that time…myself included."

"And that excuses the Lieutenant's outburst?" he queried as only a judge can.

"No sir, not entirely. But taken into context with the terrorist attack on JAG Corps Headquarters and the fact that his wife worked in JAG Ops…. I can, upon reflection, better understand the Lieutenant."

Judge Blakely wasn't swayed by that argument. He wanted more. He wanted this officer to realize he should think twice before initiating disciplinary actions. It wasn't something to be used frivolously. "You didn't answer my question, Commander. Does that excuse the Lieutenant's outburst?"

Sturgis looked the judge straight in the eyes. "No sir. He should be punished for that breach in protocol…. It should, however, be taken into consideration what caused the violation in the first place, your Honor."

It was obvious that Sturgis believed in following the rules, but the preacher's son also understood there could be extenuating circumstances. It was now evidently clear to the Bubblehead that this was true in Bud's case.

Blakely nodded, making a mental note that such understanding might make him a good future candidate for being a judge. "I see," he said thoughtfully, "did the Lieutenant apologize for his behavior?"

"Yes sir," Sturgis said looking straight ahead, "and I apologized for mine."

Colonel Blakely was impressed that Commander Turner could see that his actions had inadvertently inflamed the situation. It takes a good officer to understand this.

"Very well Commander, you may let Lieutenant Roberts know that he is no longer confined to quarters."

Sturgis brought himself to attention. "Thank you, sir."

"Before you go, Commander, I need to see both counsels here in my quarters within the hour. Please deliver that message to Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie."

If this request had been given yesterday, Sturgis would have asked about the purpose of the meeting, but today he didn't feel as worried. Maybe talking with Bud had helped.

"Aye, aye, sir."

NCIS Headquarters

Washington Naval Yard

Anacostia

"John, are you coming over for dinner this weekend?" Jack McBurney grimaced as only a son or daughter could when asked that question. He hated personal life interrogation by his mother more than any chewing out given by a superior officer.

"Of course, Mom," he dodged, trying to keep that fake smile etched on his face as he talked to her. She'd know the minute he wasn't smiling that something was going on. He really hated lying to her, but with Faith, er, Commander Coleman gone to Iraq, work would be piling up making it hard for him to get away.

"You told me last weekend you come…" Arrgh! Motherly guilt. Jack would rather have his eyes scratched out by rabid cats than have to deal with this.

"I'm really sorry, Mom, but you know how my job is…sometimes work comes up and it's impossible to get away."

He gritted his teeth as she gave her exaggerated sigh. "Of course, dear, I understand…." Which in Mom doubletalk meant she didn't. "Did you go to court against that nice Commander Coleman I met in your office last month? She seems like such a nice girl…." The hint hung heavily in the air.

Nuts! He wasn't expecting that move. "Um yeah, I did. We usually end up on opposite ends of the case, Mom. That's how it works."

"I know, but it doesn't give you much of chance to get to know her…."

Jack rolled his eyes while trying to keep that smile on his face. He lowered his voice in case Abby, or worse yet, Tony happened to be walking by. "Momm…we really don't have that much in common."

"John Michael McBurney, now you listen to me. I didn't raise my son to be a single hermit the rest of his life. You have to start with someone. You aren't getting any younger…."

If she only knew Jack was working on getting the NCIS forensics specialist, Abby Sciuto, to go out with him. Then again, maybe it was better to let her think he was a hermit. At least for now.

Checkpoint Bravo

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

"We're just waiting for our chance to strike back, sir," said the determined young Marine. Sully focused his mini-cam on the soldier's taut face.

"Don't you feel frustrated just sitting here?" Stuart asked off camera. "Wouldn't you rather strike back right now?"

If the Marine identified as 'PFC Tommy M.' felt baited, he didn't show it. "That would lead to unnecessary casualties and collateral damage, sir. I'll wait for the word from my commanding officer. Then we'll be going in and getting the real bad guys rather than charging around like an enraged bull."

The camera cut back to Stuart. "'And so 'the word' right now it seems, is wait. But all the Marines we've interviewed today say their actions will be worth the wait. The problem is that the enemy seems to have once again disappeared into the trackless wastes of this primarily desert country, leaving U.S. and Coalition forces ready to strike, but no one to strike at…reporting for ZNN, Stuart Dunston, near Al-Nasiriyah, Iraq.'"

"Okay, Sully, cut it." The ZNN correspondent looked over at his cameraman. "How'd that look?"

Sully gave Stuart a 'thumb's up'. "Great Stuart, with the backdrop of the various vehicles and heavily armed soldiers in the background, that made it look perfect."

As the ZNN reporter and his cameraman continued to discuss the mood of their camera shoots, a Polish BRDM [Bronirovannaya Razvedivatelnaya Dozornaya Mashina] armored reconnaissance vehicle slowed to a stop behind them.

Stuart noted the puzzled look on Sully's face and turned to see the Polish armored car parked behind them. "Well, well, well, what do we have here, I wonder?"

Sully silently observed that sandwiched in between the two BRDM's was a wheeled South Korean personnel carrier that they were obviously guarding. But from what?

The leader of the three-vehicle convoy climbed out of the first armored car and walked smartly over to Stuart and Sully.

"Good evening, Kaptain," Stuart said amiably, "What can we do for you?"

The man snapped to attention. "I am Kaptain Stanislaus Chirdorz, from the command staff of Szczecin 12th Mechanized Division, part of Multinational Division –Central." The soldier replied stiffly. "I need to speak with Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr., United States Navy JAG Corps."

Stuart and Sully exchanged wry smirks, then Stuart looked back at the Polish officer. "Why do you need to see Commander Rabb? And even more importantly, what makes you think I know him?"

"My unit's commanding officer, Pulkownik Luisa Baranova, gave me orders to deliver these people to Commander Rabb," Captain Chirdorz said smartly, "and the Colonel told me that you would know where Commander Rabb is."

Stuart looked over at the Korean personnel carrier. A young girl dressed in native garb and wearing a Kevlar vest and helmet sat next to a South Korean doctor. Both were flanked by two soldiers dressed in black and wearing facemasks. He could have asked why the child and doctor were being guarded by these Korean Special Forces soldiers, but he thought he might get a better explanation from Harmon Rabb, and that might even lead to an exclusive.

"Sure we can take you to him. C'mon Sully." Stuart couldn't wait to hear what this was all about.

NCIS Headquarters

Faith Coleman walked into the NCIS bullpen. She saw Tony DiNozzo's unabashed stare and gave him a hard look. Tony suddenly found something interesting on his computer. The JAG-NCIS Liaison walked up to Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs' desk and stood at attention. She didn't have to, but she figured since he was lead agent in the office, it couldn't hurt.

"Lieutenant Commander Faith Coleman reporting for temporarily assigned duty," she said crisply.

She waited to be told to stand at ease. Former Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs though, was absorbed in something happening on his computer.

"Tony!"

Anthony DiNozzo's head shot up like a prairie dog. "Yeah Boss!"

Gibbs tapped a few keys on his keyboard as look of irritation built on his face. "This doo-hickey is appearing on my screen again!"

Tony saved what he was working on and got up from his chair. "Be right there, Boss…"

The former Baltimore Police detective walked over to Gibbs' cubicle. He gave Commander Coleman an appreciative grin as he sidled past her.

"Excuse me, ma'am," he said with mock politeness as he made his way into the cubicle and gave the lead NCIS Agent's screen a cursory glance.

"Um, you must've hit F11 again, Boss…" he said quietly to the older NCIS Agent.

"I didn't hit F11 DiNozzo," Gibbs replied brusquely.

The former police detective tried again. "Boss that's-"

"I didn't hit F11!" Gibbs snapped. "All I did was open a damn document!"

"Then it must be a macro, Boss." Tony said quickly trying to calm his superior.

"Then un-macro it!"

Part two later this weekend**

"Uh, got it, Boss." Tony looked up at the JAG Liaison who was still standing at attention. "I think Commander Coleman would like you to acknowledge her."

Gibbs flicked his eyes up at her and then back to what was Tony was doing.

"Don't stand at attention, Commander."

Faith remained at attention. "I've been given temporary assigned-"

"I heard you the first time," he replied gruffly. "*Who* assigned *you* to *my team*?"

Faith remained stoic despite her inward shock at Gibbs growing anger. "Admiral Chegwidden with Director Morrow's approval."

"Stay here. And stop standing at attention…go to parade rest or something…."

Tony gave her another grin as she uneasily settled into a parade rest stance.

Gibbs in the meantime headed for the stairs and took them two at a time.

They both watched as he turned and headed for the Director's office.

"I wouldn't get too comfortable if I were you, Commander," Tony whispered in her ear as passed her on the way back to his desk.

As Gibbs opened the glass door, Tom Morrow's secretary gave him a knowing smile. "He's waiting for you, Agent Gibbs."

The silver-haired NCIS Agent entered the director's office.

Tom gave his senior Agent a perturbed look. "I figured you would be up here as soon as she reported to you."

Gibbs wasn't impressed with his boss's ESP. "Sir, you know that I hand pick my team…."

"Yes, I do, Gibbs," he replied evenly, "And normally I wouldn't do this, but these aren't normal times."

The former Marine Gunnery Sergeant couldn't argue with that point. "Yes sir."

"Admiral Chegwidden requested that this be a joint JAG-NCIS investigation. I think you can understand why."

He did. "Yes sir."

"I'm asking for your help on this one, Jethro." It was rare when Director Tom Morrow ever called Gibbs by his first name.

"The JAG wanted someone from his legal team for this one. We both agreed that Commander Coleman was the best person for the job."

"Mr. Director I understand the need for a member of JAG Corps to accompany us, but why not Major McBurney instead?"

Tom Morrow smirked at his veiled comment. "You just want him, Gibbs, because he's a Marine."

"That is a point in his favor, sir."

Tom stood up and faced his senior agent. "You need balance on your team, Gibbs, the Commander will provide that, she is combat trained and dealing with this situation might call for legal expertise only she can provide."

He didn't mention that she was also Navy. Which is what the JAG wanted. Gibbs made a mental note to visit with Admiral A.J. Chegwidden at some future date.

"Yes, sir." Gibbs also knew when to pick his battles and when to back down.

"I heard that Special Agent Blackadder transferred out of your team."

Gibbs involuntarily grimaced. "Yes, sir…she needed more field experience."

"The way I heard it, she almost got you killed when you went after Bin Atwa's cohort, Khalil Zahari, because she hesitated."

The silver haired NCIS Agent was nonplussed. "It was her choice, sir. I didn't ask her to leave."

"I know you didn't, Gibbs, if you had, I would have had you up here explaining to me the difference between Agent Blackadders' mistakes and those made by Agents' Burley, Pacci, or DiNozzo."

"Look Gibbs, I know this is not the usual way you do things, but as a personal favor to me, make this work. Show the Admiral how cooperative we can be. It will gain us some leverage with him in future investigations."

Gibbs hated playing politics with any case, but the Director was right. After that memorable NCIS investigation this spring that almost lead to JAG's lead attorney, Harmon Rabb, Jr., being convicted of murder…well maybe a little fence mending wouldn't hurt.

"You can count on me, sir." The silver haired NCIS Agent said professionally.

Tom Morrow smiled. "I knew I could."

He handed Gibbs a folder that contained a thick report. "This is the JAG audit report written by former Commander Lindsey. Chegwidden has his folks over in Mirbullah pulling double duty. They are prosecuting their case and modeling themselves after the characterizations in the report. Chegwidden's team is trying to lure the traitors out of hiding."

Gibbs' eyes focused on the abstract of the report. Lindsey had painted JAG Corps with a very dramatic brush. He was glad his team didn't have to do any role playing.

"Find out what the connection is between those terrorists and the 36th MEU Gibbs, if there are traitors in that unit, the JAG and I want them found and stopped."

Gibbs was thinking about what Commander Rabb had said about Sedrick Phillips. "Yes sir, so do I."

Mac had finally tracked down the one person who could confirm their theory. She entered the enlisted mess hall and walked over to the Lance Corporal that Colonel Livingston had introduced to her a couple of days ago.

"Corporal Danvers? I don't know if you remember me or not, I'm Colonel MacKenzie. We met in the courtroom a couple of days ago…."

The Lance Corporal looked up somewhat reluctantly from her chili dog smothered with cheese to see the JAG Colonel standing before her. Danvers didn't mean any disrespect toward the Colonel, it was just, well, it had been a while since she had a real honest to goodness chili cheese dog.

She immediately stood. "Ma'am, yes ma'am, I remember you. Would the Colonel like a chili dog or bowl of chili?"

Abruptly Mac's stomach answered for her with a low growl prompted by the sweet smell of a juicy hot dog smothered in chili and cheese sauce. The Marine JAG's last full meal had been dinner yesterday and with all the ground she and Harm had covered in the last 48 hours, and inwardly she was mortified by this public announcement from her gut that it wanted comfort food.

Lance Corporal Kayce Danvers had to bite her tongue to keep from smiling as she offered Mac a chair on the other side of the table.

Mac outwardly smiled warmly. "No thank you, Corporal." She said letting her know she appreciated the offer.

"Permission to sit down and continue eating ma'am?"

"Of course, go ahead."

Mac sat down first and then the Corporal sat back down. Kayce took a big bite of her chili dog. She had to go on patrol in fifteen minutes

"Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

Corporal Danvers, who thought she had been given permission to eat, stopped with her chili dog frozen in mid-air. She quickly put it down and finished swallowing her first big bite. Without thinking, wiped her mouth just in case there was any chili or cheese on it.

"I'm guessing that this has to do with Lieutenants Lukens and Buell's court martial, right, ma'am?"

"Yes it does, Corporal. I need an expert opinion-"

"Begging the Colonel's pardon, ma'am," she said quickly, "I'm not an expert, just a sniper."

Mac welcomed her self-depreciating manner. "Not according the reports I've read about you. From what I've heard, Corporal, you're well respected, and your reputation from Afghanistan precedes you. It's your sniper expertise that I need, Corporal."

"Okay, ma'am…shoot…uh, that is, so to speak," she said with slight smile.

"Corporal, how good of a shot would one have to be to bring down a Cobra gunship with a Barrett rifle without destroying the gunship or causing it to crash?"

"Are we speaking hypothetically or real incident?"

"Let's go with hypothetical right now, Corporal."

"Helos are funny things, ma'am, ordinary rifle fire in the right place can bring them down…but you're right, it would take someone very skilled to damage a Cobra helo just enough to force it to land."

"So a Barrett could bring down a Cobra gunship. Say a Barrett fired by someone with special ops experience?" Mac proposed.

Kayce's smile grew. "Hypothetically speaking, ma'am?"

Mac nodded.

"Yes, ma'am, a SEAL, Ranger, Army Special Forces, Delta…."

"…or a Force Recon sniper." Mac finished for her.

"Yes, ma'am, or a Force Recon sniper."

Mac stood as did Corporal Danvers. "Thank you, Corporal, you've been very helpful."

No prob ma'am; always glad to help a JAG…hypothetically speaking, of course."

Mac grinned at the Corporal's joke and made a note to head to the officer's mess next. Maybe they were having chili dogs too….

As Gibbs came back downstairs into the NCIS bullpen, he could hear his subordinate, Tony, and Faith Coleman involved in a professional discussion.

"I'll let Gibbs know about that right now, Commander, he always wants to know our opinions."

"It's not opinion, Agent DiNozzo, it's 'fact'," she said heatedly.

"Tomato, tomahtoe, Commander," Tony replied sarcastically.

Gibbs made sure he wasn't heard until he was behind both of them. "What opinion do you have that you need to share with me, Commander?"

Both started, but Faith quickly regained her composure. In response to his comment, Faith's lips formed a thin hard line before she spoke.

"I was informing Special Agent DiNozzo of the fact that JAG is in possession of the terrorist cell's operational planning book, courtesy of Petty Officers Coates and Tiner."

Gibbs turned on the former Baltimore police detective. "Did you follow up on this DiNozzo?"

"Uh, no, Boss, not yet. But I'll get right on that…" Tony quickly scurried away from the senior NCIS Agent.

"You do that," he said blandly as he smiled wryly at Tony's antics.

His smile disappeared as he turned toward Faith. "Commander, walk with me." He ordered sternly.

Faith Coleman fought the urge to bark, 'now see here Special Agent Gibbs' knowing that Admiral Chegwidden would not appreciate her personally sabotaging this joint investigation before it even began. She fell into step with him as they walked towards the elevator.

Gibbs stabbed the button and the elevator door slid open.

The NCIS Agent waited until the Navy JAG liaison entered, then followed her. Gibbs stood silently beside her for a moment then he punched the button for the basement.

As the elevator began to move downward, he hit the emergency stop button. The car shuddered to a halt and its emergency lighting came on.

He gave her an irritated glare. "*I* choose the people who join *my* team."

"I'm joining *your* team," she declared hotly, "At the request of Admiral Chegwidden!" In the back of her mind, she didn't know why she was responding so forcefully to Special Agent Gibbs. Many times she had been faced with hostile personalities and she never had the urge to respond like this.

"I'm the one who decides who joins my team!" he fired back. "Not the Director and certainly not the Judge Advocate General!"

"Fine!" she snapped. "It certainly wasn't my idea, *Special Agent Gibbs*!"

"If you want to join *my team* you *ask* me," he said more calmly.

She rolled her eyes in exasperation. (Of all the…) "Permission to…*May I* join *your* team, Special Agent Gibbs?" she said icily.

The silver haired former Marine Gunny stood for a moment silently considering her request.

She arched an eyebrow at him in irritation. "Well?"

Gibbs gave her a playful grin. "We'd be honored to have you join our team, Commander."

His calm polite tone flustered and surprised her. She was expecting another verbal outburst from this former Marine.

"Uh, thank you…Special Agent Gibbs…." She responded a little unsteadily.

He smiled again. "Gibbs will be just fine, Commander. You don't have to 'salute me', or 'sir' me. I'm not an officer, and I'm not in the military anymore."

(So why the prima donna act?) she wondered. Her face though, didn't betray her curiosity. She was pure, serene by-the-book JAG Attorney Coleman.

"All right…Gibbs."

Gibbs resumed his Marine DI stance. "From here on in, you report to me first, Admiral Chegwidden second, and then anyone else you need to talk to as long as it has been cleared by me."

She didn't know what it was about him that made her naturally bristle, but that was beside point. She had other concerns at the moment. She had heard from other NCIS agents and the other military personnel that worked here about 'Gibbs rules'. Now she was going to get firsthand knowledge about Leroy Jethro Gibbs' 'philosophy of life'. She could hardly wait.

"Is this one of your infamous rules?" She said with cruel smile. "Just how many of these *rules* are there?"

A scowl broke over the Senior NCIS Agent's face. "About fifty of them," he responded as he punched the emergency button again to release the car. Then he moved over in front of her before the door opened. "And my job…is to teach them to you while you're with us, Commander."

She felt her hackles go up again. "I've had formal military training, Gibbs, just like you."

Gibbs gave her a wry smile in response to her defensive posture. "This is not military training, this is *my training* to help think like an NCIS Agent and keep you *alive* Commander."

"But I'm not an NCIS Agent," she replied forcefully. She wasn't going to let him bowl her over that easily.

They both exited the car. Upon her response, he stopped and she did likewise. Former Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs' face looked as if it were made of stone.

"If you join my team," he said almost in a whisper as he leaned over and spoke into her ear, "you are an NCIS Agent, and I expect you to act like one."

2008 Local

Persian Gulf

Two F-14D Super Tomcats streaked across the early evening sky over the dark silent waters of the Persian Gulf.

"LIBERTY 21 This is LIBERTY CONTROL, please give your fuel state…."

The pilot of LIBERTY 21 had the nickname "Undertaker" emblazoned across the front of his helmet. However, judging from the pallor of his face, he could have easily passed for one of the businesses' customers right now.

"Approaching…Bingo fuel…Control…."

"How are you feeling 21?"

Beads of sweat dotted the man's face and the heat from his face was threatening to fog over the lenses of his oxygen mask. "Like…someone…kicked me in the…guts."

"How's your RIO?"

"Undertaker" looked in his mirror at his unconscious Radar Intercept Officer. Her head rolled back revealing the name "Skates" tattooed just above her visor.

"Still…still unconscious…Control…."

"Is she throwing up anymore?"

"Undertaker" fought the urge to swipe at the rivulets of sweat cascading off his face. Right now he had to focus all his energy on not splashing this bird.

"Negative…Control."

On board USS Patrick Henry, the CAG exchanged a quick look of relief with Captain Tobias Ingles who had walked over to the air control workstation.

"That's the sixth one today." The CAG said tersely, as he watched the two blips on the radar screen moving back toward the carrier. Tobias took a quick sip of the warm brew in his cup.

The Patrick Henry's Captain leaned over and looked at the latest information about Liberty Flight. "We're damned lucky Johnny's got a strong constitution or that Tomcat would be headed to Davy Jones locker."

"We can't afford to lose many more pilots, CAG," Ingles said curtly, "We're scraping the bottom of the barrel as it is."

"The Flight Surgeon and the ship's Doctor have quarantined all who are showing even the slightest hint of symptoms," the CAG replied wearily. "Damn bug's a menace, whatever it is."

Captain Ingles nodded in agreement. "I've ordered biological warfare protocols into effect to minimize exposure to the rest of the crew."

"How's Reprisal doing sir?"

Ingles blew out a frustrated sigh as he pushed his cover up higher on his brow. "Twenty percent of their crew is down with this bug."

The CAG scrubbed his face in an effort to keep his mind focused on trying to get his two F-14's down in one piece. "If things don't get better soon, we're going to have to start activating pilots from the reserves."

The crackle of radio static interrupted their grim assessment.

"LIBERTY CONTROL, this is LIBERTY 22."

The CAG and Captain Ingles exchanged anxious looks before the CAG picked up the radio mike and spoke into it.

"Go ahead LIBERTY 22…"

"21's looking shaky CAG, I don't know if he's going to make it."

The CAG looked grimly at Patrick Henry's captain before he spoke again into the mike. "Stay with him 'Supergirl', keep him talking."

"Roger, CONTROL. LIBERTY 22, out."

"We're lucky Nicole hasn't caught whatever this is," Ingles commented, taking another sip from his coffee cup.

"Kid's got a lucky streak a mile wide," said the CAG in agreement. "She told me her family was one of those that never got sick."

"Let's just hope she can keep Johnny alert enough to land that bird, CAG."

The radiophone on the wall buzzed. The CAG picked it up and briefly spoke with the person on the other end before hanging up.

"The crash teams are ready and waiting for them," he reported to the Captain.

Tobias Ingles looked again at the two blips heading for his ship. "Let's hope we don't have to use them, CAG."

"Aye sir,"

-TBC…


	46. Chapter 45

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 45

A/N1: Disclaimers and other vital information can be found in story archive for …FMS which can be found in the prologue on this site.

A/N2: **~~** indicates flashback ( ) indicates the thoughts of a person. *~* indicates a scene shift not otherwise indicated by a JAG time stamp.

A/N3: Thanks to my friend and beta Karen who is my sounding board from almost the beginning and has helped me see this through. Kudoes to AeroGirl, Mkim, Soleil, TZ, Janlaw for providing their help and technical expertise. Also thanks to Lisa Griffon [Yahoo Shipper Group] for her continuing support.

2015 Local  
>Bachelor Office Quarters [BOQ]<br>Camp Chesty Puller  
>Near Mirbullah, Iraq<p>

Harm was sitting at Mac's desk making more notes about the upcoming trial. Mac had left earlier to track down what she called an 'expert witness'. The aviator/attorney didn't know who she had in mind but at this point he'd be willing talk to anyone…anyone that is, except Darcy Livingston.

What was it about her that made him think she was guilty of anything? Harm thought about this for a moment. He was doing what all good lawyers do, playing devil's advocate, seeing if his emotional reaction to her was coloring his judgment.

No good. Something about Lieutenant Colonel Livingston just rubbed him the wrong way. The last time he felt this way about someone was…Clark Palmer. His skin prickling, he picked up the faxed report Clay had sent to them and looked at the scribbled note on the cover 'Mr. Green, DSD…' Harm felt a flash of anger and worry surge through him. Could Darcy Livingston be DSD? Could she be one of Clark Palmer's 'friends'?

He looked at her fitness report again. '…an excellent officer, thrown into command by a series of happenstances…including the death of her commanding officer.' Harm stopped reading. Sounds like a DSD arranged accident. Very nice and neat. A tragic battlefield death that lets a DSD sympathizer or agent—

The door to the quarters swung open, startling Harm. His head shot up and he looked at Mac with wide frightened eyes.

"Wow, Flyboy, you look like you've seen a ghost…."

Harm caught his breath. "Sorry, Marine, you caught me by surprise" He managed to get out between breaths.

"It's my quarters, Navy, I don't…" she stopped in mid-quip as she got a good look at Harm's face.

"Harm, are you okay?"

"Darcy's DSD," Harm declared, "or at least she's had DSD help getting where she is…and I think she knew Clark Palmer…."

Mac's expression turned serious. "Colonel Livingston? DSD? And how do you know that the Colonel knows Agent Palmer?"

"You're not going to like my answer," Harm replied sourly.

"Try me," she challenged, standing back and crossing her arms.

"It's a feeling that I have about her, and I really think she got to her present position through a friendly fire incident that is a classic textbook DSD operation."

She moved closer to the Navy Commander. "Harm, you know you can't accuse someone of wrongdoing based on feelings."

Her breath brushed his face and the Naval Commander's expression became acerbic. "Have you been eating chili dogs?"

Mac rolled her eyes at his bait and switch tactics, "What does *that* have to do with this case?"

Harm was intent on getting her to eat better, besides it was easier to talk about her eating habits than the possibility that Darcy was more of a threat than they had originally thought.

"Maac, come on, you know how bad hot dogs are for you…."

Okay, maybe he was suffering from a temporary bout of A.D.D., she thought to herself, Fine. She could switch gears as easily as he could. "They had chili on them Stickboy," she said defensively, "and besides they were all-beef franks."

"That's even worse than I originally thought," he shot back.

Mac had had enough of this. Harm didn't usually evade a topic of discussion, but it was evident something about Darcy Livingston made him uneasy, very uneasy. She needed to know why and it had to be more than just a feeling he was having.

"Getting back to the case," she snorted, "Harm, do you have any other proof besides your feelings about Darcy?"

"Nothing solid yet, Mac," he admitted looking down and away from her.

This was the equivalent of a mea culpa from the aviator/lawyer. Harm used to never let down his shields around her. Now she was getting worried. If his feelings about Darcy were that strong, then she'd better find out what he knew or thought he knew.

She was about to further probe her partner when they both heard the measured rapping on the door announcing that someone was outside and wanted to come in.

"We'll finish this later," she said to the tall Naval Commander as she started to cross to the door.

Harm though, was a bit faster. "Let me, Mac," he said quickly as he headed for the door.

She didn't know why he was doing the misplaced chivalry bit. "Harm, these are my quarters, I should be the one answering the door."

He shot her irritated look. "Just humor me, Marine, okay?"

There was something else in his voice beside just his usual irritation at her independent streak…was it fear? What was Harm afraid of? Why was he acting like her bodyguard?

She decided not to press the issue for the moment but once their visitor left, she and Harm were going to talk about Harm's gut feelings and his bizarre behavior since she had gotten back from talking to Corporal Danvers and her visit to the officer's mess.

Harm opened the door and saw Sturgis Turner standing there.

"I'm sorry, I thought these were Mac's quarters-" Sturgis managed to say with a straight face.

Harm grimaced. "Sturgis," the aviator/lawyer said coolly, opening the door wider to reveal Mac standing by her desk.

"Harm," the Bubblehead was polite but businesslike "I figured I would find you two here together.

Before either defense attorney could say anything, Sturgis stated his reason for being here.

"Judge Blakely has asked that both trial and defense counsel meet with him within the hour. He asked that you meet with your clients first to see if they have any objections to starting court martial member selection the day after tomorrow instead of tomorrow."

"Why the latitude regarding our clients? What reason did he give Sturgis?" Mac asked moving closer to the door.

"None yet, Mac," replied the Bubblehead, "But I'm guessing it has to do with the attack on JAG Headquarters."

Harm and Mac exchanged curious looks. Harm turned back to his old Academy buddy. "We'll confer with our clients and let you know their answer," Harm said curtly. He wanted to get this conversation over with as quickly as possible.

"Okay, I'll see you in Judge Blakely's office." The former Dolphin turned to leave but then reconsidered; stopping and looking Harm straight in the eyes.

"Harm, for what it's worth, I got Judge Blakely to drop Bud's confinement to quarters." Having said that, he turned again to leave.

"Why Sturgis?" Harm said guardedly, "Why the sudden change of heart?"

The former Bubblehead stopped, sighed and then turned back to face his former classmate again. "Because emotions were running high yesterday, Harm," Sturgis gave him a weary smile, his first in 48 hours. "mine included."

Harm and Mac exchanged cautiously optimistic looks. Sturgis continued.

"Bud was frustrated because he was worried about his wife. I should have realized that rather than dismissing his concerns."

"Sounds like a confession, ole buddy," Harm said with a lopsided grin.

"It's okay, Sturgis," Mac said coming to the door, wanting to reassure the preacher's son that he was doing the right thing. "We were all under a lot of stress yesterday." She gave Harm a not so gentle nudge.

"Um, yeah Sturg," Harm said quickly trying his best to sound charitable. "All of us were."

The Bubblehead gave the two attorneys a brief curious look then gave them an appreciative smile. "I'll see you two in Judge Blakely's quarters in about forty minutes."

1740 Zulu  
>JAG Headquarters<br>Falls Church, Virginia

AJ walked over to his 'thinking spot' next to the fireplace. The workmen would be here soon to check the wiring and begin replacing the shattered wooden paneling (I hate being underfoot during renovations…).

His mind was elsewhere. He had just gotten back from Bethesda. He had sat quietly in Jason Tiner's room as he slept, thinking about how close his Yeoman had come to dying the day before. This man who he had called 'numb nuts', this man who just graduated from law school had nearly been killed yesterday because he had wrongly assumed that terrorists couldn't possibly have learned his two petty officers had obtained their operations manual.

(When you assume…) he chuckled dourly, shaking his head.

Then he had gone down the hall to Jennifer Coates room. She looked so tiny and frail under those clean sheets encumbered with all those casts. She too, was asleep the whole time he was there. Probably better that way. At least for him, anyway.

It was his fault this had happened. He wasn't about to pass off blame for this to someone else like some mealy-mouthed Washington bureaucrat.

No. He was going to get to the bottom of who had attacked his command and killed and wounded his people. And to do that he had to make another deal with the devil. Not unlike a similar deal he had been part of.

To make this one though, he had to get out of here for a while. Walking over to his desk, he stabbed the intercom button.

"Lieutenant,"

"Yes sir?" came back the efficient blonde's response.

"I need to get on the next flight to Leavenworth and a rental car."

Instead of her usual questions Harriet Sims was all business. "I'll get started immediately, sir."

AJ sighed. At least she wasn't giving him the fifth degree.

"Um, sir, if you don't mind me asking, for how long?"

Admiral Chegwidden smiled and shook his head. He should have known this wouldn't last.

"Make it three days, Lieutenant…." He said hoping she wouldn't probe further, but knowing her, she probably would.

Her answer surprised him.

"Yes sir. I'll have Gunny make the arrangement for a rental car while I make the travel arrangements."

"Uh, very good, Lieutenant."

*~*

2048 Local

"So your clients have no objections?" Judge Blakely asked as he walked over to his window and looked out at the Iraqi night sky.

"No your Honor," Harm said speaking as lead defense counsel.

He turned to face them again. "Very well then. Jury selection will begin on Thursday, 10 July at 1000. Thank you for your flexibility."

Clifford Blakely gave Bud Roberts a thoughtful stare.

"Lieutenant Roberts is everything okay with your wife?"

"Yes sir, thank you for asking. Your Honor, I want to apologize-"

Judge Blakely held up his hand. "No need, Lieutenant. I was concerned about my co-workers in the Judges' chambers. We all had friends we were worried about."

Bud nodded. "Yes sir."

The Marine Judge blew out a heavy sigh. "Let's hope that nothing else delays this trial martial. Dismissed."

All four JAG attorneys came to attention. "Aye, aye, sir." They were careful not to let the Judge see their reaction to his frustration.

*~*

1804 Zulu

Ashton R. Briggs waited for the line to connect. He knew it was probably taking longer than usual to link up with JAG Headquarters because of all the damage the building had suffered – most likely they'd had to jury-rig until they could rewire the whole facility.

While he was waiting he thought about what Darcy had told him. Rabb was chasing will 'o wisps in terms of leads. He was wasting valuable resources and time that could be better spent on other endeavors. She intimated it might be a good idea to cut this former jet jock turned attorney loose. No matter what his reputation at JAG, he had clearly lost his way on this case.

Everyone loses their edge, she had patiently reminded Ash. It was time for Rabb to step aside. Looking at the mounting evidence before him, the CO of the 36th MEU had to agree.

"Admiral Chegwidden," It sounded as if AJ were his old self again.

"AJ? It's Ashton."

The JAG's voice immediately dropped its harsh timbre. Did the MEU CO detect a note of concern in the Admiral's voice? "Ash? What's going on?"

"I…I just wanted to…oh hell, I just wanted to make sure you were okay, AJ. How are you holding up?" It was an honest comment, none of this military protocol junk. Just two old friends talking.

"As well as can be expected, I guess…." Briggs could hear the tiredness and frustration in his friend's voice. Having your command shot away from under you is not something you just bounce back from.

"We'll get them AJ, I promise you that. They aren't going to get away with this."

AJ knew that was a good as any warranty guarantee. Ash may be a stubborn ole coot but he was also a loyal friend and if the terrorists really were from Iraq, he'd move heaven and earth to find them.

"Well…thanks, Ash. How is the case coming by the way?"

"The court martial is on hold, but you probably know that…." The tone turned accusatory. It was obvious that Ashton Briggs didn't want to talk about the ongoing legal proceedings. But he forgot he was not only talking to his friend, but the Navy-Marine Corps JAG as well.

"What do you mean?" The JAG's voice hardened as he zeroed in on Briggs' flippant comment.

Colonel Briggs rarely danced around delicate subjects. He got right to the point. "I mean AJ, that Rabb's the problem. Look. I'll come right to the point. He's taking up valuable time chasing down dead end leads. I want him off the trial."

AJ Chegwidden closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. This wasn't first time he had this conversation with a convening authority. "Ash, he's Lieutenant Lukens's defense counsel. You know it's improper for the Convening Authority or even me to interfere with his trial strategy or discuss it. It would be Lukens's choice to request Individual Military Counsel or hire a civilian lawyer if he thinks Rabb isn't up to the job, not yours."

Hoping his quoting of 'the basics' of military legal procedure had shocked some sense into his friend, AJ leaned forward in his chair, making sure his words penetrated his friend's seemingly thick skull. "Ash, both you and I know it's the defense counsel's job…dammit, it's his sworn duty…to do everything possible to defend his client. Now how does the Lieutenant feel about Rabb's handling of the case?"

"Lukens's thinks he's doing fine." It was obvious that Ashton didn't agree with this assessment.

That was good enough for the JAG. "Then there's your answer Ash. If the accused is sticking with his detailed defense counsel, then I'm not pulling him off."

Ash tried to use friendship as leverage and told him what Darcy Livingston had told him. "AJ, he's holding up the proceedings chasing phantom witnesses…."

AJ's voice became hard again. "Is Rabb doing his job, Ash?"

Ashton's Briggs' voice matched his tone. "By being annoying and a pain in the butt, AJ?"

The Admiral knew Harmon Rabb, jr. had a way of getting under a CO's skin but then did so did all of his JAGs. That was part of their job. To find the problem and solve it. "By doing his damnedest to defend his client to the best of his ability and chasing down every possible lead that might get his client acquitted. And if that's what you call being annoying and a pain in the butt, then I'm sorry. But I wouldn't have him do it any other way."

Briggs tried the friendship appeal again. "AJ, he's making a mockery of these proceedings…"

AJ, however, was unmoved by the ploy. He'd heard it before in many variations. "Ash, if his partner isn't concerned and the trial counsel isn't making motions or otherwise complaining, Rabb's doing his job. He stays."

Ash decided to up the ante. "Then I'll pull him off."

AJ knew what he was doing. He should have been surprised that an old friend would try something like this. But then, that old friend was a Commanding Officer who felt threatened. The SEAL in AJ came out as he laced his words with iron. "Colonel, once a defense counsel is detailed and establishes an attorney-client relationship, only the accused can fire him and only with a judge's consent. I know you've had Commander's Military Justice 101 training—what the hell's gotten into you? Colonel, let me remind you that nobody pulls a JAG officer of mine off a court case unless it's the accused or God, and he hasn't asked. Rabb stays. Is that clear?" This was a turf war, plain and simple and the JAG decided to call his bluff.

"AJ-"

"Ash, because we've been buddies for a long time, I'm going to overlook your attempt at undue command influence on this case. But so help me, if you try that again, I'll have you up on charges." AJ meant it. Friend or not.

The MEU Commander wasn't done yet. "I'll go over your head if I have to, AJ."

AJ became all business. This was no longer a conversation between friends. "You obviously haven't heard a word I said. Fine, dammit, you have that right. Go ahead and try, Colonel."

The final exchange was decidedly formal and chilly.

"Goodbye Admiral."

"Goodbye, Colonel."

AJ banged the receiver back on the phone cradle. As the JAG sat at his desk his mind began replaying the conversation. He shouldn't have had to quote Ashton Briggs basic military legal procedures and protocols. Despite his anger, AJ was growing concerned about his friend's course of action. Would he really risk a career ending action over this case? Why was Ashton Briggs acting so irrationally?

2107 Local

Harm and Mac had just split off from Bud and Sturgis and were headed back to Mac's quarters when a ZNN Jeep Cherokee pulled across their path.

The tall Naval aviator let out a disgusted sigh as Stuart Dunston stepped out of the SUV.

"Mr. Dunston, I thought we agreed no interviews until we were ready."

Stuart shook his head and smiled. "Not here for an interview, Commander, Colonel. I've got some people with me who are eager to talk to you."

He pointed to his left.

With all the noise and confusion that surrounded the crowded Marine Expeditionary Unit base, Harm and Mac hadn't noticed the two Polish BRDMs and the South Korean personnel carrier, sitting off to one side.

Mac gave her partner a look of curiosity. Harm shrugged, indicating he didn't know what the ZNN Reporter had up his sleeve.

The JAGs walked with Stuart over to the Polish armored cars.

"Here he is," Stuart said as a way of introducing the JAGs to the Polish vehicle commander who was standing beside his vehicle. Dunston patted Harm on the shoulder as he headed back to his truck. "Remember Rabb, you owe me for this…."

Harm shot Stuart's retreating back a puzzled look. Then he turned back to the Polish officer who was already saluting. Harm and Mac returned his salute.

"Commander Harmon Rabb? U.S. Navy Judge Advocate General Corps?" The man spoke in formal, stilted English.

Harm and Mac exchanged curious glances. "Ah, yeah, and you are Kaptain…?"

The soldier looked momentarily embarrassed. Another Polish soldier quickly joined him.

"Ah, forgive my rudeness and the lateness of the hour, Commander. "Kaptain Stanislaus Chirdorz. This is my executive officer, Porucznik Anton Grobotow, 12th Mechanized Division, Multi-National Defense Forces Center. My contingent's Commander, Pulkownik Luisa Baranova, sent me to find you."

Mac fought to keep a smirk off her face as she nodded her acknowledgement. What was it with women and Rabb? Could they smell that he was a former Top Gun?

Harm, for his part, continued to look bewildered, wondering what a Polish peacekeeping contingent commander wanted with him at this time of night. And why had this Coalition Commander sent him two BRDMs and a South Korean personnel carrier?

"Uh, how can I help you, Kaptain Chirdorz, Porucznik Grobotow?"

Grobotow motioned toward the Korean carrier. "Please, sir, if you will follow me…"

Harm and Mac exchanged intrigued looks. Harm, for his part, tried to relay to Mac via visual cues that this wasn't his idea.

The Polish officers motioned to their Sergeant who got down off the lead BRDM and joined Grobotow and Chirdorz. The three men led the two curious JAGs to the back of the South Korean armored car. The Sergeant knocked on the passenger compartment door, before opening it.

Grobotow turned to Harm. "Pulkownik Baranova said you and the Colonel would wish to speak to these people as soon as possible."

The heavy metal door opened to reveal Dr. Soong and Saddiyah flanked by two South Korean Special Forces soldiers.

Dr. Soong gave a stunned Harmon Rabb and equally surprised Sarah MacKenzie a faint smile.

"Good evening, Commander, Colonel. It's good to see you again."

*~*

Harm and Mac sat at a nearby table with Dr. Soong, while the two Korean bodyguards kept an eye on Saddiyah.

The Korean medical doctor gave the JAGs a pleasant smile. "I guess you're wondering what I'm doing here."

Harm looked back at the BRDM crews and the Special Forces soldiers that were talking with Saddiyah. "That would be an understatement," Harm said wryly.

Dr. Soong chuckled. "Well, our visit has to do with Pharmacist Mate Hazon…."

Mac leaned forward at the mention of Nick Hazon. "What does Saddiyah have to do with this? And why are those Special Operation Forces Anti-Terrorist troops guarding her?"

"Is she in danger?" Harm added.

"We're not sure," Soong said honestly, "But in light of his injuries and his importance to your case, we decided not to take any chances."

The Korean doctor reached into his zippered leg pocket and pulled out a tattered zippered pocket binder. "And there is this," he said handing it to the JAGs. "Shortly before he was taken to the Naval Medical Response Unit, he asked me to come see him in the Expeditionary Medical Facility."

Harm opened the tiny binder. Mac held it open as he began to leaf through it. "It's a diary…."

Dr. Soong nodded. "He knew that I worked regularly with the Thai nurses, so he told me to talk to Nurse Utadej about this diary…his diary…."

Harm and Mac traded encouraging looks.

"This is his?" Harm asked quietly, unable to believe their good luck.

"Yes." The Korean doctor leaned closer as if he was afraid someone was listening to their conversation. "I started looking through it and saw the entry for day Lieutenant Dodge was killed. I knew immediately that's why Corpsman Hazon had wanted me to talk to Nurse Utadej."

Harm quickly scanned the entry for the day Dodge was killed. He turned to Mac and then they both looked at the doctor.

All three turned and watched as Saddiyah played 'rock, paper, scissors' with her bodyguards and the Polish crewmen. They were trying their best to distract her from the fact it was late and there must be something wrong for them to bring her here at this time of night.

"Her parents…" Mac began.

"Are dead. The Korean doctor completed her sentence. "Her mother, a refugee from the Majnoon marsh area, died a few weeks ago. Her father was killed by Republican Guard troops during a sweep for militant Shiites a few years back." Soong said with a sad smile. "Because she had no family, Pharmacist Mate Hazon was going to adopt her. He had begun the appropriate paperwork."

"Did Hazon know her mother?" Mac asked.

"She and the Corpsman had struck up a friendship, but the woman was already suffering from years of malnutrition and had been weakened by the flu. She made him promise to take care of her daughter. He had Saddiyah staying temporarily at an orphanage in al-Nasiriyah until he could complete the necessary paperwork."

Mac could see the wheels turning in Harm's mind. "Doctor, was this woman in Mirbullah during the Marine assault?" she asked.

Soong thought about that for a long moment before answering. "Yes…," he said slowly as he mentally turned over the idea in his mind, "Yes, that is very possible…."

"Excuse me, Doctor, Commander." Mac got up from the table and walked over to where a giggling Saddiyah was enjoying the attention of her guardians. Protectively, one of the Special Forces soldiers stood up to block her way. The man looked at Mac and then at Dr. Soong.

The doctor gave the man an 'it's okay' signal, and the solider reluctantly stood aside.

Saddiyah and the others in the meantime had stopped their game. Saddiyah looked apprehensively at the female soldier.

Mac gave the girl a big friendly smile as she squatted down in front of her.

"Hello Saddiyah, my name is Sarah MacKenzie…./ Sayida ya Saddiyah, ism-i Sari MacKenzie…. "

Saddiyah looked around at her protectors as if needing reassurance. The men nodded that it was okay for her to talk to the American Marine. The Arab girl looked back at Mac apprehensively, still not convinced this was a good idea.

"Hello/Sayida" was the slight soft reply. She quickly looked down at her feet.

"Saddiyah, do you mind if I sit down next to you?"

The girl scooted over so Mac could sit next to her. Mac's heart broke at the fact that this girl was so wary of her. It was obvious that she didn't trust the Marine.

Mac bent over so she could see the girl's face. "Saddiyah, I need your help to catch the men who hurt Corpsman Hazon. Do you think you can help me?"

The girl gave a small nod. She looked up at Mac. "You want to help Nick?" she said her voice trembling, then put her head back down.

It took all of her Marine training not react emotionally to Saddiyah's anguished question.

"Yes, I do. I want to catch the men who did this to Nick"

That seemed to be the answer the girl was seeking. "Okay…." she looked up at Mac and smiled for the first time "Thank you,/Mutsakkira," she said quietly.

Harm watched from a distance as Mac continued to talk with Saddiyah. He saw Saddiyah's smile getting bigger as she continued talking with her. The aviator/lawyer knew his partner was good with children; after all she was Chloe Madison's 'big sister' and had befriended that Indonesian girl Lylyana. Watching Mac talk to this girl and seeing her open up to the Marine JAG attorney made it easy for Harmon Rabb, Jr. to imagine this was her child she was talking to. Mac's smile was so natural and maternal. It had obviously immediately put the girl at ease. He wondered if Mac wanted children…then he mentally slapped himself (…of course she did, that was a stupid thought).

Harm chuckled and shook his head at his mental slip-up but then another more serious thought interrupted his amusement. Given all that had passed between them in the last few years, would she still want to have his children? He hadn't stopped to think about that before. In the past, he had selfishly thought about having a boy and naming him Harm, to keep up the family tradition started by his father. Or having a little girl.

But in taking these first steps toward something more solid with Mac, he realized that really wasn't important. He would be just as happy with an adopted daughter. His mind replayed his meeting with that spunky kid, Mattie Grace. Something told him that Mattie was covering for an absent father. Maybe she was on her own and just didn't want

anybody to know.

My father's out on business right now, but you can talk with me….

I'm interested in the crop dusting job…

You don't look like a crop duster pilot to me…

Well, let's just say I need the money…

You ever flown a crop duster plane before?

Uh…no…but that Stearman in hanger #2 is mine….

He remembered how her eyes lit up when he mentioned the Naval trainer that he restored while recuperating from his SeaHawk ramp strike at Grams' farm. He thought back to how it was similar to the trainer his granddad had flown during World War II. Mattie, when her eyes sparkled, reminded him a lot of a younger version of what he imagined Mac must've looked like at that age. And her independent streak…he wondered what Mattie was doing right now…her father never seemed to be around when she was there. Just maybe he was never there at all.

Harm made up his mind that as soon as he got back to the States, he'd take a trip to Blacksburg.

"Saddiyah, do you remember the day the Marines came to Mirbullah?"

The girl looked over at Dr. Soong. Mac looked over at her partner who nodded for her to continue questioning the girl.

"Saddiyah, I promise you I will get those who hurt Corpsman Hazon…Nick. But in order to do that, I need to know, did you witness the battle that morning?"

A head nod.

Dr. Soong moved closer to Harm, nodding for Saddiyah to continue.

The girl's quiet voice was heavy with sadness. "My Mommy and I watched the battle from my bedroom window…."

Mac could barely believe what she was hearing. All this time they had been scouring the countryside for witnesses….

"What did you see, honey?/ Eh suft, mahbuba?" the Marine probed gently.

The little girl sighed and looked up at her with big brown eyes. "I saw the big American machines move into the square…."

Mac felt tears burning her eyes. "And then?"

The Marine JAG heard anger growing in this sweet child's voice. " And then the bad men started shooting, one of them ran into my bedroom and said he was protecting us from the American invaders." Mac could see the girl hadn't believed this thin ruse. " He ran away when they began shooting at him. He didn't even stop to help me and my Mommy get away from the fighting. He didn't care, none of them did. They only wanted to hurt the Americans."

Mac took in a soft breath. This child was only seven years old. She hated to ask this next question but for the sake of her client and Harm's client, she had to.

"Did you see the rest of the fighting?"

Saddiyah nodded her head again. " When the scared man left the room, we looked out the window again. We could see one of the big box tractors crashing through a courtyard wall. Uncle Nick told me later, he was rescuing some of his friends who had been hurt. Mommy told me he was a very brave man."

"What happened next?"

"The big flying machine tried to help the box tractor, but it was shot and hurt."

With each passing moment, the Marine Lieutenant Colonel knew she had found their key witness. It also put Saddiyah in mortal danger. Mac was torn between her duty to her client and protecting this child from any more of the harsh reality she'd already been exposed to. Still, right now, she was only eyewitness she and Harm had who was still able to talk. She forced her mind to deal with getting the information she needed. What the girl had just told the Marine was the key.

"Hurt by whom, Saddiyah?"

"A soldier, like the man in the box tractor, but he was firing a big gun…."

Lance Corporal Kayce Danvers' words came rushing back to her. "A big gun?" she repeated.

Saddiyah nodded.

The Marine JAG felt her heartbeat quicken. "Like a big rifle?"

Another nod.

There it was. Mac would have to show her the actual weapon to confirm her suspicions, but there was no doubt in the JAG attorney's mind. Saddiyah had seen a Marine firing a Barrett rifle at the Cobra gunship to force it to land.

There was only one thing more she needed. "Are you sure it was a Marine?"

"Yes./Aywa." Saddiyah looked around for a moment and then pointed at a Lance Corporal walking up to a HMMWV parked on the other side of the base road. "He looked just like him."

Everyone looked up at the Marine. The soldier snapped a quick salute. "Sorry, ma'am, sir, I didn't see you sitting there."

2200 Local

Mac had finished her conversation with Saddiyah and then had given her back to the Special Forces solders and Dr. Soong. After briefly talking with the doctor, she walked back over to where Harm was sitting.

"What did you learn, Mac?" he said casually.

"She saw who shot down the gunship. It was a Marine, Harm. Saddiyah saw a Marine sniper in one of those buildings firing on Lukens' and Buell's gunship."

Harm's sky blue eyes widened. "Is she sure? It could have been someone dressed as a Marine sniper…."

Her look told him to get real. "She witnessed the battle, Harm."

"The entire battle? Mac, she's in mortal danger. Someone is trying to kill any witnesses to the downing of that Cobra and the killing of Lieutenant Dodge."

Mac nodded somberly. "I know. I also know that Sturgis will rip her apart on the stand. Harm, after all she's been through, we can't do that to her."

"I know, Mac, I hate it too, but we don't have any other choice unless we find another witness…."

Mac knew that was true but she also knew the evidence they had at this moment. "We're running out of time, Navy," she cocked her head when she looked at his unreadable face. "Harm, what are you thinking?"

"Our only other hope is the man Khalil and Rafid told us about, Mac. I wish Rafid's lead had panned out."

She understood what he was saying, but she had to be the practical one. "Wishing won't make it happen, Sailor." She tried to soften her comment by touching his arm.

"Commander Rabb…"

The JAG attorneys turned to see Rafid Tlass approaching them.

The former Republican Guard tank gunner got right to the point. "He is visiting the village tomorrow evening,"

Mac gave Harm astonished look.

"Tomorrow evening?" The tall aviator/attorney repeated,

"Rafid, are you sure?" Mac asked.

The former Republican Guard tank gunner nodded.

"Haarm," she warned.

The Naval Commander was already halfway to the village…Mac could see it in his eyes. "Mac, I gotta do this…."

She could see he wasn't about to back down on this but she had to try. "Harm, you'll never make it back in time."

Harm pulled out his 'it's for the client's case' argument. "Mac we have to try…it may be our clients' last hope."

She fought the urge to grit her teeth. All that was missing from the Commander's persona right now was his flowing red cape. She tried to bring him back to earth. "Harm, remember the trial? We're supposed to decide on members for the trial. What do you want me to do?"

But he was already turning to leave with Rafid. "Stall but don't stall, Mac."

She gave him a bewildered and exasperated expression. "'Stall but don't stall'?"

The aviator/attorney nodded. "You're co-counsel, second chair, you can take care of this. Just trust me, Mac, please."

She folded her arms across her chest in an imitation of him. "You're making it hard, Commander."

He gave her that famous Rabb grin, hoping that would win her over to this idea. "It'll be worth it, Marine."

0024 Local

Harm was in the back seat of the Iraqi police car bouncing up and down and side to side as the car made it's way down the dusty road. The other three men in the car were silent, their faces only lit by the instrument panel of the car.

Harm could feel fatigue creeping up on him like a cat. He and Mac had been going hard all day. Maybe he'd just shut his eyes for a moment….

He found himself standing at parade rest in front of Admiral Chegwidden's desk.

"I'm bringing in an Assistant JAG, Rabb, AJ said evenly, "To help me with my daily duties in the office."

"Yes sir…." Why the Admiral had called him in to tell him this was a mystery. Why didn't he just announce the change at the morning staff meeting?

AJ pushed the intercom button. "Tiner, send her in…."

Her?

Harm turned to see who was coming in the door. Allison Krennick confidently strode in and snapped to attention in front of the Admiral.

Chegwidden nodded. "At ease Captain,"

AJ gave his bewildered senior attorney a wry smile. "Now you know why I wanted to brief you about this in private, Rabb."

"Uh, yes sir," His vision was beginning to swim. Of all people, why her?

Allison gave Harm an unsettling smirk.

"Good to see you again, Commander," she purred.

Harm felt his skin prickle. The aviator/attorney did his best to acknowledge her and appear happy about the situation. "Likewise…Captain."

If AJ saw any of this interaction between these two, he didn't let on that he did.

"Captain Krennick will immediately begin her duties as Assistant JAG," Admiral Chegwidden gave Harm a devilish looking smile. "She'll oversee all investigations and you'll report directly to her, Commander."

"I look forward to our meetings, Commander," she said in sultry voice. A sense of dread was creeping into Harm. The way her eyes focused on him was unlike anything Allison had ever done before. It was almost an animal-like look. Predatory.

"Dismissed," AJ said as he started looking through the stack of reports on his desk.

Both Harm and Allison brought themselves to attention and executed perfect about faces and headed for the door.

"I really am looking forward to our first meeting, Cher,"

Allison's whisper into his ear stood the hair on the nape of his neck on end. Cher?

"Yeah," Harm heard himself say in a weak voice, "Me too."

As Harm entered the bullpen, he saw the bullet riddled remains of Soldiers and Sailors scattered across the floor. Blood was spattered everywhere. He turned toward Allison and saw a completely different woman in Allison Krennick's uniform. Was it Darcy Livingston?

"What's the matter Cher? Does the sight of blood make you faint?"

"Harm! Get out of here!"

He turned to see Diane Schonke dressed in a bloody Marine Lieutenant Colonel's uniform cradling a very still Bud Roberts in her lap – his sightless eyes glared accusingly at Harm.

"This won't take a moment, Cher," Allison/Darcy drew her sidearm, flipped off the safety and expertly shot Diane execution style.

"Now we can have as much time together as we want." Harm was horrified to see Darcy Livingston in Krennick's blood spattered uniform. He looked down and saw Mac/Diane's face frozen in surprise, a single neat bullet hole in her forehead. Her bloody head was leaning back against a dead Shore Patrolman.

"Harm you gotta fight this…," Diane's voice was ringing in his ears. "She'll kill you Hammer…."

"She'll kill you, Hammer…."

Then Mac's voice jumped in. "She'll kill you, Hammer…."

"Hammer…."

Her voice took on different quality. "Hammer…."

Suddenly he was being violently thrown back and forth…he still couldn't see what was going on, but he heard his own voice respond as choking white smoke filled his vision.

"Missiles inbound..."

"Brace for impact..."

More smoke billowed into his face; it was getting difficult to breathe…

"Not now, Pete, I'm trying to keep her from shaking apart..."

A voice could be heard over the plane's radio.

"Eject! Eject! Eject!"

Then Harm heard his own voice again.

"Punch out, Pete! I'll join you in a minute!"

"Hammer, the ejection seat isn't working!"

Then he heard Mac scream. "OH DEAR GOD!"

Harm started as his head had managed to slip off his hand. The former Top gun shook himself and rubbed his face…he must've of dozed off….

"Commander, are you okay?" It was Rafid. The former tank man was giving Harm a curious look. The police car jolted again as it hit another rut. Officer Haskim al-Surah half-turned in his seat to look at the JAG Corps officer.

"Sorry, Commander Rabb, the road is very rough, washed out in places…." Haskim said apologetically as he tried to keep his eyes focused on the worsening road.

Harm remembered now. Khalil As'sam and Rafid Tlass had been able to get a lead on their contact. Officer al-Surah offered to drive them to the village. The last image he remembered was Mac standing at the side of the road watching them head off into the night. Or was that part of the dream too?

The JAG attorney's heart was still thundering, threatening to break out of his chest. Was it a dream or something else? The smoke…it had seemed…so real. And why was Diane there?

-TBC…


	47. Chapter 46

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 46

A/N1: Disclaimers and other vital information can be found in chapter story notes for …FMS

A/N2: **~~** indicates flashback ( ) indicates the thoughts of a person. *~* indicates a scene shift not otherwise indicated by a JAG time stamp.

A/N3: Thanks to my friend and beta Karen who is my sounding board and has helped me see this through. Kudoes to AeroGirl, Mkim, Soleil, TZ, Janlaw for providing their help and technical expertise. Also thanks to Lisa Griffon [Yahoo Shipper Group] for her continuing support.

0130 Zulu

Andrews AFB, Maryland

Tuesday

The giant Air Force C-5 transport lifted into the twilight DC sky. Tony and Faith were strapped in next to each other while Gibbs was strapped in a couple of seats down, amicably chatting with an Army Ranger.

Tony looked over at an obviously nervous Faith Coleman.

"How are you holding up, Commander?"

Faith kept her eyes focused straight ahead. "As well as can be expected, Agent DiNozzo, given the conditions….

She stole a glance at Gibbs now laughing and talking animatedly with two Army Rangers.

"How does he do that?" she said with mixture of admiration and disgust.

Tony was oblivious. "Do what?"

"Be so up and cheerful-" The plane rocked unceremoniously as it bulled its way through some turbulence. "-in these conditions?"

The former Baltimore homicide detective gave her a strained grin, as he too was having difficulty with the rocking plane.

"Gibbs? This is nothing for him. In fact, he likes the C-130's even better. He says these big planes are too much like commercial airliners for his tastes…."

"Somehow, I'm not surprised he would say that," she said gloomily.

Tony could see even in the plane's dim lighting that Faith looked decidedly green.

"You aren't going to blow chunks are you?" He asked cautiously.

The JAG liaison did her best to look more annoyed than nauseated. "No, I am not, as you so colorfully put it, 'going to blow chunks'. I took some Dramamine before we left the ground…."

"Have you got any more?"

Faith's eyes widened.

"Kidding Commander, just kidding." Tony said with that laid-back smile on his face. "Boy, you need to relax…."

"I am relaxed," she replied testily. "I'd be more relaxed if this plane would stop rocking."

"If this is you relaxed, I'd hate to see you tense and nervous," he quipped. "Why don't you try and get some shut eye? We've got a long trip ahead of us…." Tony tried to settle down a little more in his stiff seat. He didn't want her to know that this wallowing whale was making him queasy too.

2247 Local

Kansas City International Airport

Kansas City, Missouri

The C-130 transport banged onto the tarmac. AJ looked at his watch. After getting his rental car and driving to the hotel near the prison, it would be too late to do what he needed to do. However, he'd get up early tomorrow so he would have the entire morning to devote to his task.

The images of Coates, Tiner, Imes and Givers lying unmoving in their sterile hospital beds swam before his eyes again. They were what made this trip imperative. If this deal that he and the SecNav had brokered with Theodore Lindsey backfired, he would retire.

0021 Local

Somewhere over the Atlantic

Tony DiNozzo was still trying to find a comfortable spot on his rock hard bench seat. He decided this might be a lost cause and instead concentrated on reading through Gibbs' copy of Commander Theodore Lindsey's so-called audit report on JAG Corps.

(Man this little guy really did have an axe to grind….) Tony thought back to the day when he questioned Lindsey about Lieutenant Singer and learned it had been him who had killed Loren Singer, not Rabb. It's hard to believe someone like him would be capable of murder, but hey, who knew?

He had heard about this infamous report but at the time it hadn't really figured into the case at all.

The former Baltimore police detective's eyebrows shot up as he read about the supposed exploits of Admiral Chegwidden's two senior attorneys. (Man this is good stuff…wonder how much of it is made up?)

Tony looked up from the page for a moment to see his boss standing over him. "Interesting reading, DiNozzo?"

Tony gave Gibbs an ear to ear grin. "You said it. Say Boss, you don't suppose I could get a copy…."

Gibbs' granite stare stopped Tony in mid-comment.

Tony's embarrassed eyes slid to the floor. "Yeah, I don't need a copy of this."

Faith watched the interaction between the two NCIS Agents with detached interest. This was definitely a "boys club" that she'd been thrown into. She thought she had a pretty good idea why Vivian Blackadder had requested a transfer out of this unit. At least it seemed to be a plausible explanation, given what she had witnessed so far, as one of the JAG-NCIS liaisons assigned to NCIS Headquarters and on this assignment, in particular.

Agent DiNozzo was a real puzzle. He had a knack for knowing how criminals think and his assumptions about bad guys were rarely wrong. Tony had known that Commander Lindsey was guilty and he had been able to pull out of the Commander his involvement in Lieutenant Singer's death, thus exonerating her client, Harmon Rabb. And yet… Gibbs' senior agent had this frat boy attitude that was so infuriating…but she had to admit, he also did have a certain charm.

Then there was Gibbs. He was abrupt, all business, stubborn, and fiercely independent. And yet, the more she worked with him, the more she wanted to know more about him. What was it about this former Marine that intrigued her so?

As she pondered that disturbing thought (was it so disturbing?) she opened her zippered binder again and checked her pencils, then smoothed her memo pad and examined her calendar once more. This was only the seventh time she had done this since they came on board. She was surprised that Tony hadn't made some kind of crack about her doing this. Maybe reading Commander Lindsey's hatchet job was keeping him too occupied to engage in his usual witticisms.

Even more of an enigma was Commander Rabb. She figured once he had been cleared of those murder charges he'd keep his nose to the grindstone, so to speak. But as soon as Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie had been selected for that CIA Operation in Paraguay, the Commander began making discrete and not so discreet inquiries about that black operation.

That the SecNav and the CIA stalled him, refusing to give the Commander any information was really no surprise to her. In her mind, Rabb should have known that he was risking a showdown with Admiral Chegwidden the more he poked and prodded.

After a few days of proverbially butting his head against an immovable object, the Commander seemed to accept the fact that he had learned all he was going to learn. Then the Admiral pulled Commander Rabb into his office for a closed-door meeting. The rumor-mill around the bullpen went into overdrive. Word soon leaked out that Colonel MacKenzie and the CIA Operative she was with had missed their last radio check.

Through their contacts with MTAC and Colonel Bushnell's team in Cuidad del Este, Faith and Jack learned that the Colonel and CIA Agent Clayton Webb had gone on an unauthorized mission to rescue Gunnery Sergeant Victor Galindez. It seems the Gunny, who was supposed to be on Embassy duty in Asunción, had been captured by Al-Qaeda operatives lead by Sadik Fahd. Then all three of them had disappeared.

Bushnell's team had been told to write them off and concentrate on locating the Stinger missiles that Sadik had hidden somewhere in the Chaco Boreal.

Commander Rabb's efforts to find out what had happened to them became more frantic.

Then abruptly, the Commander resigned his commission and dropped from sight. Almost immediately scuttlebutt began flying. One rumor said that the Commander had become despondent over the Colonel's disappearance, had attempted suicide and rather than face a medical discharge, had resigned. Another had him 'unofficially' leading a rescue team, but in order to have plausible deniability' he had to resign. Still another said he'd had a showdown with either the SecNav, Admiral Chegwidden or the SecDef, resigned and turned mercenary.

There were many others, some too strange and fantastic to believe, but all of them had a common thread; that Commander Rabb had resigned his commission.

She picked up her copy of Commander Lindsey's 'report' that Admiral Chegwidden had sent to her. She had to wonder given the fireworks and tension between the Colonel and the Commander if some small part of the report was based in reality. In particular, the parts where the Commander and Colonel were concerned. Faith was determined to find that out for herself.

0330 Local

West of Mirbullah, Iraq

"There he is Commander,"

Harm focused his Starlite night scope on the figure Haskim was pointing to.

They had been sitting out here on the outskirts of this village for nearly three hours watching for the man Khalil and Rafid said had planned the March ambush in Mirbullah. The Commander had begun to think this was another dead-end lead.

He was glad it wasn't. In the early morning gloom, Harm could barely make out the figure making his way toward a lighted home.

In his mind, the former Top Gun wasn't really sure how this would play out, all he knew was that if this man was who Khalil and Rafid claimed he was, then his clients might get their freedom and reputations back without Saddiyah having to take the stand.

Now all they had to do was find a way to capture him…and make him talk.

0630 Local [less than an hour from Baghdad]

Wednesday

Leroy Jethro Gibbs hadn't slept. He couldn't and not because of the plane's rocking motions. As the plane plowed through the early morning sky, his mind kept going back to his most recent conversation with Commander Harmon Rabb about Sedrick Phillips.

"Agent Gibbs, I need your help…."

"And why should I help you Commander?"

"Because if you don't a pair of innocent men are going to be tried and sentenced for murder due to sloppy investigative techniques."

"Whose sloppy investigative techniques?"

"The NCIS field agent who investigated the death of combat engineer Phillip M. Dodge, 36th MEU. I have reason to believe he may be involved in a cover-up to throw us off the scent of the real killer."

His old partner, Jenny Shepard, had recommended to Gibbs that he put Sedrick in line for the Baghdad post. The man knew the language, the customs, and even had Iraqi friends in his native Detroit neighborhood.

So what went wrong?

His own words came back to haunt him.

"Someone got to him Tony…, offered him a lot of money to look the other way during a JAGMAN investigation."

Now the Senior NCIS Agent was wondering how could have made this mistake. Was it his fault? Sure it was. He had personally vouched for Sedrick's abilities to Director Morrow when the post opened up. It had seemed such a natural fit.

It angered him that Sedrick had betrayed his trust. The man had managed to fool him, Jenny, Director Morrow, and God knows how many other people.

All for a little financial security. And maybe…maybe something else.

Gibbs didn't like what he was thinking.

0730 Local

Baghdad International Airport

Baghdad, Iraq

Tony stumbled as he tried to keep up with his boss and Commander Coleman. They seemed unaffected by the red-eye flight (Must be that military training…) the former Baltimore detective grumbled to himself.

His back was still sending him hate messages, not liking that stiff airplane seat one bit.

As they walked out of the deplaning area, they were met by two Marine Corps officers. A Major and a Captain. Before the saluting protocol could begin, Gibbs flipped out his ID badge.

"Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS. This is Special Agent DiNozzo."

"Sirs," the men returned evenly. Then they saluted Coleman. "Commander,"

Faith returned their salute. "Commander Faith Coleman, JAG Corps-"

"-We're conducting a joint investigation into the terrorist attack on JAG Corps Headquarters," said Gibbs tersely before Faith could say anything else.

Major Vince Barnett gave the silver haired NCIS Agent a tight smile. "Special Agent Gibbs, your reputation precedes you. I trust you'll also be working with Commander Rabb's team as well. I'm Major Vince Barnett SJAG Liaison from the 2nd Marines and this is Captain Floyd Johnson, SJAG Liaison to 36th MEU."

"We'll contact Rabb's team as necessary," Faith broke in, "But we won't delay the trial proceedings, Major."

Vince turned to the JAG Corps officer. "Begging your pardon ma'am, but I don't see how that's possible. You see, there have already been several murders and attempted murders related to this trial."

"What did you say?" Gibbs said taking back control of the conversation.

Vince Barnett and Floyd Johnson exchanged confused looks. "You weren't informed about the other murders, sir?"

"No, I wasn't," Gibbs almost said almost growling.

"Uh, Well, uh, sir, Barnett stammered, "We figured Special Agent Phillips had kept you informed-"

Gibbs gave the two SJAG liaisons a cold DI stare. "Well, he hasn't Major; that's why I'm here."

1240 Zulu

NCIS Headquarters

Washington Navy Yard

Anacostia

Special Agent Timothy McGee made his way slowly to the part of the NCIS bullpen reserved for Special Agent Gibbs' team. He had been down at the Norfolk office for less than two months having just recently graduated from MIT, so it was a real surprise to him when his superior told him to report to Special Agent Pacci at NCIS Headquarters.

For Tim, this was the chance of a lifetime. He made his way into the bullpen area, looking around, awe-struck at the cubicles of NCIS' best investigative team. Boy, what he wouldn't give to work in this office-

"You must be the guy they sent up from Norfolk," said a gruff voice interrupting his thoughts.

"Uh, yeah," Tim said a little flustered. "I'm, uh, Special Agent Tim-"

"I know who you are," Pacci said brusquely. "Go sit over there," he said pointing to Special Agent DiNozzo's desk, "and I'll be with you in a moment…."

Tim nodded dumbly and walked over to Tony's desk and sat down.

Chris Pacci disgustedly shook his head. As if the terrorist attack on JAG Corps Headquarters and this Voss investigation wasn't giving him enough headaches, now he had to deal with a Probie from Norfolk. He sure hoped Gibbs knew what he was doing bringing him into the office.

0830 Local

U.S. Disciplinary Barracks

Fort Leavenworth, Kansas

Wednesday, 9 July

AJ Chegwidden sat at the table waiting for the prisoner to arrive.

Outside the room, the JAG could hear the ominous clang and bang of cell doors being opened and closed. The air was heavy with antiseptic cleanser, cigarette smoke, sweat, and other odors familiar to a prison.

In the back of his mind, AJ wondered if this was the right thing to do. Sure, in those sessions with the SecNav it seemed to make sense, but sitting here in an interview room, did it really seem logical to trust a convicted murderer?

AJ wondered about that. As he pondered that corundum, the door to the room opened and former Commander Theodore Lindsey, (now Ensign Theodore Lindsey) was lead inside by a Navy prison guard.

Lindsey, dressed in an orange jumpsuit and wearing ankle bracelets, sat down facing the JAG. Except for his lack of a uniform, he still looked to be same obsequious, bumbling, basically harmless political hack that he had always been.

That is, a political hack that had committed murder and then tried to frame Commander Rabb for it. It was still unbelievable to AJ. A political hack? Sure. A cold-blooded killer? Even he had a hard time believing this man had killed Loren Singer in cold blood.

Maybe in some strange way that explained why the SecNav had made a deal with Lindsey.

"Hello Admiral," Teddy Lindsey's voice was friendly, amicable. "Good to see you again, sir." He stuck out his hand for a friendly handshake.

AJ couldn't believe the gall of this man. "I'm not here on a social visit," the JAG said brusquely, ignoring the man's outstretched hand. "And you're still in the Navy, Ensign, so I expect you to give me the respect due my rank."

Ensign Lindsey smiled benignly as he lowered his hand. Then he stood ram rod straight and gave a crisp salute. "You're absolutely right *sir*," he said with just a hint of sarcasm and veiled contempt. "What can I do for you, *sir*?

AJ noted the question and its attendant 'sirs' were supposed to appear on the surface to be respectful and maybe a tad nervous about that previous breach in protocol, but the JAG knew better.

But he wasn't fazed. "Ensign, I know you think you're making amends by working with us on the Dodge murder case, but I haven't forgotten what you tried to do to my staff and what you did to Lieutenant Singer. God knows she wasn't the perfect person, but she didn't deserve to die like that," AJ said evenly looking Lindsey straight in the eye, "You're not making any points with me, Mr. Lindsey."

Theodore Lindsey gave the man another benign smile shaking his head as he sat down without permission. "Same ole by the book Albert Jethro Chegwidden," the man said in a disgusted voice as the smile leaked from his face. "Points toward what, Admiral? My early release?"

Ensign Lindsey gave the Admiral a pleading glance. "Look, I freely admit that was poor judgment on my part writing that report the way I did. I admit I was jealous-"

AJ leaned closer to him. "And were you jealous of Lieutenant Singer too, Ensign? Is that why you killed her?"

"Lieutenant Singer was feeding me information on your office, sir. And she offered to help me get my job back and then make me Assistant JAG when you were fired and she replaced you. I was initially grateful for the opportunity…"

(Grateful?) AJ couldn't believe what he was hearing.

Teddy Lindsey continued with his lie. "Yes sir, I know it was wrong, but she was so…so persuasive…."

Now AJ Chegwidden felt white-hot anger floating to the surface of his emotions. "I should have had you keel-hauled." AJ growled.

He'd never let Lindsey or anyone else know that he agreed with the fact that Lieutenant Singer could be…very persuasive. It's probably why he let Singer do the intelligence briefings during the Atef Affair. Also though, part of him wanted her to see what happens when you exceed your authority as SecNav Nelson did in authorizing that manhunt first for Mustapha Atef and then for his brother Kabir using JAG personnel.

Before she had disappeared, he thought he might have gotten through to her. But then she got pregnant and now, with the information Lindsey had just given him, he wasn't so sure he'd gotten through to her at all. That made the JAG even angrier.

Lindsey in the meantime was glad he had hurt AJ. He gave the JAG a cold stone-faced stare. "Well you did about as good, because I'm here for life AJ, so why did you come to see me?"

"Ensign, you were told before that if you cooperate with us, there might be a chance you could get out. I came to make sure you understood that agreement."

Lindsey gave him a sneering smirk. "Sure, I understand. I keep my mouth shut so you and Secretary Sheffield can pull off whatever subterfuge you two are trying to pull off."

AJ's eyes blazed as pinned the Ensign with a furious stare. "Now you listen to me you miscreant! We're trying to keep four attorneys from being killed and keep an entire MEU from being wiped out!"

Theodore Lindsey just leaned back in his chair and smiled. It felt good to be in the driver's seat for once. "Let me guess…this has something to do with Harmon Rabb, right?"

AJ had gotten his anger back under control. "Tell me something, Ensign, why do you hate us so much? Why did you file that original report?"

Teddy got up from his chair and walked over toward the wall. "Hate? No hate is too mild a word for what I feel. I despise you, your whole freak show staff and especially ole Dudley Do-Rabb because he could do no wrong in your eyes. No sir, not ole Harmon."

AJ was stunned into silence. He had never seen this side of Theodore Lindsey before. How long had he been harboring this anger?

Lindsey turned around. "You still don't get it, do you? After Admiral Brovo was kicked upstairs, I did my damnedest to get into your favor! I did everything you requested of me and more. I even got that dullard Bud Roberts' brother, Mikey, into the Naval Academy! And for what? Did you help me when I wanted a lousy promotion to Captain? No, because I couldn't rise to your precious standards! I was always Teddy Lindsey, the bumbling political hack to you, Krennick and Austin!"

Then as if his outburst had never happened, Theodore Lindsey sat back down and gave a shaken AJ a pleasant, almost friendly, smile. "Rabb, the Navy's poster boy…lands damaged F-14s with ease…he was your silver bullet. And I couldn't hold a candle to him in your eyes and neither could Austin and Krennick…especially Krennick who, by the way, had her own designs on your chair. So when Rabb was accused of Diane Schonke's murder, Austin and Krennick gave you the perfect opportunity to get rid of them, because they bent the rules…too much for your liking, even though they got your fair haired boy off. It was the perfect opportunity to send all three of us out of there and bring in those two nerds, Roberts and Tiner. Am I right? Am I hitting close to home?"

Now it was AJ's turn to smile. "You couldn't be more wrong, *Ensign*. I *did* appreciate what Austin and Krennick did. Austin though, was more of techno-wizard and investigator than court lawyer, so when she asked for reassignment to the field, I understood. And as for Krennick, I knew what she wanted. So I granted her wish and bumped her up in the chain of command so she could eventually fulfill her fondest desire – if her libido didn't get in the way."

The JAG stood up. "As for you, well actually, you're right, it gave me the perfect opportunity to send you somewhere else. AJ gave Ensign Lindsey a grin that was not the least bit friendly. "You know son, I didn't know Admiral Brovo that well, but we did get a chance to talk one time and what he told me made me glad I transferred you out of my command. I think we're done here."

Theodore Lindsey had overplayed his hand. He tried one last attempt to rattle AJ Chegwidden.

"I'm sorry you feel that way sir, I think I could really have benefited being under your command."

AJ had turned to leave. He was about to call the guard when Lindsey threw out that last comment. The JAG stood silently for a moment before turning back to the man. He wanted to be sure Lindsey understood the consequences of messing up this operation by trying to grandstand. AJ had a thoughtful look on his face, but his voice was deadly calm and menacing.

"Not nearly as sorry as you're going to feel if you screw this up or betray us. If you foul this up or sabotage this job, Ensign Lindsey, and get those attorneys of mine killed over there, I promise you there isn't a prison made that will keep you from me. I'm a SEAL Ensign, and I will become your worst nightmare. I don't make idle threats."

Lindsey felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. Still he tried to show an air of bravado. "So you'll put me in prison for a little longer…you don't scare me AJ, you can't do anything. Sheffield is watching you like a hawk. One slip and you're out."

Teddy had expected unbridled anger or even the Admiral to haul off and hit him. AJ just chuckled and shook his head. Then he looked directly into the Ensign's eyes. "Well, I should scare you, Ensign, because in eleven months I plan on retiring as JAG. And that means I'll have all my free time to devote just to you. You'll learn what the Viet Cong did, son." The Admiral turned to go then stopped and looked back with a thoughtful countenance. "I always keep my promises…just ask Gayle Osborne. Have a good morning, Ensign."

"Guard!" AJ's bark made Teddy Lindsey flinch but not nearly so much as did the former SEAL's threat.

1745 Local

Batchelor Officer Quarters

Camp Chesty Puller

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Mac looked over at the thick document that Clay had faxed to her…other than looking at the cover, she hadn't really opened it up and examined it. Part of what made her not want to do that was that she needed to get ready for the trial proceedings in the morning.

But the other reason was looking at this document dredged up powerful conflicting feelings she had about CIA Special Agent Clayton Webb. Harm was right; Paraguay had messed with all of them and when Harm told her he was going after Sadik, she retaliated by moving in 'to take care' of Clay.

That was a mistake.

She couldn't take that back but she really did want to be able to repay Clay for trying to protect her from the maniac Sadik. As far as she was concerned, his getting Harm out of the CIA Air Corps made them even.

So why did he send them this report?

Mac sighed and picked up the document. She paged through it—there was nothing special here. It was just your standard threat assessment for the Mirbullah region for this month. Nothing to concern themselves with. Then she looked again at the cover and the hastily scribbled note Clay had scrawled across the top of the page:

Mr. Green – 202-555-7071 – DSD

Now what Harm had suggested earlier didn't seem so farfetched. Clay could only be referring to…the Defense Securities Division…Clark Palmer's old agency that she and Harm had tangled with before. It was well known that DSD had been dismantled by the SecDef and SecJus. This being done after Harm and Mac had successfully proved in court that DSD had been involved in coercing Marine Colonel Ronald Vickers to fire nerve gas munitions at 'Somali warlords' which ended up killing UN Observers.

So why was Clay giving her the phone number for a defunct federal agency?

Unless that agency wasn't defunct.

That sent a shiver up her spine. Mac, up to this point, had placated Harm by saying she believed his theory, even though she really didn't believe Darcy could be DSD.

Now, she wasn't so sure. Even more unsettling, if Darcy was an agent or working with the agency, it was possible that Jac Lewis could also be DSD. There was only one way to find out.

Mac reached over and picked up her phone, punching in the number.

There were a series of clicks as well as what sounded like computer feedback on the line, then a harsh voice picked up.

"Green,"

Mac replied in her best Marine attorney voice.

"Mr. Green this is Colonel MacKenzie, JAG Corps, I need three minutes of your time."

There was a pregnant pause on the other end. Mac almost thought she had been disconnected.

"How did you get this number?"

Mac smiled (Thank you Clay) "Let's just say a friend of a friend let me have access to it."

The voice at the other end was cold. "I don't believe I have any information that will be of interest to you or to the Judge Advocate General, Colonel. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm a very busy man-"

The Marine Lieutenant Colonel put the full weight of twelve years of Marine and legal training and experience into her next words. "Mr. Green before you hang up, you were the supervisor for Special Agent Clark Palmer, were you not?"

There was another pregnant pause.

The voice that answered now sounded grudgingly awed. "You do your homework Colonel, I'm impressed." Then it became harsh and cold again. "Now what do you want?"

Anyone else would have hesitated at that point. But the Marine JAG had a mission. "Did Major Darcy Livingston work for you in October 2001? Was she involved in a DSD operation in Afghanistan at that time?"

Mr. Green's response was quick and curt. "I've never heard of Colonel Livingston. And DSD was not involved in any operations in Afghanistan or anywhere else for that matter at that time, Colonel. Now if you're done wasting my time-"

His verbal slip confirmed what she thought. He did know Darcy and her current rank. But she wasn't about to let him know that. Now she had to find out if her theory about Captain Lewis was true.

"Mr. Green I still have two minutes and sixteen seconds left. In October 2001, did a 1st Lieutenant Jac Lewis of the 34th MEU work on a DSD operation in Afghanistan?"

This time his response was not as quick. Mac had struck a nerve.

"Mr. Green?" she prodded.

"Colonel I can neither confirm nor deny the information you have regarding Captain Jacques Lewis."

Mr. Green knew his current rank as well – he'd been keeping tabs on both.

The Marine attorney decided a verbal jab might cause him to make another slip. "Mr. Green, you sound suspiciously like you work for the CIA."

Green's disdain was obvious. "Colonel, I work for the Department of Justice. We do not carry out joint missions with the CIA, only with Department of Defense Liaisons."

Now she had him.

"Did the Defense Security Division carry out an operation in Afghanistan in October of 2001?" She asked again. This time more forcefully.

His answer was pure agency doubletalk. "Colonel, lots of agencies carried out operations in Afghanistan that month. The President ordered all US agencies into the field with the expressed purpose of destabilizing the Taliban government and locating Al-Qaeda safe houses and strongholds. Besides the agency you're talking about doesn't exist anymore. We're the Defense Security Directorate."

Another slip. This man obviously wasn't used to talking to attorneys. DSD was back different name, same modus oprandi.

"So the answer is yes?"

"Look, Colonel, I've told you all that I can."

(That's the end of that pipeline of information) she thought.

Then Green seemed to have a change of heart. "If you want to know more, you'll have to talk to Special Agent Albruzzo."

The Marine Lieutenant Colonel realized that DSD most likely knew about the Mirbullah investigation and wanted to disassociate themselves from any rogue agents as quickly and cleanly as possible.

Mac grabbed for a pencil and her notepad. "Special Agent Albruzzo?"

"Yes."

Mr. Green gave her a cell phone number.

"And now your three minutes are up. Goodbye, Colonel."

Mac sat listening to the dial tone for a few minutes as her mind processed this treasure trove of unexpected information Mr. Green had just given to her. Now she and Harm had confirmation that Darcy Livingston and Jacques Lewis weren't the good guys they claimed to be. Not enough to go to court with, but the circumstantial evidence was building.

0937 Local

U.S. Disciplinary Barracks

Fort Leavenworth, Kansas

The guard sat Clark Palmer down facing the JAG. Then he turned to the Admiral.

"If you need me, sir, I'll be right outside," he indicated.

AJ gave the man a paternal smile. "I'll be fine, Corporal," AJ said quietly, "But thanks for your concern."

The guard nodded his understanding. "Aye, sir."

When the guard had shut the door, former Special Agent Clark Palmer began smiling.

"I'd wipe that smile off your face if I were you, Palmer. You aren't going to like this." AJ rumbled.

Palmer keeping the grin on his face leaned back in his chair. "Oh, I'm not worried about what the Navy's SEAL JAG has to say to me. I've had my time shortened for good behavior, you know."

AJ gave the man a sardonic smirk and folded his arms. "That's right; you, or should I say Harmon Rabb, has that big offshore bank account that keeps you smiling, right? What are you thinking about doing Palmer? Bribing the guards? Taking a little trip?"

Palmer's smile melted. "How did you—how could you know?"

"I keep close tabs on my people, Mr. Palmer. The moment I heard a Swiss bank account had been opened in Commander Rabb's name, I began looking into it, you not only opened an offshore account but an unnumbered Swiss bank account as well…that's quite a pile of money you've got in there…."

"That's my money you washed up old salt!" he hissed dangerously, "You can't touch-"

AJ held up a hand to calm him. "I said that was *Commander Rabb's* money, Mr. Palmer, you can't have a Swiss or even offshore bank account."

Palmer's furious look morphed into a congenial smile. "Oh, I get it. You want to make a deal, right, Mr. SEAL?"

"Now you're talking, Palmer," AJ said conspiratorially. The JAG really had no intention of making any deals with the former DSD agent, but he needed to know more about who Rabb and MacKenzie were up against. If Livingston or Lewis, or both of them were former or active DSD, this could explain a lot.

"Okay, Admiral, what kind of deal do you want to make?"

Chegwidden had heard from Rabb that Clark Palmer was a dangerous individual, not to be trusted. The fact that he accepted this 'arrangement' so easily meant that the former DSD agent had no intention of honoring any agreement made, and would most likely kill the Admiral the first chance he got.

AJ decided to get right to the point. "I just need information on a couple of people…"

Palmer whistled and shook his head. "Information's costly, AJ…it is all right if I call you AJ, right? I mean, we are making this deal on friendly terms, aren't we?"

"Absolutely," the JAG said in warm friendly tone, "Unless you don't think I'm trustworthy…."

Clark Palmer's laugh made AJ's skin crawl. "You're the Marine Corps-Navy JAG! If I can't trust you, who can I trust?"

AJ chuckled shaking his head, "You've got a point."

"Besides, AJ, you hold all the cards…." The Admiral knew if he let his guard down with this man for a moment, he was dead.

The JAG nodded. "That may be true, Mr. Palmer, but you have information that I need."

"You've got me there, AJ. So, how can I help the Marine Corps-Navy JAG?"

"What do you know about Lieutenant Colonel Darcy Livingston?"

Clark Palmer smiled malignantly while shaking his head and clucking his tongue. "AJ, AJ, AJ. We haven't discussed a price yet. First let's get the price dickering out of the way, then we can talk intel."

"Okay, what's your price?"

Palmer's smile evaporated. "The Swiss bank account…no questions asked."

AJ smiled back at this malignant rat and ducked his head as he pushed himself back from the table in order to stand. "That's too rich for me. I can find my intel elsewhere. There are lots of other DSD agents in here-"

"Half the account." Palmer countered.

"Still too rich." AJ snapped his briefcase shut and began to move away from the table.

"Okay, okay, a third of the account. You can keep the rest for your 'retirement account' courtesy of Harmon Rabb, Jr." AJ could tell he had the worm. Palmer wanted that money…bad.

The JAG stopped and turned and sat back down. "All right, Mr. Palmer, a third of the account. As for the rest of the money, I'm not interested. Now what do you know about Lieutenant Colonel Darcy Livingston?"

The former DSD agent was not done dickering yet. "Not just yet AJ. I need you to put this in writing first, and have it signed by you."

AJ affected a weary sigh. "Fine." He opened his briefcase, took out a legal pad and pencil, and began scribbling an agreement. He finished by writing his signature with a dramatic flourish. Then he ripped the page off the tablet and handed it to the man.

"There, now what do you know about the woman?" he said with just the right amount of impatience in his gravelly voice.

Clark Palmer smiled that greasy smile of his as he took the paper, folded it into a small square, and stuck it in his breast pocket.

"Absolutely nothing AJ, ole buddy, never heard of her. Next question."

The JAG was incredulous. "Nothing?" His bark only made Palmer's smile grow wider.

"What are you so riled up for AJ? Is she somebody important?" Suddenly the former DSD agent gave Admiral Chegwidden a look of mock concern. "Is she bothering your precious attorneys?"

The urge to grab this snake and throw him across the room repeatedly into the cell wall was overwhelming, but AJ didn't give in to the man's taunting, he just smirked.

"She's just a person of interest, Palmer." He said calmly. (C'mon you snake, make a goof….)

"Well, considering the company she keeps, I'd say she's more than a person of interest…"

This was the break AJ was looking for. "How so?" he said playing dumb.

Palmer winked at him. Well, since we're buddies and all, I guess I can tell you…the Colonel keeps company with a former associate of mine, Jacques Lewis…."

(Bingo!)"Who's Jacques Lewis?"

"Ole Jacques was a member of the Marine Mobile Training Teams in Columbia. I was assigned to assess his eligibility as a liaison to DSD and the Bradenhurst Corporation. You know…weapons testing, that sort of thing." he said with a sly grin. "The kid had real talent and showed real potential…was a crack shot with a rifle, knew his explosives, and loved conducting interrogations."

"Glad he was such a perfect fit," AJ said sarcastically, "So he worked with DSD?"

Palmer nodded. "Sure, Lewis worked with us…but we had to kick him loose. The guy was *unstable*. You know, I think he's a psycho."

The JAG shook his head. "That's high praise coming from someone like you Palmer,"

Clark Palmer shook his head. "You've been listening too much to Commander Rabb's ramblings about me being this psychotic 'wet boy'." The former DSD agent leaned toward the Admiral and whispered. "Personally if you ask me, I think ole Harmon has been reading too many of his action hero comic books. I was just a sweeper for my agency. I did my job like I was supposed to."

"Just your everyday average assassin, Palmer? No thrill killings on the side just for fun?"

Palmer waved his hand dismissively. "Oh you mean Special Agent Candella. The man was a loose cannon, out for himself; I did the CIA a favor by getting rid of that opportunist…."

"How patriotic of you," AJ said with barely concealed contempt.

Palmer didn't notice. He was too busy justifying his actions. "That 'rogue DSD agent' stuff is just that—stuff. It was ruse designed to throw off foreign intelligence who had planted a mole in our group."

"Who you, of course, eliminated."

Palmer shook his head again, this time with a look of mock sadness on his face. "Sadly no, that's why I remain here and the Defense Services Directorate, I mean, the Defense Security Division, was publicly dissolved."

"What do you mean 'publicly dissolved'?"

"Think about it, AJ, government departments and agencies are being dissolved and reformed all the time. I mean, does the SecJus really speak that often with the SecNav? That's how Nelson got gutted. With intel from our guys on the ground who just happened to pass along info to the Director of the CIA. That was some testimony he and Deputy Director Kershaw gave at Sheffield's congressional inquiry panel, wasn't it?"

Now it was the JAG's turn to lean forward. "Are you saying Kershaw and Sheffield are responsible for gutting Nelson?" With DSD help?"

Palmer chuckled and shook his head. "There you go again, AJ, jumping to conclusions. It's not as black and white as that, but I will tell you that DSD did provide some of the essential intel."

The former SEAL wondered if Sheffield's deal with Rabb also meant that he was being loaned out to the DSD as well. He inwardly shuddered at that idea and quickly put it out of his mind.

"So is DSD still active?" he said trying to sound casual as he probed about the less than ethical agency's continued existence.

Palmer nodded. "Oh yes, very active. Of course now we're on a tighter leash, more oversight, kinda like your office, AJ."

Now Clark Palmer was trying to rattle him. The JAG though, had dealt with many dangerous animals like this man.

"Everyone is under tighter oversight after those hearings, Palmer," The JAG said dismissively. "And the reason you're here is not because you didn't catch some phantom mole, it's because you tried to kill the Commander when he was helping Sergeant Major Krohn. They already had enough on you from the Bradenhurst fiasco to put you away for life, but your attempt on Rabb got you consecutive life terms that ensure you'll never get out of prison."

"I beg to differ with you, Admiral, you helped me get my Swiss bank account back and now it's only a matter of time…you know I really hated that Commander Parker got herself killed. I always wanted to do that myself. Really twist the knife in ole Rabb's guts by having him watch…as a bonus. But I guess I could always go talk to Rabb and MacKenzie after I get out. Is he still mooning over that Jarhead in your office, AJ? You know, I never have understood what Rabb saw in that lady. Maybe I ought to just fix that little problem for him. What do you think, Admiral?"

The JAG just smiled that deadly smile of his that was reserved for someone that had royally screwed up. "Take a closer look at the signature on the agreement, Palmer," he said quietly.

"Oh come on, AJ," the former DSD agent scoffed, "that's the oldest trick in the book…you really think I'd fall for that?"

The former SEAL continued smiling "Go ahead, Mr. Palmer," he motioned to the pocket that held his agreement, "Look closer at the signature…."

Clark Palmer yanked the paper out of his pocket and hurriedly unfolded it, scanning the document for the JAG's signature. "What?" he roared as he looked from the JAG's nameplate on his breast pocket to the document and back again, "Alfred Jimbo *Chigwedden*?"

AJ had spelled all three names wrong just for good measure, but the former DSD agent could only see his last name on the plate. The JAG snapped his briefcase closed. "I'm afraid our deal is null and void, Mr. Palmer," He began to pull at the listening device he was wearing, "And I'm sure the Warden will be happy to know about those guards you just told me about…"

Palmer sat dumbfounded for a moment then began clapping. "Wow, AJ, I am impressed! Boy, you are good! And here I thought you were just Papa Smurf watching over Conspiracy Smurf, Nerdy Smurf, and Sexy Smurfette…."

"A lot of people underestimate me, Mr. Palmer." the SEAL said softly.

"Too bad you can't save Rabb from himself," the man snorted, "Where is he anyway? Off on another one of his conspiracy fantasy trips or looking for another long lost relative?"

AJ gave the man a disgusted look. "We're finished with this little talk."

Palmer stood up menacingly. "We're not done yet 'Admiral'! I'll get Rabb and MacKenzie both, and throw in Roberts as a bonus, and I'll make it look like you did it!" He warned as he began nodding, the wheels in his twisted mind turning.

"Yeah, long suppressed feelings came to surface and you and Rabb had it out over poor Sarah MacKenzie who then killed herself when she saw you kill ole Harmon. And poor stupid Roberts just happened to get in the way of the fighting men, like he did in Australia…what do you think, AJ? Sounds pretty good doesn't it? Pretty plausible if you ask me…."

Admiral Chegwidden brought himself to his full height as stood facing the former DSD agent. "You know what I think, Mr. Palmer? I won't always be the Marine Corps-Navy JAG. Hell, I'm thinking I'll retire next year. Then I'll have lots of time to keep my eye on you. That's what I think."

"Careful AJ, you're old, lots of things happen to old folks like yourself…'course there's also that pretty daughter of yours…now, what's her name? Oh yeah, Francesca. She lives in Sicily, doesn't she?"

AJ's arms shot out and grabbed Palmer by an arm and neck, bodily yanking him across the table, making him wince in surprise. The JAG then swiftly locked the man's arms together with his around the Palmer's windpipe.

"Now you listen to me, you lizard," he hissed as he increased the pressure on Palmer's throat, "I even *think* you're going after my daughter and I'll introduce you to persuasion methods I learned from the Viet Cong that will convince you otherwise." He slammed the former DSD agent back into his chair.

The former DSD agent was quick to recover. "Oooo, the big bad scary SEAL is going to beat me up. Tell me 'Alfred', you in pretty good shape? Work out a lot?" The veiled threat was there. A drug induced heart attack. It would look perfectly natural. Except that it wouldn't be natural.

"You don't scare me Palmer, but I look forward to you trying something." It wasn't bravado that made him say that. AJ really hoped the former DSD agent gave him an excuse to kill him.

Clark Palmer gave the JAG an evil smile. "Oh don't worry *AJ*, I will."

-TBC…


	48. Chapter 47

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 47

A/N1: Disclaimers and other vital information can be found in story archive for …FMS which can be found in the chapter story notes.

A/N2: **~~** indicates flashback or dream sequence ( ) indicates the thoughts of a person. *~* indicates a scene shift not otherwise indicated by a JAG time stamp.

A/N3: Thanks to my friend and beta Karen who is my sounding board and has helped me see this through. Kudoes to AeroGirl, Mkim, Soleil, TZ, Janlaw for providing their help and technical expertise. Also thanks to Lisa Griffon [Yahoo Shipper Group] for her continuing support.

A/N: All language and technical glitches are mine and mine alone.

0830 Local

36th MEU, BLT Headquarters

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Thursday 10 July

Captain Johnson, the 36th's legal liaison to the defense, was waiting for Mac when she arrived in the makeshift courtroom.

"Good morning, ma'am," he said courteously. He stood up and saluted her as she approached the table.

"Good morning, Captain," she said as she returned the salute. "Are we ready to begin?"

"As ready as we'll ever be ma'am." Floyd Johnson replied as he looked toward the double doors at the back of the room.

"Looking for someone, Captain?" The Marine JAG attorney knew very well who he was looking for.

He turned back to her, half embarrassed. "Um, well, yes ma'am, Commander Rabb…."

"He had to take care of something this morning, Captain. He'll be in later this afternoon," she said, as she opened up her briefcase, pulling out her notes and a legal pad.

"Begging your pardon ma'am, does this have to do with the faxed report I gave you the day before yesterday?"

Mac stopped looking through her notes and gave him a gentle smile. "No Captain, the Iraqi police officer, Haskim al-Surah, had some information for the Commander."

"It couldn't wait until after member selection, ma'am?"

"What couldn't wait, Mac?"

The Marine Lieutenant Colonel almost flinched because she hadn't heard Sturgis Turner come up behind her.

"Harm had an errand to run," she said evasively. Her calm cool answer to Sturgis surprised her. She figured she'd give away what was really going on at first breath.

"Uh huh," the Bubblehead said noncommittally.

Sturgis knew his old academy mate well enough to know when Harm was trying to pull a rabbit out of his hat. He'd seen him do it before. Well, he'd just have a little surprise waiting for Commander-flies-by-the-seat-of-his-pants when he barged into the courtroom.

"Does this 'errand' have anything to do with the case, Mac?" He asked pointedly.

Mac set her papers down on her desk and turned to face the former submarine officer turned attorney. "No, Commander, it has to do with the attack on JAG Headquarters," she said a little harshly as she pulled Webb's report from her briefcase and set it on the table along with her case notes, "and this report."

Bud and Major Vince Barnett, who had just walked in, looked over the Commander's shoulder as he picked it up and began leafing through it.

"There is not enough time for me to digest this, Colonel…." he began.

"We don't think there is anything in there that will help our clients, Sturgis." Mac replied coolly.

He gave her a knowing glance. "Then you won't mind if Bud, the Major, and I read through this…."

"Not at all, Sturgis, knock yourself out." Mac said with a sly smile on her face.

Sturgis Turner closed the report. "Thank you, Colonel," He said trying to sound solicitous.

"You're welcome, Commander." Mac replied, mirroring his response. The first duel had ended in a draw. Or had it?

"I don't like that smile, sir." Bud said quietly as they walked over to the prosecution table. "She and the Commander are up to something."

"Of that I have no doubt, Bud. They are always up to something." As the Bubblehead sat down, he began again to glance through the report. "The question is; what are they up to?"

The makeshift gallery was beginning to fill up with off duty officers and enlisted men and women. Mac continued reviewing the questions she was going to ask potential members. Captain Johnson looked back over at the trial counsel table where Sturgis, Bud and Vince were deeply engrossed in reading the intelligence report from Special Agent Clayton Webb. He turned back to the Marine attorney and whispered.

"I don't get it, ma'am, I thought that report had significance to our case."

"It does, Captain," Mac replied. She continued looking through her notes, marking a particular point she wanted to make when member selection got underway.

"Then why let Commander Turner see it, ma'am?" Johnson was doing his best not to sound exasperated.

Her brown eyes slid over to him. "Well, first of all, because we have to, and second it'll buy us the time we need."

"But they'll know what we were planning on doing, Colonel." Johnson's voice had a hint of desperation in it. "They'll know our strategy."

How many times had she heard this conversation. Only it had been her and Harm having this discussion, and her bringing up that they were giving a valuable piece of evidence.

She eyed Bud's expression as they continued to peruse the report. "Precisely, Captain, that's what we want." She couldn't believe it. She sounded just like Harm.

"For them to know our strategy?" Johnson's shocked response was typical of her when she was a younger and less experienced lawyer.

"Part of it," she gave him a knowing smirk. "Do you remember what they taught you in law school, Captain?"

The Captain thought about that for a moment.

"Divide and conquer if possible?" He guessed.

Mac nodded. "Exactly; and sometimes the best defensive move is to go on offensive early."

Captain Johnson nodded his understanding. "Like handing them something that might throw their case into doubt."

"Exactly, Captain."

"I apologize, ma'am, I misunderstood your intentions."

"That's the misstep I'm hoping the trial counsel will make. And, it's all right; I had to have you believe I was making a mistake to make it work." For the first time she understood what Harm had been doing when she thought a particular strategy was off the wall. Sandbagging was just part of the game.

Johnson smiled at her cunning.

"Ma'am do you think it might be possible for me to get TAD to JAG Corps Headquarters? I feel like I could learn a lot from you and the Commander."

Mac gave him a winsome smile. "I'll put in a good word with Admiral Chegwidden, but I believe Major Barnett may have the same idea."

Now it was the Captain's turn to give her a knowing smirk. "Understood, ma'am, but that isn't going to keep me from trying."

"Good for you, Captain."

The courtroom was now filled with potential jurors. The armed MPs and Shore Patrolmen who had been present throughout the hearing, just not as visible, were now more heavily armed and made their presence known to everyone. Mac turned momentarily toward the back. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Captain Lewis and Colonel Livingston sitting on the back row, their faces impassive. She turned back and looked over at Sturgis whose face was an unreadable as the Sphinx. Bud sat next to him reading along as best he could. She hoped Bud would do what he always did.

Bud Roberts could see that the Commander was intently reading the report, especially the section that pertained to the 36th MEU. Bud only had to glance at that section to know what it said. Barnett noticed that Commander Turner seemed particularly interested in that section as well.

"Sir? Is there anything wrong?"

Sturgis sighed heavily and rubbed his eyes. "The Colonel has given us some evidence that points to someone else."

"Someone else who might have killed Lieutenant Dodge, sir? Who does it say did it, Commander?"

"It doesn't give specifics," Turner rumbled irritatedly. (Damn that Marine,) he had fallen for her trap.

"So it's hearsay right now," Bud concluded carefully.

The Bubblehead cut his eyes toward the junior JAG Corps officer. "Exactly, Lieutenant."

"Then we proceed as planned, sir?" chimed in Barnett.

"We do, Major, but we keep a close eye on anyone who might have a vested interest in seeing the Cobra gunship crew found guilty."

"Like Colonel Livingston and Captain Lewis, sir?" Bud said as innocently as he could.

Sturgis knew what he was implying. The naval Commander grimaced. "Or anyone else that might have a grudge against them. That includes potential members."

"Oh boy," Bud said under his breath.

"All rise!"

Everyone stood as Judge Blakely entered the room and took his seat at the bench.

"You may be seated," he said to the two sets of attorneys and the gallery. He looked over at the Marine staff sergeant who was serving as the Sergeant-at-Arms. "Sergeant, will you bring in the prisoners?"

"Aye sir," The staff sergeant left the room and returned with Lieutenants Lukens and Buell, followed close behind by a heavily armed Marine guard.

"Gentlemen, please take your seat by your counsel." The gunship crew sat down by Mac and Captain Johnson.

Blakely sharply eyed the defense table. One person was missing. "Colonel, where is Commander Rabb this morning?"

Mac stood and cleared her throat. "He has been unavoidably detained, Your Honor," she said as reverently as she could, even though she was lying through her teeth. She knew exactly where Harm was. The Marine attorney prayed that Harm would be here soon.

"Unavoidably detained," Blakely repeated dully. He should have known this would happen.

"Yes, Your Honor," same reverent voice. Mac would have curtsied if she thought it would help. (Harmon Rabb, this had better be worth it…)

A scowl worked its way across the judge's face as he made a notation on the papers in front of him, looking not unlike a school teacher noting a child's absence from class. "I see." He didn't. "Will you be able to provide both of the accused effective counsel, Colonel?"

"Yes, Your Honor," was her automatic response.

He looked at two prisoners. "Lieutenants Lukens, Buell; do either of you have any objections to Colonel MacKenzie handling member selection by herself?"

FIREFLY ONE's crew looked briefly at the Marine JAG attorney and then back at Judge Blakely.

"No Your Honor," replied the Lieutenant.

"No sir, Your Honor," was CWO Buell's answer.

Blakely nodded and then eyed the trial counsel's table. "Does the Government have any objections?"

Sturgis Turner rose. Mac unconsciously crossed her fingers out of sight of the judge.

Sturgis gave Mac a severe look, and then turned back to Judge Blakely. "None Your Honor." He replied in his deep bass voice.

"Very well," Blakely made a notation in his notebook. "Let's begin with selection of the members. I see the first potential member is *Lieutenant Williams. Blakely looked out at the gallery.

The Staff Sergeant cleared his throat.

"Lieutenant Anthony Williams, will you please come to the witness stand…."

Harm, Khalil and Haskim were lying in a ditch next to a dried up rice patty. All three were looking through binoculars at what looked like a typical Iraqi village going through its morning routine. This was now their second day of watching the village where 'The Architect', as they were calling him now, was hiding out.

Harm at first had wondered why they didn't grab him the first day, but he realized they continued to observe the village, that Khalil and Haskim, were noting all movement in the village…including that of 'The Architect'. The tall attorney/aviator surmised they must have some kind of plan in mind. What it was specifically, he didn't know. Maybe because too many planners would spoil their plan.

Finally, as an armed guard left in yet another ubiquitous sedan, the two men informed Harm what they intended to do.

Harm turned to the former Republican Guard tank driver. "Are you sure about this, Khalil?"

The tall naval Commander wanted to be certain they had a foolproof plan. He didn't want to nab the wrong man. They had had so many misleading tips on this case.

Khalil nodded, keeping an eye on the house closest to them. "Yes, Commander, he is the one...and this plan will work."

Harm lowered his binoculars and looked over at Officer al-Surah. "Haskim, I'm guessing this village is sympathetic to the Iraqi Fedayeen and Mujahideen volunteers."

Haskim turned and gave the lanky US Naval officer a sardonic grin. "Not as sympathetic as it might appear on the surface, Commander Rabb. It's more like fear and acquiescence than genuine support."

"His car will come down this road at 12:45," Khalil said as he lowered his binoculars and pointed to the dusty track running beside the mud brick house. He'll exit from that house, get in the car that comes from Fedayeen encampment north of Mirbullah, and it will take him back there."

"And we're supposed to take him then?" Harm couldn't believe that was the plan. "In broad daylight?" Maybe Rafid was going to take care of the driver.

Khalil As'sam smiled. "Yes, Commander. The Fedayeen grow complacent, that is, those that live here. They do not think your Marine forces will try to enter this town."

"They will not be expecting us or our actions," added Haskim.

Harm hoped they were right – a daylight kidnapping in the middle of enemy territory was usually not very successful.

A young clean cut Navy officer man settled into the chair at the witness stand.

Sturgis Turner got up and walked towards him, smiling. "Good morning Lieutenant,"

The young officer nodded. "Good morning, sir."

The Bubblehead walked closer. "Lieutenant Williams, do you consider yourself an honest man?"

"Yes sir, I do." The man replied without hesitation.

Sturgis nodded. "Do you make snap decisions?"

Williams didn't flinch. "When it's necessary, sir."

"And when it's not?"

The Navy officer gave a small nervous smile. "I like to make informed decisions, Commander."

The Naval JAG nodded again then turned away from the witness stand. "Lieutenant, are you familiar with the concept of fratricide?"

TheLieutenant nodded. "Yes sir, I witnessed the near destruction of one of our LAVs during the early phase of our combat operations back in March." Sturgis turned back towards the stand.

"It happened early in our offensive operations due to friendly fire from one of our aircraft, an F-15, sir." the Naval officer hastily added, not sure if he should have said that or not.

Sturgis didn't seem unduly agitated by his comment. "I see. Lieutenant, do you believe that you can make a fair judgment based on the evidence presented in this case?"

"Yes, sir."

Commander Turner looked at the judge. "The Government has no challenges to this witness; Lieutenant Williams is acceptable to trial counsel, Your Honor." And with that he walked back to his table and sat down.

Mac looked at her notes and then back at the Naval Lieutenant. "Lieutenant Williams, tell me about the friendly fire incident you witnessed."

Williams nodded. "Uh, one of the Air Force's air assets assigned to our unit strayed from his designated area. His mistook one of the unit's LAVs for an Iraqi BTR personnel carrier and laid down suppressive fire. Fortunately, no one was killed or injured, ma'am."

Mac the Marine kept her professional face in place. No smiles. "Have you ever witnessed actual fratricide incidents between Marine air and Marine ground units, Lieutenant?"

Williams shook his head. "No, ma'am, but given the fog of war, I believe it is possible."

Mac stared coldly at Williams. "Even if the ground units are in contact with the air units?"

The Marine Staff JAG officer saw the man shift in his seat. If he was going to screw up, he'd do it now. "Yes, ma'am…" he looked as if he wanted to say something else, but then decided against it.

Mac looked over at Colonel Blakely. "Lieutenant Williams is acceptable to defense counsel, Your Honor." And with that she sat back down.

"Lieutenant Williams you may return to your seat," As the Lieutenant gratefully left the stand, Clifford Blakely looked at the list that had been given to him Colonel Briggs and General Thornton. "Staff Sergeant Gilchrist, please take the witness stand."

As the short muscular man approached the witness stand, Blakely replayed in his mind this morning's message from JAG Headquarters. Admiral Morris' E-mail had been explicit. There was a chance of command influence by the convening authority; therefore both Trial and Defense Counsel were to have an opportunity to screen all potential members.

Sturgis looked down at his notes on the Staff Sergeant. The man was known for his strong views, for instance, there being no excuse for fratricide. But what was more troubling from the Bubblehead's point of view was his passionate belief that someone else was behind Dodge's death. Sturgis wanted to be sure this wouldn't affect his judgment.

The ebony Naval Commander looked at the Staff Sergeant as he settled into his seat on the stand. "Staff Sergeant Gilchrist, how well do you know the accused?"

The man looked over at Lukens and Buell. He tried to keep his face neutral. "I've known them for about two years, Commander."

Sturgis nodded in acknowledgement. "Given the charges against the accused, do you think you can render a fair judgment about their guilt or innocence?"

Given what was known about Gilchrist, it was a fair question. But the Staff Sergeant didn't back away from the challenge.

"Yes, sir, I believe I can," he said firmly.

"Will you examine all the evidence presented in this courts martial and not discount any of it due to personal bias?"

The Marine Staff Sergeant looked directly at the Navy man. "Commander, I may be friends with them, but I know I have to put that aside and judge them only on the evidence presented…all the evidence presented."

Sturgis turned back to the Judge. "Thank you Staff Sergeant. This man is acceptable to trial counsel, Your Honor."

Blakely looked over at Mac. "Colonel?"

The Marine JAG attorney stood and walked slowly and deliberately over to Gilchrist.

"Staff Sergeant Gilchrist, you're good friends with Lieutenants Lukens and Buell, are you not?"

He gave her the same stern look he had given Commander Turner. "No ma'am, not good friends, just friends. It won't affect my judgment of them either way."

"I see," The truth was, his statement didn't really faze her. "Staff Sergeant, what is your definition of fratricide?"

"My personal definition?" It was the first time today the Staff Sergeant had seemed off balance.

Mac easily fell into the role of the cool calculating attorney. "If you like, yes, in your own words, Staff Sergeant."

"Um, fratricide is the killing of one's own soldiers through mistakes in judgment…."

She smiled.

"We all make mistakes, right,Staff Sergeant?"

"Yes, ma'am, we all do…."

"Except when it comes to fratricide, right, Staff Sergeant?"

Gilchrist was silent.

"We're supposed to be better than that when we're in combat, right, Staff Sergeant?"

The Marine Staff Sergeant looked as though he felt ill. She had introduced doubt into an issue he thought he understood. "Yes, ma'am," he said quietly. "I believe we should be."

But Mac wasn't about to let up. "And no one can make an honest mistake in combat according to you, can they, Staff Sergeant?"

"No ma'am," he continued quietly, "I don't think fratricide happens due to honest mistakes."

The Marine Lieutenant Colonel turned and looked at Judge Blakely. "Thank you Staff Sergeant. Your Honor, I challenge Staff Sergeant Gilchrist for cause, undue bias."

Colonel Clifford Blakely glanced at the embarrassed Marine. "You may step down, Staff Sergeant."

As Gilchrist slowly stood up to leave, Sturgis Turner stood up as well. "Your Honor, I object, this man is perfectly acceptable as a member."

Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie was ready for this. "Your Honor, while Commander Turner thinks Staff Sergeant Gilchrist may be able to pass fair judgment on my clients; he has shown a clear bias against those who commit fratricide. Therefore, the Staff Sergeant is unacceptable as a member." Her tone indicated boredom with the lead trial counsel's blatantly obvious ploy.

Blakely nodded. "Commander Turner, I'm inclined to agree with Colonel MacKenzie. Staff Sergeant Gilchrist, please leave the stand."

The Staff Sergeant watched him head to the back of the room. "Senior Chief Petty Officer Herrera, please take the stand."

1155 Local

Undisclosed Location

West of Mirbullah

Harm, Haskim, and Khalil continued to watch the house from the weed and bramble filled ditch. It was warm now, but in less than a couple of hours the sun would be overhead and the air around them would feel like a blast furnace.

(How much longer do we have to wait here?) Harm wondered. He looked at his watch. It was almost Noon. Mac was knee deep in member selection. He hoped that feisty light Colonel of his could handle Sturgis and Bud…. He froze in mid-thought. He was glad that Mac couldn't hear him say that because if she had he might end up walking with a limp. She didn't like it when he questioned her ability.

"Got room for one more, Sailor?"

All three men turned to see a woman dressed in brown burkha settle in next to them.

Harm was struck as he recognized the blue eyes of the woman facing him. The laugh lines around the eyes weren't there the last time he saw her.

"Meg?"

The blue eyes crinkled in reaction to an impish smile that Harm imagined was beaming underneath the cloth covering the lower part of her face. "In the flesh Commander, that is, so to speak. But I'd prefer that you didn't spread it around."

Haskim and Khalil exchanged confused glances. Who was this woman, and how did Commander Rabb come to know this one? Americans were a strange people….

"Meg, what are you doing here?" Harm was glad to see her but dumbfounded at the same time. What was Meg Austin doing in central Iraq?

She removed her facial cover and gave him another impish grin. "Helping out an old friend per my orders." She intoned mysteriously.

Harm moved closer to her. "Orders? Orders from who?"

Meg gave him a 'you're kidding, right?' look. "Colonel Drewe, Joint Task Forces Intelligence, Naval Branch. He was asked by the Central Intelligence Agency 'to provide any and all assistance to Commander Rabb's ongoing investigation in Mirbullah'. Naturally when I heard you were involved, we couldn't resist."

Harm's blue green eyes shot open wider if that was possible.

Meg Austin put her index finger to Harm's open lips.

"Before you say 'who's we?' I'll fill you in on a few things, Commander. Those intel reports you've been reading about the Spec Ops here? Those are from our shop. We've been the main source for intel here since the beginning of Operation Iraqi Freedom. You probably know me better by my code name…I'm Rancher."

"You're Rancher?" Harm tried to keep his stunned voice from carrying.

"Make's sense, doesn't? After all, Daddy was a rancher…." She turned her head to look at the house across the street from the rice paddy irrigation ditch.

The aviator/attorney felt really dumb about missing that one. He should have looked more closely at the agents providing the intelligence for those reports. Harm gave her an apprising look. "Then 'Scimitar' is-"

She looked back at him and finished the thought for him. "Exactly. Only now she works for the Interim Iraqi Government and with me. So I guess you could say, that's 'the we'."

The tall Naval Commander and the others began looking around. "Where is she now?"

Meg looked in the general direction they were looking. "She's working with your friend, Corporal Tlass. She figured he could use her help."

1310 Local

Camp Chesty Puller

"Lieutenant, were you not saying just the other day to your fellow fire team leaders and even to your squad leader that convicting FIREFLY ONE's crew was quote 'morally wrong' end quote?"

Lieutenant Levenger swallowed nervously as Bud Roberts continued to stare at him. "I never said that-!" he blurted out suddenly, his eyes darting from Bud to Judge Blakely.

The Junior JAG officer and attorney approached the bench holding a sheet of paper. "I have here a sworn affidavit from Lieutenant Levenger's commanding office, Captain Harrow, stating that the Lieutenant did indeed say that a conviction of the helo crew would be morally wrong."

He turned and walked back toward the staggered Lieutenant. "I ask that you challenge Lieutenant Levenger for cause, undue bias."

Mac hissed disgustedly and Sturgis nodded approvingly as Bud made his way back to his seat.

Judge Blakely looked blandly without judgment at the distressed Marine 2nd Lieutenant. "You may step down." He intoned stonily as he struck another potential member off the list.

Mustafa Youssef was having a perfect day. His meeting with all al-Sahood went well and at lunch, a village child had just finished reciting a long poem about martyrs that she had memorized as a gift to him. Now he was headed north to the remnants of that Republican Guard armored unit that had defied all odds and somehow remained intact despite the chaos around it. Not only had it managed that, but it even refurbished some abandoned mine clearing heavy equipment in the bunkers below that battalion defensive position they now manned.

(With luck,) he thought chuckling to himself, (this scratch unit can join our attack on the Americans.)

A dusty sedan pulled up in front of the safe house. The terrorist supposed this was the driver he was to meet.

"Is-salam yale-kum!/Good to see you!" said the driver smiling at him.

The Architect squinted in the noonday sun as he tried to get a better look at the man. "You're new?"

"I was a tank gunner in the Republican Guard," Rafid said smiling.

"Yazim!/Great!" the Mirbullah ambush architect said with his own broad smile. "We have need of you, brother."

"I have no doubt." Rafid said with a grin.

Mustafa was a little put off with the driver's smile, but then all Iraqis made him feel a little uneasy, especially those who were part of Saddam's Republican Guard or Al-Haris Al-Jamhuri "Then let us get there as quickly as possible."

"Ya ustaz-rayyis/Yes sir." Rafid said obediently as Mustafa got in the car.

The former tank gunner pulled onto the hard-packed dirt and gravel road and headed up a slight slope that lead away from the village.

As they crested the slope Mustafa and Rafid could see there was a car parked along the side of the road with its hood up. There were two women in burkhas and three men standing near it.

Mustafa leaned over the front seat to get a better look. "Gara eh? Fi-h eh?/What's up? What's the matter?"

"They seem to be having some trouble, sir" Rafid reported like he was rich man's chauffer pointing out a tramp on the street.

Rafid rolled down his window as he pulled up next to them. "Greetings brothers, is there something we can help you with?"

"Our car is out of fuel," Haskim said quickly walking over to the tank gunner's car. "Do you have any you can spare?"

Mustafa noticed that one of the two women was holding her stomach.

"Ma-l-ha yand aha eh?/What is wrong with her?"

Haskim looked at Meg who had her head bent down.

"Something bothers her stomach. Her husband fears there may be something wrong with her pregnancy."

Mustafa smiled faintly. It was most likely morning sickness, but considering the current sanitary conditions in this area right now, it was probably better not to let them take any chances by not having it checked out. Besides his senior officers would berate him for not helping a fellow Muslim.

The Architect turned to Rafid. "Get them some gasoline from the house we just left," he ordered. "They will have a spare gas can we use."

"Ya ustaz-rayyis/Yes sir," replied Rafid. Mustafa got out of the car as Rafid turned around headed back toward the village.

The Architect stood with the little group. He noticed that one of the men, who was exceedingly tall, had his face partially covered.

"What is wrong with your face, brother?" asked Mustafa.

Khalil looked at Harm and then back at the terrorist. "His face was injured by a stray bullet. It left a disfiguring scar."

Harm and the terrorist stared at each other for a long moment.

Mustafa was about to grab at Harm's kaffiyeh when the man felt a gun press into his back. He turned and saw it was the woman who had been holding her stomach. She had a 9mm pistol aimed at his back.

"Eh?" was the only coherent sound Mustafa could urge from his throat before the tall robed man grabbed him in a headlock.

The second woman had already slammed the hood of the car back down in place, and Haskim was helping the tall man urge Mustafa toward the open door to the backseat of the car.

Rafid came speeding back down the road and slammed on his brakes, allowing the woman with the pistol to climb in as clouds of brown and gray dust boiled up around them.

The second woman also produced a pistol and leveled it at the struggling terrorist. She ripped off her facial covering revealing the face of former Iraqi officer Lieutenant Dumai better known to Harm known as 'Scimitar'. "Get in the car! Now!" she barked.

Mustafa could not believe it! He was being kidnapped!

The tall man shoved the terrorist into the rear passenger seat, and he found himself sandwiched in between the tall one and the smaller one who told him about the face injury. In front sat the woman and other man who had initially asked for his help.

Doors slammed shut as the driver threw his car into gear which was quickly followed by the second car.

"You will live," replied the small man to Mustafa's unasked question. "Though you do not deserve to."

Both cars threw up stones and clouds of dust as they took off at high speed, heading east back toward Mirbullah.

The member interviews continued until early evening. Though there were only five members needed for the Courts Martial, Sturgis, Bud and Mac burned more than half the commissioned and non-commissioned officers in the MEU to find five that both sides could agree on.

Both Counsels thought at various times, as the day wore on, that the Convening Authority might have to contact other nearby units in order to find suitable members.

In the end, five were found. A Colonel, a Commander, a Lieutenant Commander, and two Majors. Four men and one woman.

Mac set her jaw as Judge Blakely began telling the two counsels that trial would begin at 0900 Friday, tomorrow morning. Harm hadn't made it back in time today. She hoped he would get here tomorrow before things really got bad.

-TBC…


	49. Chapter 48

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 48

A/N1: Disclaimers and other vital information can be found in story archive for …FMS which can be found chapter story notes

A/N2: **~~** indicates flashback or dream sequence ( ) indicates the thoughts of a person. *~* indicates a scene shift not otherwise indicated by a JAG time stamp.

A/N3: Thanks to my friend and beta Karen who is my sounding board and has helped me see this through. Kudoes to AeroGirl, Mkim, Soleil, TZ, Janlaw for providing their help and technical expertise. Also thanks to Lisa Griffon [Yahoo Shipper Group] for her continuing support.

From Chapter 23a, part one, …For Meritorious Service

The member interviews continued until late in the afternoon. Though there were only five members needed for the Court Martial, Sturgis, Bud and Mac burned more than half the commissioned and non-commissioned officers in the MEU to find five that both sides could agree on.

Both Counsels thought at various times, as the day wore on, that the Convening Authority might have to contact other nearby units in order to find suitable members.

In the end, five were found. A Colonel, a Commander, a Lieutenant Commander, and two Majors. Four men and one woman.

Mac set her jaw as Judge Blakely began telling the two counsels that trial would begin at 0900 Friday, tomorrow morning. Harm hadn't made it back in time today. She hoped he would get here tomorrow before things really got bad.

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 23a, part two

1004 Local

Camp Chesty Puller

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Friday 11 July

Despite the fact she was one lone defense attorney going up against two trial attorneys, Mac had held her own and then some for the last hour.

But she knew it was a losing battle unless Harm brought in this 'trump card' he claimed to have. Still, she girded herself and fought on.

Each time Bud or Sturgis sought to use emotionally charged statements disguised as questions to try and sway the members, Mac would strenuously object. Harm would have been proud.

The courtroom was again packed. Besides those who needed to be there, Colonel Briggs, Brigadier General Thornton, and several of the 36th's ranking officers were in attendance. In the very back of the room, those noncommissioned officers and enlisted personnel not on the current duty roster sat silently watching the proceedings.

Colonel Livingston and Captain Lewis must've had other business to attend to this morning because they had not yet made an appearance. That worried the Marine attorney some, but not as much as she thought it would.

The light Colonel knew that some of those in attendance were friends and supporters of FIREFLY ONE's crew who believed in their innocence, but just as many were here who believed the gunship crew was guilty.

"Objection Your Honor!" Mac said, her voice cutting the air like a knife as she shot out of her chair for the eighth time since the trial had begun.

"Counsel is testifying, again." She commented in a deliberately chosen indignant tone.

Judge Clifford Blakely eyed Bud J. Roberts, who was standing stoically by the trial counsel's table, a sheaf of papers in his hands.

Bud looked blandly at the indignant Colonel. "Your Honor, I was merely pointing out Corporal Jenkins could not have possibly seen the accuseds, much less know what was going through their minds at that point."

The members sat silently watching the verbal parrying. Their faces were impassive.

Blakely shifted in his seat and nodded. "I'm inclined to agree with the Lieutenant, Colonel. Overruled."

Mac sat back down. She quickly made a notation beside Corporal Jenkins name 'friendship overrides sense of judgment?' she quickly scribbled. The Marine attorney quickly shifted her gaze back to Bud following him as he continued to rip into the Corporal's testimony.

Mac was searching, scanning for a chink in Bud's technique – there had to be one….

She watched as Bud turned and nearly sneered at the Corporal after one damaging comment. It was almost a sneer and that was good enough for the Marine JAG attorney.

"Objection! Counsel is badgering the witness!"

It was clear that Blakely hadn't liked Bud's facial expression either.

"Sustained,"

(Got him!)

Bud was perturbed; he had tried not to let his overconfidence get the best of him, but it leaked out anyway.

"No further questions." He sat down dejectedly next to Sturgis.

The former submarine officer did not hiss out a disgusted breath or shake his head ruefully at the Lieutenant's miscue. Instead he leaned over to his second chair and slipped him a note.

Bud surreptitiously took the note, dreading what it might say. He slowly opened it. For a moment Bud sat staring at the unfolded piece of paper. He couldn't believe what

it said.

'Good try Bud' was written in Sturgis Turner's bold flowing script.

As the Commander stood up, he gave Bud an encouraging smile.

For his part, Bud felt some relief at the Bubblehead's note, but he also knew the Naval officer felt that way because he was confident they would win the case.

As Sturgis finished his questions of this latest witness, Captain Johnson pushed a note over to Mac who briefly looked at it and nodded.

"Redirect Your Honor?" Mac asked coolly.

Blakely nodded at the Marine Colonel. "Proceed."

The Marine JAG attorney looked at her notes briefly and then walked up to the witness stand. Lieutenant James 'Jim' Hawkins shifted in his seat as she approached.

"Are you nervous, Lieutenant?" Mac knew there was something else bothering him, but she couldn't place her finger on just what that was.

"A little ma'am," he admitted sheepishly. It probably seemed odd to her that a combat soldier would be nervous over this. After all, he'd been prepared for Mac's initial questioning and had survived Sturgis' questions, so why get nervous now?

(Oops, forgot about that little thing about him liking me.) That might have something to do with it. That and the proximity of her body to his right now. And the little game they had played before the hearing when she interviewed him. She no longer suspected he was a party to Dodge's death, but the effects of her 'act' were still affecting him.

"Just relax and take your time." she offered sympathetically. She'd have to explain later why the subterfuge earlier. For now, she just had to brush it off and hope he did too.

He exhaled slowly and nodded at her that he was ready to start.

"You told Commander Turner about going on the reconnaissance mission, Lieutenant. Tell me when did you and Lieutenants Borden and Dodge and the other Lieutenants of Alpha Company conduct reconnaissance with Captain Lewis?"

"We began our reconnaissance at 1600, ma'am."

"Before sundown?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Why before sundown?" It was an obvious question, designed to answer the same question that might pop up in the member's minds.

"We were on a tight schedule, ma'am. Anything that delayed us, screwed with…" he quickly looked up apologetically at her and then at the members. "Uh, I'm sorry, that is, messed up…messed up the operation's time table."

Mac nodded her acknowledgement, ignoring his gaffe. Inwardly she smiled at his boyish awkwardness. However, she couldn't dwell on that right now, she had a case to win. "What specifically were your orders, Lieutenant?"

"Our orders were to neutralize any threat to the MEF and, if possible, capture any al-Qaeda fighters before they had a chance to flee to Baghdad."

He gave an earnest look. "If we had waited until sundown, the Republican Guard might have had a chance to launch their missiles or the al-Qaeda operatives might have slipped away."

It had been established earlier in the trial that the 36th MEU was under the gun to find that Republican Guard unit because their surface to surface missile detachment had been reportedly seen north of Mirbullah. If that unit got any further south, they'd have the ability to launch missiles into US and Coalition staging areas in Kuwait.

"Did you conduct your reconnaissance of the town as a group?"

"Actually ma'am, we conducted our reconnaissance in groups of two, Captain Lewis and Lieutenant Price; Lieutenant Borden and Lieutenant Packer; Lieutenant Lukens and Lieutenant Felk; and Lieutenant Dodge and myself. One would scout and the other would record what was seen."

"Is that a normal configuration for reconnaissance Lieutenant?"

"We can use a variety of configurations, ma'am. Captain Lewis wanted us to recon the objective in pairs since it was a fairly large town."

"And each pair reconnoitered a different part of the objective?" She wanted to be sure the members understood what had taken place.

"Yes ma'am."

"I see. What part of the town did you and Lieutenant Dodge scout?"

"Our assignment was to scout the bridges leading into town ma'am. We wanted to be sure they would hold the weight of our vehicles."

"How was Lieutenant Dodge that evening, Lieutenant, did he seem nervous, apprehensive?"

Sturgis stood. "Objection, calls for speculation."

Blakely gave Mac a warning look. "Sustained."

"I'll rephrase, Your Honor. Lieutenant, how would you characterize Lieutenant Dodge's demeanor that evening?"

"Objection." This time it was Bud.

The Marine JAG attorney looked over at Judge Blakely. "Your Honor, the question goes to Lieutenant Dodge's state of mind."

Clifford Blakely nodded. The question seemed logical to him. "Okay Counselor, I'll allow it this time." It looked as though the members agreed with his ruling.

Bud and Sturgis looked down at their notes and scribbled furiously. Then both raised their heads to keep an eye on Mac.

Lieutenant Hawkins licked his lips nervously. "He was agitated and worried ma'am, but he did his job."

Mac returned the trial counsels' looks as she continued her questioning. "Did you ask him why he was agitated and worried?"

"No, ma'am. I figured it was due to the fact we were doing reconnaissance in hostile territory. I honestly didn't give it much thought."

Mac nodded her acceptance of his comment. "Was he agitated or worried when he was around Lieutenant Lukens just before you split off into pairs?"

Where he had been nervous and unsure before, Jim Hawkins was clear and concise now. "No, ma'am, not around Lieutenant Lukens, only when we were scouting our objective."

Mac made a mental note of that observation. She looked over at Judge Blakely.

"No further questions, Your Honor."

Blakely nodded as scribbled on his pad. "So noted." He looked over at the witness. "Lieutenant Hawkins, you may step down."

Checkpoint Charlie Five

Camp Chesty Puller

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

The dusty Iraqi police car slowed to a stop behind the line of traffic waiting to go through the MEU checkpoint. It was the fifth one they had encountered this morning.

Each time they had to stop and have their car thoroughly searched while Harm explained to the soldiers manning the post what they were doing.

Fortunately, they hadn't kept the terrorist's car, because that would have probably led to even more lengthy delays. It had been disabled and abandoned in a wadi shortly after sundown. Lieutenant Dumai and Meg Austin had taken the other car and disappeared into the night. Harm and Haskim had moved to the front seat and Khalil and Rafid sandwiched 'The Architect'.

As it was each time they stopped, the aviator/lawyer noted that valuable time slipped away, leading him to wonder if they would get back to Mirbullah and the court room before late afternoon.

Harm looked up. While lost in thought, two cars, a couple of pickup trucks and one Dragon Wagon had made it through. There was only a HMMWV and tractor trailer rig in front of them now.

When it was their turn, Haskim slowly pulled up to the guardhouse and applied the parking brake. A young bespectacled Marine Corporal wearing full combat gear and black horn rimmed glasses reinforced with white tape along the bridge walked over to the Iraqi patrol car and peered inside at the occupants. He backed away and saluted as soon as he saw Harm.

"Commander! Uh, sir, I'll need the driver to pop the hood and the trunk and then I'll need you, the driver and the passengers to step out of the car for inspection." He then looked over at Haskim as a Lance Corporal approached the other side of the car. "And officer, I'll, ah, need the see the driver's license, registration, and your traveling papers."

All five men got out of the patrol car and Haskim handed the Corporal with glasses his papers. In the meantime, several more Marines with K-9 dogs had appeared and began a slow methodical search for evidence of car bombs or contraband. A flat bed cart with mirrors was rolled under the car to check the undercarriage.

"Officer Haskim al-Surah?" said the Corporal holding the officer's documents, "are these yours' and the Commander's prisoners?"

Another group of Marines had begun carefully patting down Harm, Haskim, Rafid, Khalil, and Mustafa. "Yes," Haskim said as he nodded in response to the man's question. Harm produced his wallet and flipped it open to his identification badge and handed it to the man.

"Corporal, I'm Commander Harmon Rabb, junior, JAG Corps. Officer al-Surah and I need to get these men to the BLT Headquarters as soon as possible." Harm pointed to Khalil, Rafid and 'The Architect'.

The young Corporal turned toward the three men who were almost finished being searched then looked back quizzically at the Naval Commander. "Are they your prisoners, Commander, or Officer Haskim's?"

The aviator/lawyer didn't have time to explain the details right now, so he decided to hedge. He hoped Haskim, Khalil and Rafid would follow his lead.

"Yes, and they're in our joint custody, Corporal. They are witnesses in Lieutenants Lukens and Buell's courts martial."

Up till now, PFC Adam Secord had watched, when he could, the court proceedings with detached interest. The JAGs defending Lukens and Buell were good, but nothing was going to get these two off. (Not as long as Darcy and Cap'n Lewis wanted them found guilty….)

That is, he thought that was the case. He didn't like the way this lady JAG, MacKenzie, was bringing up Dodge's mood on the recon mission. Why was she focusing so hard on that? Was it possible that she had found something? Was it something that could get those Cobra jockeys off the hook?

For the first time since Captain Lewis had shot and killed Sergeant Colwell, Adam felt a tide of panic rising in him.

His eyes darted over at the Captain and Colonel Livingston who had just entered and found seats near the back of the courtroom. Both were as placid as if they were watching a ballet performance. (How can they be so calm about this?)

Adam willed his panic to subside. Relax. They had just arrived. They had no idea what this Marine legal weenie was supposing. Once they figured out the score, they would take care of the problem, they always did….

Adam turned back around and began to relax a bit. (Sure, they'd take care of everything, like they always did) The Captain was always telling him not to go off half-cocked. Now that lady Marine JAG was standing up again.

"Your Honor, I call-"

Everyone turned when they heard the court room doors open.

In walked an armed soldier escorting three Arabic men dressed in civilian clothes, flanked by Officer al-Surah and Harm.

Adam looked over anxiously at Darcy. Her face remained impassive as did Captain Lewis'.

Adam's mind however, ran in all directions. These men were part of that Republican Guard tank crew that had escaped from the local jail. They had talked with him and the Captain before the 36th had stormed Mirbullah. The other man with them really sent a sick feeling dancing through the PFC's stomach. He had helped plan Dodge's death as well as the ambush the 36th had suffered.

PFC Secord felt his panic return and go a notch higher as his stomach began churning.

Both Sturgis and Bud shot out of their chairs. "Your Honor!" The Naval Commander barked. Mac couldn't tell if Turner's antics were showmanship or righteous indignation at what was going on.

Colonel Clifford Blakely sternly surveyed Commander Rabb and the men now standing before him. "I trust you have a good explanation for your disappearance, Commander."

Harm looked up the Marine judge. "Yes, Your Honor, I do. First, I apologize to you," Then he turned to the members, "And to the members for my absence." Blakely nodded his acceptance of Harm's apology. The tall aviator/lawyer gestured to the men standing in between him and Haskim. "These men, Your Honor, were found with the help of Officer Haskim al-Surah of the Mirbullah police constabulary."

Blakely held up a hand to hold off Sturgis Turner's inevitable objection. Blakely turned

to the Staff Sergeant. "I need these members sequestered, the accuseds returned to their cell and this courtroom cleared. Now."

The Staff Sergeant and his squad immediately began doing as the Military Judge had ordered.

Once the room had been cleared, he looked at both tables. "Counsels, approach the

bench."

Counsels exchanged wary looks as they approached the Judge. Mac gave Harm a sideways look. Harm for his part kept a professional face.

Blakely eyed the group before him. "Now that we're the only ones here, Commander, elaborate on what you began telling us about these men."

"Yes Your Honor. These men were found with the help of Officer al-Surah. They are witnesses for the defense." Harm turned slightly so he could look at the men and Judge

Blakely at the same time.

"Corporal Rafid T'lass and Sergeant Khalil As'sam were part of the Republican Guard tank crew of Captain Ahmad Jalloud. They witnessed the shooting down of FIREFLY ONE and subsequent shooting of Lieutenant Dodge. They were assumed to have been dead after the uprising in Mirbullah that took place a couple of days ago, but with Officer al-Surah's help we were able to locate both of them. And they are willing to testify that they saw someone else shoot Lieutenant Dodge on the morning of 36th's attack."

Blakely scanned the two men as if grading them for an inspection. "Is this true? And are you willing to testify on the accuseds' behalf?"

The two former Republican Guard tank crewmen exchanged glances, assuring themselves that they would support each other. "Yes, Your Honor." they replied simply.

Blakely was a little surprised that they understood and spoke English so easily

"And you?" the Military Judge inquired of the third Arab in civilian garb.

The tall aviator/lawyer spoke up before the man could talk. "Your Honor, this is Mustafa Youssef, alias"The Architect". He was the al Qaeda's operational planning officer for the ambush of the 36th MEU on 25 March."

Sturgis and Bud tried hard not to let their shock and surprise show through their poker faces.

Major Barnett and Captain Johnson, though, were not as successful. Their shaken looks were obvious.

"He also knows who shot down FIREFLY ONE and who killed Lieutenant Dodge."

Clifford Blakely sat back in his chair. Harmon Rabb, Junior, never ceased to amaze him. Just when he thought the man was about to lose a case, Rabb would go out a find a witness or get a confession that would turn the case on its head. He turned to the lead Trial Counsel. He knew he was going to regret asking this, but he had no choice.

"Commander Turner?"

"Your Honor, while I respect Commander Rabb's abilities in the courtroom, I really must strenuously protest this sideshow act that the lead Defense Counsel has produced. It violates the decorum and good order of this court."

Mac fought hard not to say something snotty in reply. If there was one thing in the courtroom that Sturgis was good at, it was getting under the opposition's skin.

Despite the stinging barb, Harm projected the look of the ever calm, cool, and collected lawyer. "Your Honor, could I have a moment with the Trial Counsel?"

Blakely sighed with noticeable irritation. "Five minutes, Commander."

Sturgis lost no time in getting right to the point.

"Okay Counselor, what are you offering?" The former submarine officer folded his arms across his chest.

Harm's eyes radiated blue steel. "Just interview them, Commander. See what they have to say." Harm knew he had won.

"But sir," began Bud, "five minutes isn't enough time-"

Mac interrupted. "Just ask them who killed Lieutenant Dodge, Lieutenant."

Mac and Harm shared a brief glance of agreement.

Sturgis nodded. "Okay Commander," The former submariner turned to taller of the three witnesses. "Sergeant As'sam, who killed Lieutenant Dodge?"

"The one you call Private First Class Adam Secord, Commander."

"That's insane!" Captain Johnson barked, "Secord's a model Marine!"

"Captain Johnson!" Blakely's voice sounded like the crack of a whip.

"Floyd!" Vince Barnett snapped, "Get a hold of yourself!" The SJAG Major was being a textbook senior officer, but Mac could see the disbelief on the man's face. He too, was having a hard time believing Adam Secord could have done such a heinous act. It was worse than fragging an officer, if that was possible. It was plain premeditated murder.

Khalil As' Sam looked at the two SJAG liaisons, carefully weighing his words. "I know this difficult for you to believe, sirs, but Corporal T'lass and I witnessed Private Secord's meeting with Captain Jalloud and Mustafa Youssef, the one you call 'The Architect'"

"And when our tank was knocked out," added Rafid T'lass "we moved closer to the firefight and saw Private Secord raise his pistol and shoot Lieutenant Dodge in the back."

Sturgis Turner was unmoved by this revelation. "How could you be certain in the middle of fierce firefight that it was PFC Secord who shot Lieutenant Dodge?" he asked coolly.

Rafid's eyes fastened onto former submarine officer. "We had just met with the man before the battle, Commander. We knew what he looked like. It was Private Secord."

"Did you hear PFC Secord's conversation with Captain Jalloud?" Bud probed.

Khalil spoke up before Rafid could say anything. "We were standing right next to Captain Jalloud. The Private told us we had a mutual enemy and that our sacrificing our tank would enable us rid ourselves of this common enemy."

Sturgis took over the questioning. "Did he say how?"

"He did not, but the Captain apparently understood his meaning."

Bud looked over at 'The Architect'. "Can you corroborate their testimony, Mr. Youssef?"

Youssef looked defiantly at the Americans and the traitorous Iraqis. His eyes blazed with hatred. "I could care less what these dogs have to say. I will not help with your so-called 'investigation'-"

At that moment Officer al-Surah swiftly grabbed Mustafa Youssef's cuffed wrists. "You will help, you pig, or I will spill your worthless blood all over this courtroom!"

"Do it 'Officer'! I am ready to give my life for Allah!"

"Officer al-Surah!" growled Blakely as Harm and Mac attempted to free Youssef from Haskim's iron grip. Bud and Sturgis moved to help as Floyd and Vince restrained the two former tank crewmen.

Ashton Briggs sat in his office, trying to make sense of these blasted after action reports. Why couldn't he remember these operations? Was someone playing tricks on him? He hoped the trial started again soon. The sooner Lukens and Buell were found guilty, the sooner his unit could get back to its real business.

He wondered idly if General Thornton would stay around for the rest of the proceedings once they started up again?

Right now, he was down at the officer's mess, taking advantage of the break.

He also wondered what Rabb was up to? And who were those three Arabs with the Commander and the Iraqi police officer?

And why the hell couldn't he remember anything about these damned reports?

Briggs was interrupted from his internal tirade by a commotion going on in his outer office.

"Sir, the Colonel is very busy, and he doesn't wish to be disturbed."

The door to Briggs' office opened. An embarrassed Sergeant Jenkins stood out of the way as NCIS Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs strode in towards Briggs desk.

Ashton Briggs looked up at this gray haired civilian with a military haircut. He was trying to place the face, but couldn't. That made him almost as angry as this man barging into his office.

"Colonel, I tried-" Jenkins was ignored by both Gibbs and Briggs.

Briggs stood. "Who the hell are you?"

Gibbs stopped short. He had just locked horns with Briggs eight months ago over another case. Now, the 36th had at the very least a dedicated killer in its ranks and this man wanted to play with him?

(Okay, we'll do this by the book, Colonel) "Special Agent Gibbs," the man produced his ID badge and flipped it open for the Colonel to see "NCIS."

That seemed to trigger something in Ashton's foggy memory. "Special Agent Gibbs?" he said as if trying to remember how he knew this name.

Whatever was going on, Gibbs didn't have time for it. "Colonel, I'm here-"

"I know why you're here and what you're doing, Gibbs!" The MEU Commander barked, "I told you before. Get it done and get it done quickly."

Something was definitely wrong here. "Colonel?" Gibbs eyed the man suspiciously. Just how much did Colonel Briggs know? Did he know that Admiral Chegwidden and his boss, Director Morrow, suspected someone in his unit has ties to the al Qaeda cell that had attacked JAG Corps Headquarters?

His gut told him no. Something else was going on. "I need the complete cooperation of your unit in our investigation."

"Sergeant Jenkins will see to it that every man and woman in my unit will talk with you and your agents, Special Agent Gibbs," Briggs said brusquely as he folded his arms across his chest. He turned to his aide. "Won't you Sergeant?"

A stunned Jenkins looked from Briggs to the Senior NCIS Agent. "A-Aye Sir, this way Special Agent Gibbs,"

As Leroy Jethro Gibbs turned to leave the office, he looked back at Briggs. "Thank you, Colonel," he said tentatively.

"Gibbs," The NCIS agent stopped. Briggs seemed to give the man an appraising look. "Some find me rough around the edges, but truthfully, I'm glad to have you here. It's good to have a former Marine running lead on this forgery case. It's disgusting when a Marine does something like this, especially someone from my unit. Thanks for being willing to do this." Briggs stuck out his hand.

In his minds' eye, Gibbs remembered their first meeting where Briggs had said the same exact thing. It was as if a tape was being played. He firmly grasped the Colonel's hand.

"We'll do our best, Colonel." the Agent said with reverence as they shook hands. Whatever was going on, it was best to show the Colonel respect rather than upset him further.

As Gibbs entered the outer office and closed Ashton Briggs door, he pinned Sergeant Jenkins with a steely look.

"Sergeant, you have about half a minute to tell me what the hell just happened in there."

In front of a packed and intrigued courtroom in the 36th BLT Headquarters, Commander Harmon Rabb, junior, stood in front of the witness stand. He turned to Sergeant As'sam.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, all of you have heard the record of events that occurred the morning of 25 March when the 36th MEU began it's assault on the town of Mirbullah. I will not weary you by repeating what you have already heard. Instead, I want you to hear—"

"Objection, Counsel is clearly giving us a fanciful soliloquy." Bud's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Sustained. Just ask the question Commander, no more editorializing."

Harm was hacked. He had hoped to give the Sergeant's testimony a bigger segue. But Bud's appropriate response to his tactic had blunted that. The best he could do now was let the man's testimony speak for itself.

"Yes Your Honor. Sergeant As'sam, you were the gunner aboard Captain Ahmed Jalloud's tank, will you tell us what you saw the morning of 25 March?"

Khalil As'sam straightened in his chair and cleared his throat.

"Our Guard unit had been assigned to the defense of the al-Qaeda cell in Mirbullah. Though we had suffered heavily from desertion, our ad-hoc unit was still intact. Captain Jalloud, our unit's surviving commanding officer, decided we would make our stand on the hill just outside the town, it would give the perfect vantage point to see the Americans moving into town."

Harm moved closer to the Iraqi noncommissioned officer. "What was Captain Jalloud's reasoning for putting your forces on that hill?"

"Objection, calls for speculation." Bud called out from prosecution table.

Harm turned to Judge Blakely, "Your Honor, Sergeant As'sam was part of the Captain Jalloud's team that assembled the Mirbullah defenses."

"I'll allow it. You may answer the question, Sergeant."

As'sam nodded. "Besides the perfect vantage point and obvious kill zone we would have, we had been told to expect the American Marines to come from that direction."

"Who told you the Marines would be attacking from that side of town?"

"Our al-Qaeda brethren." Khalil said with venom that matched the look of burning hatred in his eyes as he stared at 'The Architect. "They were so sure of themselves. The Pakistanis, the Afghans, the Iranians, they all claimed to be on our side and helping us in our fight with the 'Great Satan'. Instead what they did was recruit the young from this town and other towns for an insane one-sided fight!" The Iraqi tank gunner looked over at the members and then into the sea of American faces staring at him. "Your Marine helicopter gunships hit us from the rear before we were finished digging in. Still, Captain Jalloud told us to stick with the plan, no matter how ghastly our casualties."

"What was the plan, Sergeant?" Harm asked quietly.

"While our unit kept the gunships occupied, Captain Jalloud and Lieutenant Nahib would move their tanks near the town square to ambush your Marines as they assaulted the town. Our job was to attack the force that was entering the southeastern side of town, GATORFORCE ONE."

Gibbs mentally went down the list of witnesses that Admiral Chegwidden had given Director Morrow. Some of these people were in the same unit as the dead Marines, others, based on the notes from the JAGMAN investigation into Lieutenant Dodge's death, could be considered suspects. One thing was sure, the 36th had a high casualty rate and wasn't just from combat operations.

Special Agent Gibbs was about to round a corner when he heard his lead Special Agent, Tony DiNozzo, questioning someone.

"Look Special Agent…." The man had forgotten Tony's name. It was obvious he didn't want to talk to the NCIS Special Agent.

"Anthony DiNozzo, Lance Corporal" Gibbs smiled at Faith Coleman's clipped professional tone reminding the soldier of Tony's name.

"Right," the Lance Corporal said, clearly not appreciating the reminder, "look Agent DiNozzo, I told the JAG Corps investigators all I know about that one. One minute Cap'n Butler's tanker truck was fine and the next minute…'whoosh' it was a ball of fire."

"Whoosh?" Tony repeated sarcastically, "Just what caused it to go 'whoosh'?"

"The rocket propelled grenade sir," he replied as if trying to explain the concept to a three year old, "it ignited the Captain's cargo." Gibbs knew that Tony wouldn't be fazed by the man's blasé and condescending response. Tony was a seasoned detective.

But Faith wanted more details. "Did you see who *fired* the grenade at Captain Butler's *truck*Lance Corporal?"

The Senior NCIS Agent could tell the soldier was getting irritated with Commander Coleman as well, but was trying his best to hide it. After all, she was an officer…a JAG officer to boot, and could have him charged with insubordination.

"Yes ma'am, as I said earlier, I turned when I heard Butler's truck coming down the alley, and saw the insurgent fire the RPG. I returned fire and killed the man, but it was too late."

"Okay, how about Lance Corporal Grearson, did you see who killed him?"

"We all saw that one sir; that is those of us who were near his unit. Enemy sniper got him."

"Did you see where the sniper was firing from, Lance Corporal"?

"Begging your pardon ma'am but there must've been over hundred people firing at us at that point and from every direction as well."

Tony picked up on that verbal clue "Every direction?"

"Yes sir, as I told the JAGs, the rioters had us pinned down pretty good. If it hadn't been for Captain Lewis and Sergeant Colwell, we would've been toast."

"Did you see what happened to Sergeant Colwell?"

"No sir, but I doubt anybody else did either." The Lance Corporal stopped for a beat when it was plain that both investigators were saying 'go on, tell us more' with their facial expressions.

"Captain Lewis was the only one with him, sir. You see, they were escorting the sniper back to BLT Headquarters for questioning. Then somehow the sniper got free and killed Colwell and the Captain killed the sniper in self-defense."

"All right Corporal, thanks for talking with us." Judging from the tone in the former Baltimore detective's voice, Gibbs knew that Tony had finished questioning this man. For now.

If they expected gratitude from this Marine, they weren't going to get it. "Just doing what they order me to, Special Agent. Permission to leave ma'am?"

Faith sounded like she wanted to hold onto him a bit longer but couldn't think of anything else to ask him. "Permission granted."

As soon as the Lance Corporal was out of their earshot, Tony and Faith began comparing notes.

"Well, what do you think?"

"I think Lance Corporal Gifford could stand some lessons in how to have polite conversation…"

"That's not what I meant Commander. What do you think, could he have done it?"

"He did seem like he had something to hide…."

"Well, you know what I think?"

Gibbs grinned. A few more years and Tony would be ready to lead his own team. (Time to see what Tony discovered) Gibbs strode purposefully around the corner.

"DiNozzo!"

"Yeah Boss!" Tony barked almost by instinct. Both he and Faith looked like two kids caught with their hands in the proverbial cookie jar. The JAG's surprised look morphed into irritation. Tony though looked hacked. "Uh, sorry, Boss." He began fumbling with his pocket notepad. "We've interviewed six people so far…."

Gibbs gave the man his best DI stare. "And?"

It had the desired effect. "And, uh, this guy we were just talking to…."

"Lance Corporal Steven Gifford." Gibbs sounded like a mind reader – that was the whole idea behind this little incident.

Again, it had the desired effect. Awe crossed Tony's face. "Um, yeah, Lance Corporal Gifford told us that the shot that killed Sergeant Colwell….uh, I mean Corporal Grearson…."

"Could have come from any direction, Tony?" Gibbs said gently further heightening the impact of his words.

"Uh, yeah, Boss."

"You and Commander Coleman go back to Gifford's unit and see if anyone else saw anything that might tell us who killed Grearson."

"On it Boss!" Tony headed in the direction of Gifford's bivouacked unit.

The silver haired Senior Agent turned to the JAG Corps officer.

"Why are you still here, Commander?" Gibbs said almost as an afterthought.

Faith Coleman was close to putting her hands on her hips in indignation. "You may have Special Agent DiNozzo snowed Gibbs, but I'm not falling for your parlor tricks. You were listening to us from around the corner, weren't you?"

The NCIS Agent and the lawyer stood looking at each other for a few minutes. Then Gibbs smiled.

"Tony's in training." Gibbs said in a matter of fact voice.

"And how long does this *training* last?" she practically snorted.

Gibbs stared at her with his hard blue eyes. "Until he leads his own team. Do you have any other relevant questions for me, Commander?"

"No, I-"

"Then I suggest as part of *my* joint NCIS-JAG team, you go join Agent DiNozzo and interview Corporal Gifford's men."

As much as she hated to admit it, it was his team. "Yes sir," she replied civilly.

The Senior NCIS Agent let the JAG Corps officer walk a few steps away from him. "Commander,"

Faith stopped and turned around. "Yes Special Agent Gibbs?"

"You don't have to 'sir' me. I'm not in the military. Gibbs will be just fine."

Faith wasn't sure what to make of that. Then Gibbs smiled again.

For whatever reason, she smiled too.

Khalil finished his testimony in front of dumbstruck audience and then stepped down. Next the driver for Captain Jalloud, third company's commander, took the stand. After being sworn in by Mac, Corporal T'lass, began to relate what he saw the morning of 25 March.

"We used our night vision scopes to watch the unfolding battle in the town square and had indeed witnessed Lieutenant Dodge's heroics. We entered the western part of the town as instructed by the Al-Qaeda and the Fedayeen and headed toward the stream when we saw Lieutenant Lukens's damaged AH-1 helicopter making its hard landing. We also witnessed this man deliberately placing his vehicle between them and downed helicopter. At about that same time, our unit came under fire from Lieutenant Borden's M1's, which quickly knocked out what was left of our entire under-strength company."

He looked out at the audience of Marines and Sailors. "We didn't even get a chance to begin our evasive maneuvers before our tank was knocked out."

"As we abandoned our tank, we saw several Marines firing toward the big amphibious tracked vehicle. At first, Captain Jalloud and I thought the Marines were firing at the Fedayeen, but then he saw the Lieutenant slump in his hatch. We knew then it that must be the help that our Arab brethren told us would be involved in the killing of the American Marines."

"Did you see who it was who fired the fatal shot, Corporal?"

"Yes I did, he was part of the group that met with us before the Americans moved into Mirbullah."

"And who was in this group that met with your unit Corporal?"

"Sergeant Colwell, Lance Corporal Grearson, Private First Class Secord, and Private First Class Krivstad."

That's a damned lie! Adam Secord yelled as he leapt from his seat. "He's Republican Guard! How can any of you believe him?"

Blakely rapped his gavel so hard Harm thought it was going to break. "Sergeant at Arms! Restrain Private Secord!"

The Sergeant and several other court officers grabbed Secord as he tried to lunge toward the stand.

Rafid looked coldly at the wild-eyed PFC. "I am former Republican Guard! And I have proclaimed my allegiance to Provisional government of my country! You told us your goal was to force the Marine force to retreat and that only by killing Lieutenant Dodge would you be able to do that." Rafid turned to Blakely, "The two helicopter crewmen did not fire on the APC commander and had nothing to do with this plot even though that man tried to make it look like they did."

"You sorry Arab scum!" Secord's eyes blazed with fury. "We should've killed you in that jail cell when we had the chance!"

Both legal teams and Blakely were stunned as was everyone else in the courtroom.

Rafid's calm demeanor was replaced by unbridled anger. Mac deftly grabbed the tank driver as he bolted from his chair. "It was you with that group of assassins that forced their way into our cell! You killed Captain Jalloud! You cursed pig! I will kill you myself!"

The 36th MEU Legal liaisons, Major Barnett and Captain Johnson, grabbed Khalil before he could make a move toward PFC Secord. Harm helped them restrain the man.

By this time Bud and Sturgis had joined Mac in helping control Rafid.

Blakely's gavel was rapping on his desk as if it were attached to a machine. "Order! I will have order in this courtroom now!"

Loud Syntho-Tech music blasted from stereo speakers in the NCIS Forensics Lab as Forensic Specialist Abby Sciuto stood at her computer analyzing the latest blood and tissue samples that Dr. "Ducky' Mallard had just sent to her.

"This is so not cool." She mumbled as she compared the two slides.

"What's 'so not cool' Abby?"

The Goth girl, dressed in a white lab coat turned to see Dr. Mallard's assistant, Gerald, standing next to her.

Abby tapped a key on her keyboard and the volume of the music instantly lowered. "Oh Gerald! Sorry, I didn't hear you come in."

Gerald looked around at the garish but colorful photographs that adorned her lab. The music pulsating from her computer's speakers matched the décor. "I'm not surprised."

He said more to himself than her.

Abby in spite of all her loud music, had a keen sense of hearing. "What did you say?"

"I said, 'what's so not cool?'" he lied, quickly covering for himself.

Abby didn't look like she believed him.

"Oh. Right. Anyway," she tapped a few keys on her keyboard. "These are the blood and tissue samples taken from the dead terrorist at Greenway Downs Shopping Village, and these are the samples taken from that torn rebar in the building where al-Sahood's number two laid himself open after Gibbs nearly caught him last month.

Gerald peeked over her shoulder at her computer screen.

"Do you see it?" The Goth girl asked dejectedly.

Gerald looked intently at the two slides for a moment. "They're not the same."

Abby sounded more morose than ever. "Yeah, Gerald, exactly. This was someone surgically altered to look like him."

Gerald picked up quickly on what she was saying. "Then that means…"

Abby nodded. "…al-Harib is still out there…somewhere."

-TBC…


	50. Chapter 49

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 49

A/N1: Disclaimers and other vital information can be found in story archive for …FMS which can be found chapter story notes.

A/N2: **~~** indicates flashback or dream sequence ( ) indicates the thoughts of a person. *~* indicates a scene shift not otherwise indicated by a JAG time stamp.

A/N3: Thanks to my friend and beta Karen who is my sounding board and has helped me see this through. Kudoes to AeroGirl, Mkim, Soleil, TZ, Janlaw for providing their help and technical expertise. Also thanks to Lisa Griffon [Yahoo Shipper Group] for her continuing support.

1554 Local

Camp Chesty Puller – 36th MEU BLT HQ

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

After PFC Secord and Mustafa Youssef had been placed under arrest and sent to the brig, Judge Blakely announced a fifteen minute recess so that both Counsels could digest what had happened.

For a moment as everyone filed out of the room, Colonel Blakely stared numbly at the aviator/lawyer. He really wanted to ask Harmon Rabb, 'Commander Rabb, do you ever have a normal courtroom case?'

He figured that the Commander's sheepish reply would be, 'No, Your Honor, I don't believe I ever have.'

It was now approaching 1600. Both counsels had taken their places at their respective tables and a subdued audience slowly filed into the room. Rafid, Khalil and Haskim sat in the audience behind the defense table. Harm and Mac shared hopeful glances and gave Lieutenants Lukens and Buell encouraging looks. But would this be enough to get their clients off?

The Bubblehead had been looking again at the report that Mac had given him. After the earth shattering revelations from earlier today, he thought he should take a quick look at the page Mac had marked. There it was in black and white – even he couldn't deny it. What Harm and Mac had been saying all along was true; worse yet, Bud was right – someone else had shot Lieutenant Dodge.

Presently, the Sergeant acting as bailiff came back into the room.

"All rise!"

Everyone stood as Judge Clifford Blakely strode into the room and took his place at the bench.

"Please be seated." Blakely quickly conferred with the LN who served as stenographer and then reviewed his own notes. What had started out as a General Court-Martial had turned into the arrest of two enemy combatants, one of whom had murdered a Marine in cold blood.

"Commander? What's wrong?" Bud whispered to the first chair.

Sturgis closed the report. "I think I just figured out who killed Lieutenant Dodge…." the Naval Commander whispered back grimly.

Blakely scanned Harm and Mac's table. "Does the Defense have any other witnesses?"

Harm slid a look to Mac. The Marine light Colonel returned it and stood. "Your Honor, the defense rests." With that announcement, she sat back down.

Blakely tapped his gavel, silencing the murmurs that filled the court room. "Order."

Bud noticed that despite Mac's jaw dropping announcement, Commander Turner hadn't moved. He was unsure what this meant to their prosecution strategy. "Sir?"

"…and it's not the accused." Sturgis said as he noted Blakely turning his head toward him.

The military judge looked over at the prosecution table. "Counsel?"

Bud and Major Barnett conferred with Sturgis for a moment before he stood and cleared his throat.

"The prosecution has no rebuttal, Your Honor."

Again Blakely had to tap the room into silence "Order."

The military judge looked sternly at both tables. "Are there any motions?"

This time Harm stood. "Your Honor, based on the testimony just given by our witnesses, I'd like to ask that all charges against our clients be dismissed. And I further move for a finding of not guilty. This case *should not* go to the members."

Blakely turned to Commander Turner. "Does the government concur?"

Sturgis glanced at Bud and Vince who nodded in agreement. "In light of the unusual circumstances, we agree, Your Honor, the Government has no objection."

Again, the room broke into loud murmurs, which the military judge tapped into silence. "Order."

Since the recess, Stuart Dunston and his ever present cameraman, Sully, had been in the back of the room filming the entire proceeding, with Blakely's, the convening authority's and the trial counsel's approval since the recess. On television screens tuned to ZNN around the world, the word 'Exclusive' was plastered in the appropriate corner as the drama unfolded.

Blakely cleared his throat. "Motion granted. Will the accused please rise?"

The Cobra gunship crew of FIREFLY ONE rose to their feet.

"In the matter of Docket number 5121219,VR-7, The United States versus 1st Lieutenant Benjamin F. Lukens and 2nd Lieutenant Fredrick P. Buell, in light of the witnesses that the defense has produced and the compelling evidence these witnesses presented, I find the accuseds…Not Guilty of all charges and specifications."

Before Ben and Fred could begin smiling as they received smiles and warm handshakes from their defense team, Blakely continued in stern voice.

"However, Lieutenant Lukens; the evidence presented by the prosecution throughout this trial has shown there to be a lack of professionalism and personal self discipline in you that is normally present in an officer of your caliber and experience. Therefore I am recommending to the convening authority that post-traumatic counseling be obtained, but that no disciplinary action taken."

"As senior officer and mentor to Lieutenant Buell, you have an obligation to conduct yourself in a professional manner and serve as a positive role model for him as well as other members of your squadron. Please do not let me regret my leniency with you."

"And Lieutenant, if you ever enter my courtroom again, I'll make sure your flying status is permanently revoked." Then Blakely turned to the members. "Madam President and fellow members; I want to thank you for your brief, but invaluable, service in these proceedings. This trial is hereby adjourned."

With the final bang of the gavel, Harm and Mac smiled, warmly shaking the hands of the helicopter gunship crew.

Captain Johnson held out his hand as well. "Lieutenants, I offer my deepest apologies." Floyd turned to the three Iraqis who were now standing behind Harm and Mac. "Thank you gentlemen."

"You couldn't have known, sir," Buell replied with his characteristic friendly voice. "We were beginning to wonder ourselves."

Ben Lukens broke into a smile at that comment as gentle laughter rumbled through the group.

"Ben?" The MEU SJAG liaison queried, "Are we okay?"

Ben Lukens gave the SJAG an understanding look. "You were just doing your job, just like our defense team did theirs, sir. No hard feelings. As Freddie said, if we had been in your shoes, we would have doubted us too." He and Lieutenant Lukens exchanged a warm handshake.

"Major Barnett." Fred Buell said by way of announcement as the trial team walked over. The helo crew and the MEU SJAG came to attention.

The MEB SJAG stood in front of Captain Johnson as if this were an inspection tour. The Cobra crew stood at rigid attention. Vince Barnett paused, then stuck out his hand.

"Damn fine job of lawyering, Captain," he then looked over at the JAG Corps officers. Colonel, Commander, my congratulations on a job well done."

"Thank you sir," responded Floyd Johnson. "But all I did was offer the Colonel and the Commander some suggestions, they did the lion's share of the work."

"Thank you Major, but we wouldn't have been able to do this without the help of Officer al-Surah, Sergeant As'sam and Corporal T'lass," Harm added.

"I know Commander," Major Barnett looked at the three Iraqis. "Officer al-Surah, Sergeant, Corporal, we're in your debt. Thank you for coming forward."

"The guilty should pay for their crimes, according to Allah, not the innocent," replied Sergeant Khalil, "Justice has been served. Captain Jalloud and the others who have died at their hands have been avenged." Haskim and Rafid nodded their agreement to this.

The two SJAGs shared a knowing look. "We'll make sure of that Sergeant." Vince replied.

"Thank you, Major, Captain, you are honorable men." Both the Sergeant and Corporal saluted Floyd and Vince, who quickly returned their salute.

Harm smiled and shook Sturgis Turner's hand. "Good try old buddy. I thought had us there a couple of times."

"I *did* have you a couple of times, Commander" Sturgis said jokingly. "Good job Harm. And Mac, I owe you one."

The Marine light Colonel feigned innocence. "For what Sturgis, all I did was provide you a report from the CIA."

Sturgis gave her a knowing look, "We'll talk more, later, Colonel."

"Great job, ma'am, sir, Captain," Bud said effusively, "That was brilliant."

"Easy Bud, don't be too reserved," Harm said jokingly.

Gentle laughter again rippled through the group.

0029 Zulu

Bethesda Naval Hospital ICU

Bethesda, Maryland

Sunday 13 July

Cassandra Ramirez's eyes flicked open and she began gasping for air, grabbing at the breathing tube in her mouth.

The nurse on duty had just started to make her rounds on this floor when she came into the Marine Sergeant's room. She hurried over to the woman's side.

"Sergeant? Sergeant Ramirez! Can you hear me?"

Cassie stopped struggling and looked oddly at the nurse…as if she was trying to remember who she was.

"Listen to me, Sergeant. The respirator is helping you breathe, do you want me to take the tube out and let you breathe on your own?"

The Marine nodded gratefully, blinking back pooling tears, before closing her eyes again. The nurse quickly left to get the resident on duty.

-TBC…


	51. Chapter 50

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 50

A/N1: Disclaimers and other vital information can be found in story archive for …FMS which can be found in the chapter story notes.

A/N2: **~~** indicates flashback ~~~~ indicates dream sequence ( ) indicates the thoughts of a person. *~* indicates a scene shift not otherwise indicated by a JAG time stamp.

A/N3: Thanks to my friend and beta Karen who is my sounding board and has helped me see this through. Kudoes to AeroGirl, Janlaw, Mkim, Soleil, and TZ, for providing their help and technical expertise. Also thanks to Lisa Griffon [Yahoo Shipper Group] for her continuing support.

0829 Local

Batchelor/Visitor Officer Quarters

Camp Chesty Puller

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Sunday 13 July, 2003

Mac was sitting on her bed reviewing her final report regarding the case. She thought back to the tumultuous events of yesterday; the trial and Harm's sudden appearance with not one or two, but three witnesses. She remembered with a warm afterglow, the thanks they got from the crew of FIREFLY ONE and surprisingly, there was praise from Admiral Chegwidden for a job well done, despite ZNN's exclusive coverage of the surprise ending.

Flyboy had told her he had an ace up his sleeve. 'Stall but don't stall' he had told her before he left on his 'secret' mission. Whatever connections he had made while working at the CIA had paid off. It resulted in PFC Secord panicking and revealing he was one of the hit squad members who had participated in the killings of Lieutenant Dodge, Captain Jalloud, and Captain Butler.

Even more shocking was that Secord admitted he had eliminated all the other members of the squad – PFC Krivstad, Corporal Grearson, and Sergeant Colwell – so he could keep all the money 'The Architect' had paid them - for himself.

Despite the good fortune, the bitter pill soon followed.

As the crew of FIREFLY ONE walked out of the courtroom with the JAG Corps officers and the SJAG attorneys, Colonel Briggs' aide stopped them. He threw them all a quick salute.

The attorneys returned the man's salute. "Sergeant Jenkins," Harm had said evenly, "What can we do for you?"

"Begging your pardon sirs," he nodded toward Mac, "and ma'am, but the Colonel needs to see Lieutenants Lukens and Buell in his office, ASAP."

"Tell the Colonel we're on our way, Sergeant," Lukens had replied crisply. They exchanged salutes and the Sergeant headed back towards Colonel Briggs' office.

"Well Commander, Colonel, duty calls." He and Buell again shook hands with Harm and Mac. "Thank you again, Colonel, Commander."

"Ben?" Floyd said tentatively, exchanging a concerned look with other SJAGs "Do you want us to come with you?"

"Thank you sirs, for the offer," Ben Lukens said quickly, "But we have to face the Colonel on our own."

The crew of FIREFLY ONE again exchanged salutes with the attorneys before heading down the hall to Colonel Briggs' office.

"What's going to happen to them?" Bud asked as he watched the men proceed down the hall.

"It's anybody's guess at this point, Lieutenant," Major Barnett said with some tension filling his tone, "The Colonel's been so mercurial lately, that he could throw the book at them."

"He could ground them, Bud, for any number of reasons," Harm added. "The most likely one would be psych evals or pending a formal review of the incident. And he would be within his rights as the MEU's commanding officer."

Mac remembered they were soon summoned to Briggs' office where a heated conversation was taking place…

"You're grounding us, Sir?"

"I have my reasons Lieutenant, you're dismissed."

"But, Sir…!"

"Lieutenant, did you not hear me? You're dismissed."

"By your leave…Sir."

She remembered Harm telling the Lieutenant that the Colonel was about to send 'a Stinger up his six' if he kept pressing the issue, but the pilot didn't want to hear it.

As he strode away, Darcy Livingston had walked up to them.

"It's too bad about the crew of FIREFLY ONE, but Colonel Briggs has his reasons for doing this…."

"Which you put into his head, Colonel."

"Harm don't-"

"Don't what, Cher? Are you protecting the Commander? Not exactly the straight arrow I thought you were MacKenzie. I've read your dossier, Colonel, what a disappointment…"

"I wouldn't be too worried about my dossier, Colonel. We're going to be following up on allegations of blanket parties and Code Reds within your unit…."

"What are you going to do, put the gris-gris on me, Colonel MacKenzie?"

Mac had to snap herself out of those angry thoughts that scene had generated. Her mind floated back to the trial.

Even though he had been labeled a hostile witness, 'The Architect' had filled in all the missing parts with his testimony. After his outburst at the closed meeting Mac hadn't expected him to be so cooperative, but maybe Secord's meltdown made him realize the futility of trying to keep what they did a secret any longer.

Maybe.

Mac quickly hopped off her bed when she heard a knock at her door. Still thinking about 'The Architect's' sudden change of heart, without really thinking about it, she opened her door.

There stood Harmon Rabb jr. on her doorstep with a troubled look on his face.

"Hey," she said easily, giving him a diminutive smile. Her face instantly melted into concern. "Harm?"

"Uh, hey, Mac, is it, ah, all right if I come in?" the aviator/lawyer said absently, his eyes focused on her. The Marine light Colonel could tell something was weighing heavily on the Commander's mind. And she had a good idea what it was.

"Sure, come on in," she said opening the door wider as Harm brushed past her. He headed to her desk as she closed her door.

"'The Architect'…Mustafa Youssef wasn't telling everything he knew…." The tall Naval Commander said as he picked up her notes from the trial. He immediately looked up at her, half embarrassed. "Uh, do you mind if I take a look at your notes?"

In the past Commander 'Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead' would have just started perusing her notes until she pulled him up short or yanked the papers out of his hands.

"Um, no, no, go ahead." As he flipped through her notes, her curiosity was piqued. "Harm? Just what are you looking for?"

Harm gave his partner a brief smile before resuming his examination of her notes. "I know it sounds crazy Mac, but you may have written something down about Youssef's behavior as he testified."

Mac walked over and taking the papers in her hands, gently flipped the page. "I started making notes about him right here," she said as she pointed to the section. The aviator/lawyer gave her a brief acknowledgement of thanks before they both began perusing the document.

"Here it is, '…he keeps looking at Captain Lewis…. Why?'" Harm gave his partner a knowing look. "He keeps looking at him and Darcy Livingston, Mac, because they are involved."

Mac sucked in a breath. (Here we go, time to play devil's advocate, again.) Even though she knew he was right about the Captain and the Lieutenant Colonel. "It's another piece of circumstantial evidence, Harm, unless we get Youssef to talk." She knew she sounded like a broken record, but she hoped he would come up with another way to get the evidence they needed.

Harm snorted his disgust at likelihood of getting Youssef to admit what he knew. "We're going to have to approach this from a different angle."

"What kind of different angle Harm?" she asked as he headed toward the door.

So he had thought of another way to get the evidence they needed. Funny, that idea made her nervous. Maybe it was because Harmon Rabb could come up with some pretty…original ways to solve a problem.

He turned back to her. "How do you feel about going undercover?"

Mac raised one eyebrow quizzically. "Just me?"

"In this particular case," he said candidly.

So what did Flyboy have up his sleeve now? "Okay, doing what?" She put her hands on her hips.

His answer left her agog. "We need to get you into Darcy's Force Recon unit."

It took her a moment to get her brain back into gear. Mac began shaking her head. "No Harm, no. I haven't been on a Force Recon mission since 1995." She walked past him toward the door. "You have more recent experience than me doing this, remember?"

He smiled at her, "That's true, but are you sure you want me going back into a Force Recon unit, Mac?" His tone was playful.

Her mind flashed briefly on Harm nearly getting killed as he tried to rescue that injured Force Recon soldier. "Well, you did look pretty enticing in that Marine Uniform, Gunny," she let the light tone of her voice mask her uneasiness.

Harm smiled at the memory of her 'inspecting' him. "Thanks, but I think Darcy would ask too many questions about me wanting to join her unit, Marine. She and I didn't exactly hit it off when we first met, you know."

Mac started to chuckle when suddenly she froze as she heard that voice out of her nightmares.

He's a fine one, Hon, you wouldn't mine sharing him, would you?

Harm immediately noticed the sudden shift in his partner's demeanor. "Mac?"

She turned back to him. "Harm, not only is this crazy, it's dangerous! If Colonel Livingston is really involved in this like we think she is, she's already responsible for the deaths of a half dozen Marines. Killing one more Marine and a Naval officer won't bother her conscience a bit."

Harm pinned her with that 'we're doing this no matter what' look of his. "Mac, we have to stop her. You know it…we both know it. This is the only way."

"Haarm," she groaned (Please, Harm, not now….)

"Mac, the only way we can nail her is by getting to her from the inside. You do want to

nail her, don't you?"

That stopped Mac cold. "What are you implying, Commander? You know I want to nail her as bad as you do, but we *need* more."

"And this is the only way we're going to *get more*. Trust me, Mac, this will work."

She could see the excitement in his blue eyes, but Mac really didn't care about what he wanted at this point. She didn't like the way he was trying to manipulate her into this. "I shouldn't have to prove anything to you, Commander," she said sadly and turned away from him.

Harm stopped, stunned. Then his shoulders sagged as Mac walked away. In times past, Mac would have risen to his challenge, but he had forgotten that things were different now.

"You're right, Mac, you shouldn't have to prove it to me." he said quietly. "I-I shouldn't have done that to you, it wasn't fair. I just want to get her Mac. Put an end to this and stop these nightmares."

The nightmares. She wanted them to go away too. Mac stopped again with her back to him. She closed her eyes and sighed heavily.

She walked over to the door and opened it. She was going to ask Harm to give her some time to think about this plan; instead, she found herself standing face to face with Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

He gave both of them his famous stony stare that he reserved for suspects. "Colonel, Commander, I think we need to talk."

Marla turned off the television. Now that the drugs they had given her to enforce sleep had worn off, she was getting bored. There was nothing good on and besides, her arm was beginning to throb again, making it hard to concentrate.

She sighed.

Her eyes drifted up to the window, where she could see the late summer sun beginning to fade behind the Virginia mountains.

It made her long for the sweet smell of pine and the rugged north Alabama mountains she could see from her window back at her parent's house. She idly thought about how much fun it would be to be able to go rafting down the Coosa river –without her injuries, of course. That made her chuckle.

It made her think about an old Doobie Brother's song. She began singing it without really thinking about what she was doing.

Marla didn't hear the door open. "Well I'll build me a raft and she's ready for floatin…"

She was startled when someone else finished the line for her…

"Aw, Mississippi keeps callin my name…."

…a male somebody.

"Pete-! Uh, I mean, Corporal Bauer, how, um, nice of you to come by…." Marla stammered nervously.

She was glad she didn't have a mirror right now; she knew she looked like a fright. "I didn't know you were a Doobie Brothers fan."

"I'm not really," he saw her deflate a little at that comment and hastily added, "But I knew you were, and I got you this…."

He handed her the CD jewel case. She looked at it for a moment before her eyes lit up.

"Wow! Southern Rock Unleashed!" She was close to squealing. "Uh, I mean thank you Pete, uh, Corporal Bauer…." She hurriedly turned the case over and examined the play list.

"Atlanta Rhythm Section, the Eagles, Ozark Mountain Daredevils-"

"-And the Doobie Brothers," Pete said, reaching over and pointing to the group's name. He and the Sergeant immediately became aware that their hands were almost touching.

He pulled back as did she. "Uhhh, well, anyway, I hope you like it…." He said lamely.

"Oh I do, Corporal, really, thank you…." Why did she feel like explaining how she felt to him?

The two noncommissioned officers lapsed into an uncomfortable silence.

"So, um, so how are you feeling?" Pete ventured, wanting to fill this void

"My arm is throbbing a little bit-" her eyes flared open as he reached for the nurse's call button. "But it's nothing I can't handle...really."

He put the call button back on the tray beside her bed. "Oh. Well, all right." The silence returned, but this time, it was not as cloying. She smiled at him. Pete felt the color rising on his face and something else. He smiled sheepishly at her.

Harm and Mac exchanged troubled glances.

"Come in, Special Agent Gibbs," Mac said straightforwardly as she opened her door wider.

The Senior NCIS Agent quickly surveyed the room and its two occupants as he stepped inside. Papers, probably from the trial, were scattered on her desk. The Colonel's bed had been sat on recently, but only by one person. Still, both of them looked as if they had been caught doing something they shouldn't. Gibbs noticed that Rabb had now moved closer to the Colonel. There was something definitely going on here and it definitely didn't have to do with their case.

"What can we do for you, Special Agent Gibbs?" Harm asked evenly, in a somewhat friendly tone, which still held tinges of defensiveness.

Gibbs smiled. "Still acting as spokesman, Commander?"

"When I have to," Harm seemed to stand straighter if that were possible. Probably a posturing move. That didn't bother the NCIS Agent.

Mac fought the urge to say 'would you two knock it off?' She cut off Harm's next bravado ploy. "What can we do for you, Special Agent Gibbs?"

Gibbs stared at the two JAG Corps lawyers for a moment before focusing his eyes on the pretty Lieutenant Colonel. "You can start, Colonel, by telling me about your run-in with PFC Krivstad."

She nodded. "We were in the middle of our JAGMAN investigation into Lieutenant Dodge's death. I left my quarters to get a breath of fresh air. He walked up to me in the dark-introduced himself as Lieutenant Colonel Robin Glover from the MEU's S-2 intel unit."

"Colonel?"

"Yes, Colonel?"

"There's really no reason to investigate this…."

"Why not?"

"Lukens and Buell are guilty."

"Oh, and how can you be so sure?"

"Well, the circumstantial evidence is pretty damning-"

"-the key word, Colonel, is 'circumstantial'."

"-and there are several key eyewitnesses…."

"-eyewitnesses can be deceived into believing things that aren't true."

"You're not going to win this one, Colonel MacKenzie"

"Why did he introduce himself as a Lieutenant Colonel?" Gibbs asked.

"That's enough," Harm said protectively.

Gibbs shot the Commander a threatening look. "Are you interfering with my investigation, Commander?"

Harm returned Gibbs' steel gaze. "I'm her legal counsel, Special Agent."

Mac gave Harm a sympathetic look. "It's okay, Harm." She turned back to the NCIS Agent. "I would guess he figured that would intimidate me."

"It didn't, did it?

"No." Mac said firmly as she remembered his comments and the emotions they stoked in her.

"Colonel Glover, these men deserve a fair hearing and a chance for their side of the story to be told."

"Spare me, Colonel, I've heard it before-"

"Well maybe you haven't heard it enough-"

"Colonel, you need to be more careful-"

"Are you threatening me, Colonel Glover?"

"I'm just saying be careful; this is still a hostile country, filled with people unfriendly to the United States. Soldiers die in this country almost every day—I'm just saying you should…exercise caution."

"As for us, the sooner we can get back to our business and stop screwing around out here…the better."

"Even at the cost of two innocent lives?"

"No one is innocent in war, Colonel MacKenzie. Have a good night. Think about what I've said."

"Did he say anything else?"

"No, he just walked away. I went back inside and told the Commander and other members of the JAGMAN team about his threat."

(So now I have two other potential suspects in addition to Commander Rabb) Gibbs wondered briefly why he and Rabb always seemed to wind up on opposite ends of a murder investigation.

"Commander, you found Krivstad's body, didn't you?"

"That's right." Harm knew what he was thinking. They had been here before. Last time it involved protecting his half-brother, Sergei, this time it involved protecting Mac.

Now it was Mac's turn to act as legal counsel. "Harm, don't say anything else."

Gibbs focused his steel blue eyes on her. "Colonel, withholding information during a criminal investigation is a charge-able offense…now, do you want to tell me the rest, Commander?"

"It's okay, Mac, I know my rights." He turned back to Gibbs. "I went out for walk."

"And ended up five miles north of the MEU, Commander?" Gibbs said cracking a sarcastic smile, "At that time of night?"

"The Colonel and I had a disagreement about the case. I went out for walk to organize my thoughts." Harm stated unconvincingly.

Gibbs reaction was unsympathetic. "And you just happened to end up going over the bridge where you found PFC Krivstad's body? C'mon, Commander."

"That's right." The aviator/lawyer said firmly, not budging from his statement. "As soon as I found the body, I called it in."

Gibbs studied the tall Naval officer. There was no doubt in the investigator's mind Rabb could have easily inflicted the fatal injuries that Krivstad had suffered. "Can you account for where you were during period from 2200 to 0020 hours that evening?"

Harm's answer sounded like some bad writing out of a late night low budget crime movie. "I was with the JAGMAN team, Gibbs, we were following up leads on PFC Krivstad's masquerade. The Colonel can verify this."

Mac nodded her agreement, "He's telling the truth."

That ended any overt suspicions that the Commander could have killed the PFC, Gibbs thought to himself, so why lie about how he found Krivstad? Gibbs' gut told him to find out.

"You don't believe me, do you?" Harm said, probing the investigator.

"About how you found Krivstad? You don't really expect me to, do you?" The Senior NCIS Special Agent gave the former Top Gun a flinty stare. "What really happened out there, Commander? How did you run across PFC Krivstad's body?"

Mac spoke first before Harm could say anything. "We…we had an argument…about the Commander's…overprotective tendencies toward me…. Harm stalked off…."

"Maac!" Harm's eyes shot open is disbelief and panic. Was she implicating him?

(Now we're getting somewhere,) Gibbs thought, (So there is something going on between these two. I suspected it when I first saw them in the JAG Corps briefing room when we were investigating Lieutenant Singer's death…. It wouldn't be hard for her to cover for him killing someone else. They're in love.) He mentally moved the Commander back toward the top of his suspect list.

Mac was continuing her impromptu statement. "…the rest of us, Commander Turner, Lieutenant Roberts and me, didn't learn about where he had gone until he came back to the camp and told us about the body."

"What time was that, Colonel?"

"0305 hours." Mac unconsciously looked down at her watch and then back at Gibbs giving him an embarrassed smile. "I remember because, uh, I looked at my watch when he came back to the VOQ."

Mac sat down on the edge of the bed, obviously relieved to get this off her chest despite her partner's misgivings. The Commander took his place beside her, taking her hands.

"Mac," he said softly, holding her hands and looking into her tear filled eyes. "I didn't kill Krivstad, please believe me."

Gibbs had seen it before…hundreds of times. An angry lover, seething over a spat, lashes out at an innocent person. He now actually felt sorry for the Navy's top lawyer.

"Commander?" he said quietly. It was time for Harmon Rabb to come clean.

Mac looked up into Gibbs' sympathetic eyes. "He's telling the truth, Gibbs. If Harm says he didn't kill Krivstad, I believe him."

(She's protecting him again) he thought sadly. (Defending him to the last.) "Do you have any evidence to corroborate this?"

Mac looked back at the NCIS Agent, willing her tears not to spill down her face. "I do. I interviewed the man who helped Harm locate the body. He was a local Bedouin."

"You know Arabic, Colonel?"

She nodded. "Yes. He told me that he saw a helmeted Marine shoved Krivstad out of a Hum-vee and over the bridge railing just before Harm arrived. Harm had been wearing his boonie hat that night"

Her eyes met Gibbs' again. "Like you, I'm trained to detect when people are lying. The Bedouin wasn't lying."

For the NCIS investigator the circumstantial evidence still pointed to the Commander, but despite this, his gut told him differently. She wasn't covering for Rabb.

Mac squeezed Harm's hands for reassurance as she looked into his eyes. "I won't let you be accused of murder again, Harm," she said huskily, putting her hand to the side of his face. To hell with protocol. " I love you too much to let that happen again."

Gibbs realized he was witnessing something that had been long hidden between them that had recently come to the surface. He had thought it first it was just another relationship based on the passion of forbidden love. But this was something that he hadn't expected to uncover in the course of a murder investigation.

Harm felt the warmth and determination of her statement, but declaring this in front of Gibbs was not what he had expected. "I love you too, Mac" Harm said softly to her, affirming how he felt about her, ignoring the fact that Special Agent Gibbs was observing them. And why not? Their secret was out in the open at least in this particular case.

However, deep down Harm was shocked that Mac would do this, but then things between them had changed since Paraguay. And this time for the better.

Gibbs looked on as the seemingly dispassionate observer, but deep down he understood those powerful emotions. He had felt them many a time with Shannon. But their closeness also reminded him of another couple…two people in love, but also dedicated to their jobs. He thought back to that relationship where he had experienced the same kind of conflict.

Marseille, France with Jen Sheppard. His mind flashed back to those intimate moments they had shared. The dinners, the laughter, the kidding….

He had exhibited the same kind of tenderness and over protectiveness toward Jen. In the end, the over protectiveness cost him that relationship.

"He won't be accused of murder, Colonel." he said simply to the two JAG Corps officers.

Harm and Mac exchanged relieved looks. "You believe my story then?" Harm said as he stood.

Gibbs wasn't going to let him off that easy. "No, but I believe her." Maybe it was because the Commander had been so antagonistic at first.

"So where do we go from here?" Mac asked.

The NCIS Agent didn't mince words. "We find out who did kill PFC Krivstad and the others."

"Mac, uh, that is, the Colonel and I, have a theory about that," Harm replied. He could almost see his partner visibly cringe at the thought of what he was going to say next.

Even though in the Senior NCIS Agent's eyes Harm wasn't a suspect anymore, Gibbs hadn't made up his mind how he felt about this hotshot naval lawyer and JAG Corps 'poster boy'.

"And your theory is?" he said blandly.

"Captain Lewis and Lieutenant Colonel Livingston are involved in the killings," Harm stated succinctly.

Ever the investigator, Leroy Jethro Gibbs wanted more. "Involved how?"

2131 Local

Bethesda Naval Hospital

Bethesda, Maryland

Jennifer's eyes were moist with tears of frustration. What she thought was a simple maneuver, getting up and climbing into a wheelchair, had turned into an abject lesson in futility. Her injured body had mocked her attempts to even sit upright for very long. The pain medication for her wounds only compounded the problem, making her dizzy as well.

Harm went on to elaborate on his theory. "All of the deceased were briefly in Colonel Livingston's unit before being reassigned to Captain Lewis' company. In one way or another all those killed, including Lieutenant Dodge, had a direct or indirect connection with Livingston."

"We also know that Captain Lewis has active ties to the Defense Security Division, I mean, the Defense Services Directorate." Mac added.

Gibbs eyes lit up in recognition of the name. "Jacques Lewis?" he repeated.

Mac exchanged a look of questioning surprise with Harm. "You know him?"

"I knew of him. He was with the Marine Mobile Training Teams in Columbia." Gibbs didn't elaborate much to the attorneys' surprise. Instead he focused on Harm's idea.

"So what's your plan?"

"Colonel MacKenzie has worked with Force Recon before. She's going to infiltrate Livingston's unit and gather evidence against her." Harm said as he exchanged confident looks with Mac.

The senior NCIS Agent smiled and lowered his head as he shook it. Then he looked directly at Mac. "How long has it been since you worked Force Recon, Colonel?"

"Summer of 1995," Mac said a little defensively, taking his stare as a challenge, "I served in Bosnia with the 2nd of the 9th."

Now it was her turn to size up Gibbs. "You think you could do a better job?"

Gibbs chuckled, revealing for the first time a warm smile. "My Force Recon experience is a little staler than yours, Colonel." he said wryly.

Harm had to know. "How stale, Gibbs?"

"Summer of 1991, Bosnia." the agent again only confirmed the bare bones, length of time and where, but nothing else.

But Gibbs terse response masked what he saw in his mind as he flashed back on his tour in Bosnia as a scout/sniper with his Force Recon team. In rapid succession, he reeled through the stark images. The town they had scouted, Birchko, with its friendly people; the children he had befriended there; then being ordered out by NATO forces; and finally coming back later and finding the village a smoldering ruin.

Mac watched as Gibbs' face showed traces of regret and anguish before they disappeared behind his investigator façade again.

Harm noticed it too. There was more to Special Agent Gibbs than just a hard-nosed NCIS Agent. It painted a very different picture of the man than Harm had remembered when they had their infamous confrontation at JAG Corps Headquarters back in April.

The aviator/lawyer was about to say something when Mac's cell phone began to ring.

"Excuse me," she said as walked away from the two men as she fished her phone out of her pant's pocket and opened it. "Colonel MacKenzie."

The voice was distant and almost drowned out by static. "Sarah? I can't hear you very well…."

"Clay?" Gibbs noticed that name had an immediate effect on the Commander, and not a good one judging from the look on his face.

"Sarah, we need to talk. Are you alone?" Clayton Webb sounded like he was shouting so he could be heard over the static.

Mac looked over at the two men. "Clay, now's not a good time to talk-"

Clayton Webb's voice echoed as the connection started to degrade even further. "Well make time. What are you doing?"

"I'm being interviewed by NCIS," she said sharply. Gibbs noticed that this 'Clay' person seemed to have negative effect on her as well, though she was trying her best to be civil with him.

"What for?" It was a typical Webb response.

She would have throttled him if he were in reach. She decided to try and be polite one last time. "Clay-"

Again the CIA Agent cut her off. "Sarah, do you realize what you and Rabb have done? I just spent the last half hour being chewed on by Deputy Director Kershaw and DCI Watts for that melodramatic piece played out over ZNN."

Why would his superiors chew him out over something they had done? Mac's voice betrayed her confusion at this seemingly nonsensical statement. "What? Clay, you're not making any-"

"Sarah, listen to me, you don't know who you're dealing with. A burst of angry sounding static bombarded her ears. "…Secord isn't the dangerous one. He's merely the fall guy!"

That comment was loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room.

The light Colonel felt a frozen ball of fear growing in her stomach. Harm saw the look on her face and immediately reflected her fear in his face as he moved closer to her. Gibbs intrigued by this turn of events, moved closer as well.

The static died off for moment and Webb's voice became crystal clear. "…What I'm telling you could get me fired, Colonel, but you need to know. We have reason to believe the traitors in 36th MEU are Colonel Livingston and Captain Lewis."

Mac cupped her cell phone as she informed her partner and the NCIS Agent. "Webb says Livingston and Lewis are the suspected traitors. Secord's just a fall guy."

Gibbs didn't like being left out of this loop. "How does this 'Mister Webb' know this?"

"Secrets within secrets," grumbled Harm as he reached for her phone. "Top Secret, Level two compartmented. Let me speak with him, Mac."

An annoyed look crawled across Gibbs face. "Is he speaking a foreign language?"

"It's a long story," she said wryly to the NCIS Agent as she handed the phone to her partner.

Mac knew if she refused to give him the phone, an argument would erupt, and that was the very last thing they needed right now.

"Webb, how did you get involved in this?" Harm snapped as he began speaking into the phone.

The CIA Agent was caught off guard by the switching of voices. "Rabb?" Nevertheless the man quickly recovered. "I was involved from day one, Commander, you just never knew it. By the way, you need to report in, you're way overdue for giving your status report."

"Status report?" Harm couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Webb, in case the news hadn't reached you yet, I'm out of the CIA. *Blaisedell let me go*."

Clayton Webb almost sounded like he was smirking.

"Harm, you should know by now that you can never really stop working for us. By the way, tell Sarah that thanks to her phone call, Mr. Green at the DSD made a call to my boss and asked 'why are JAG Corps officers and NCIS Agents involved in CIA operation?'"

Harm was livid. "DSD?" he barked. "A CIA operation?" That made Gibbs' eyebrows raise a notch.

Clayton Webb's distant voice remained free of static. "A CIA operation, Commander. We've been working on this one since March."

Harm struggled to get his emotions back under control as he gripped the cell phone tighter. "Since when does the CIA and the Defense Security Division work together on any kind of operation, Webb?"

"For God's sake, Harm, you should be able to figure that one out!" Webb snarled and then seemed to pull himself together. "Since it concerns national security and an attack on a US military installation in the Washington DC area."

Jason Tiner lay back on his bed, sweating profusely and exhausted from his effort. The wheelchair was so close and it looked simple enough to climb out of the bed and into the chair. That way he could go and visit Jennifer. He really wanted to see how she was doing.

His leg, however, refused to cooperate, plus, the effort made his head throb. Not to mention a finger of pain from his bullet graze lanced through his skull, forcing him to lie back.

"You knew there was going to be a terrorist attack on JAG Corps?" He could just imagine what the Admiral did when the former Special Assistant to the Undersecretary of State, former Station Chief of Paramaribo, and whatever else the man had claimed to be over the years, revealed that to him.

"Calm down Commander, we didn't know anything for certain. All we had was terrorist chatter and what you and Sarah like to call 'scuttlebutt'. There was nothing solid that indicated anything was going to happen."

This was so typical of Clayton Webb and it really galled him that lizard called Mac by her first name. "And yet you neglected to tell the Admiral that this was a possibility." He pointed out to the CIA man.

"I warned him as soon as I had credible intelligence." Webb's tone was decidedly defensive.

Harm launched an assault against that comment like he was grilling a suspect witness. "Which was too late to foil the attack, right Clay?"

"I tried to tell him," The CIA man whined as a way of sounding like an excuse.

"I know, I know, as soon as you had something solid, spare me, Webb." Harm muttered sarcastically.

"Look, Harm, I'd love to play witness and lawyer with you, but right now it's imperative that you stop Colonel Livingston and Captain Lewis."

"I stop?" Harm's barked comment brought shocked looks from the other two people in the room.

The CIA Agent sighed heavily. "Look Harm, like it or not, you're still working for us. Find a way to stop them. DSD has given us the green light to do what we need to wrap this up."

The aviator/lawyer didn't like that tone one bit. "Since when did you become my boss?"

"Since DCI Watts put me in charge of the Mirbullah operation, Commander."

Harm swallowed, his mind racing. "Sheffield approved this?" Harm wondered just what kind of deal had Kershaw brokered with Sheffield so that the Naval Commander could rescue Mac.

Clay's voice took on a chilling tone. "The SecNav understands the terms of your agreement with the Deputy Director, Harm, Catherine made the rules very clear to him."

Now it was Mac's turn to be concerned. Harm had gone from jealous anger, to righteous indignation and now anguished shock seemed to engulf him. How could Clay claim to be his boss? Then it came to her like a dash of cold water as she remembered one of her many bedroom talks with Clay while trying to get Harm out of the CIA. He had let it slip that the agreement that Catherine Gale had drawn up…it was more like a contract, stipulated if the Agency was dealing with a situation that involved an immediate threat to the government it was authorized to 'reactivate' any 'retired' or 'paroled' agents it deemed necessary to complete an operation. Harm was a paroled agent.

"Mister Webb is his boss?" This was one of those rare times Gibbs let his confusion show through his investigator persona. Mac nodded dumbly.

"I'll need some time to formulate a plan," Harm said stalling.

That was when Gibbs spoke up.

"You already have one, Commander." Mac nodded her agreement.

Tony DiNozzo and Commander Coleman were walking past the row of semi-permanent buildings when they stopped at one with sign tacked to it that said simply 'best of the best'.

Tony gave Faith a wry smirk as he turned and knocked on the door. The Commander arched one of her eyebrow's quizzically before shaking her head and blowing out a frustrated breath.

"Who is it?" came back the gruff sleep-filled voice.

Tony put a stern look on his face and did his best brusque investigator. "Special Agent DiNozzo, NCIS and Comman-"

He didn't get to finish as Faith stepped in front of him.

"Commander Coleman, JAG Corps, Corporal Richards. Open this door."

They could hear someone stumbling around inside as it sounded like things were being knocked over and tossed aside.

Faith smiled at a surprised Tony. "Officers have a command presence." She said in tone the NCIS Agent could have sworn was glib. He started to open his mouth to say something in response, but then decided it wasn't worth it.

They both turned back as the door suddenly swung open reveal a hastily dressed Corporal Devin Richards.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, sir," he said quickly saluting, "I, uh, was asleep, I pulled a night patrol last night-"

Tony didn't let him finish. "Mind if we come in, Corporal?" Special Agent DiNozzo pushed past him, followed by the JAG Lieutenant Commander.

Richards verbally stumbled as his sleep-fogged mind tried to respond. "Uh, yes sir, uh, I mean, ah, no sir, come right in, sir, ma'am…."

"As you were Corporal," Faith motioned for the man to come away from the door. Tony had already pulled up a folding chair and made himself as comfortable as he could.

Reluctantly, Devin Richards pushed the door closed and turned to face the two.

Harm finished his conversation with Clayton Webb and by the end of it, the static had returned and obliterated the CIA Agent's voice.

As he closed the phone, a sharp knock sounded on Mac's door. The three looked at each other.

"Were you expecting company, Colonel?" Gibbs said.

"No," she replied as she headed for the door, "Maybe it's one of your men."

"Agent DiNozzo and Commander Coleman are interviewing witnesses," he responded.

"Maybe they found something," Harm was surprised to hear that his former defense attorney was here with the Major Case Response Team. It seemed that Sheffield and Kershaw weren't the only ones making deals.

Mac opened the door and stood back. "Colonel Livingston,"

Darcy who had been intent on talking to Mac, noted that Commander Rabb was here along with another man she hadn't wanted to see again anytime soon.

"Commander Rabb, Special Agent Gibbs, how nice to see you again," she said coolly.

Then she turned her attention back to the light Colonel. "Colonel, I need to speak with you privately."

"The Colonel is busy right now," Gibbs said as he eyed Darcy Livingston. He didn't like her the last time they met and he liked her even less now.

"Whatever you have to say, Colonel, you can say to all of us," Harm added crossing his arms and looking pointedly at the Force Recon CO.

Darcy nodded, quickly shifting gears. "You're right, Commander, forgive me," she said in a fake remorseful voice. "Mac, Secord named names; one of my own men is the real leader of the hit squad."

"Who Colonel?" Gibbs interjected.

Darcy somehow managed to look embarrassed. "The leader of my Force Recon detachment for the 36th , Captain Petkiewicz. How could I have been so stupid?" She walked over sat down hard on the edge of Mac's bed, her head in her hands.

Gibbs, Harm and Mac went over to her side. Darcy looked up at them. She had managed to squeeze a few more tears from her eyes. "That's who Secord was looking at; not me or Captain Lewis."

It was the perfect alibi, thought Mac, with Secord being the fall guy. Apparently, though no one in Darcy's Force Recon unit could be trusted, this Captain had somehow fallen out of favor and had become a sacrificial lamb.

Before the two JAGs could say anything to Darcy, Gibbs squatted down in front of her. "Don't blame yourself Colonel," he said gently, taking her hands in his, "Bad guys are good at telling lies."

Darcy gave the silver haired NCIS Agent a momentary puzzled look before nodding and giving him a fake watery smile. "Thank you, Special Agent Gibbs." Her voice was husky from her crying performance.

Harm gave the woman an equally tender look. "We'll take care of him, Colonel."

If it hadn't been a performance Mac would have felt a pang of jealously. Now the question was, could they trust Petkiewicz?

DiNozzo, Coleman and Richards sat in semi-circle in the poorly lighted room. Tony was busy tapping away with his stylus. The JAG Corps officer had produced a vinyl binder from her briefcase as well as evenly sharpened no. 2 pencil. She was busily scribbling away on her notepad that was clipped to the binder.

"Sorry about the lighting, ma'am, sir, we don't have much in the way of accommodations…."

Faith kept a stern look on her face despite the friendly tone of her words. Tony was intrigued. Just how did she do that? "That's quite all right Corporal; we certainly understand, don't we, Special Agent?"

"Uh, yeah, sure, we understand Corporal," he said quickly as he finished tapping on his PDA. "What can you tell us about Lieutenant Dodge's death?"

"Nothing to tell." He replied smugly then seeing Faith's immobile face, he hedged.

"Sorry ma'am, I meant to say it was all PFC Secord's doing."

"And it was the same with deaths of PFC Krivstad, Corporal Grearson, and Sergeant Colwell, Corporal?"

"Uh, yes ma'am…"

Tony whistled as wrote this information into his PDA."Wow, he was busy little guy."

"Yes sir, he was," Devin Richards nodded his head in agreement.

Tony smiled as he finished entering that information. "And I guess he killed Captains Jalloud and Butler as well,"

Richards looked bewildered for a moment. "Yes sir, er, I mean, no sir,"

Faith had stopped writing on her notepad. "What exactly do you mean, Corporal?"

"Sergeant Colwell killed Captain Butler ma'am, and Corporal Grearson killed Captain Jalloud."

Tony chuckled, "That's not what PFC Secord said, Richards."

Richards blanched. "It's not?"

"No Corporal," Faith replied smoothly, "PFC Secord confessed to killing Lieutenant Dodge, PFC Krivstad, Captain Jalloud, Captain Butler, Corporal Grearson, and Sergeant Colwell."

Tony shook his head. "You know, Commander, this reminds me of case I had back in Baltimore a few years back…."

Faith rolled her eyes. What she really wanted to do was scream. In past few hours she had heard several Baltimore 'true detective stories' courtesy of Anthony DiNozzo.

Tony was in high gear "…ya see there was this guy, well, he was more of girl really, but she talked and acted like a guy; anyway she claimed that she had killed over fifty people, can you believe that? Fifty!"

Devin Richards wasn't sure where this was going, so he decided to play along. He nodded dumbly. "Uh huh…."

"Well it turns out; she didn't commit all fifty, just twenty of them. She wanted to have bragging rights on the fifty, you know why?"

"No Tony," Faith said fighting the urge to clinch her teeth. "Why?"

"Because she didn't want her brother hogging all the credit, ya get it?"

Just when she thought Tony was the biggest pain in the world, he came up with a gem like this. Marines thought of themselves as like family, brothers and sisters. It was actually a very clever ploy.

"Actually, Tony, I do," Faith said with a thin smile.

Tony looked at Richard with that irrepressible grin still plastered on his face. "So do you get what I'm saying here, Corporal? Either PFC Secord is world's greatest killer, or someone is lying. So do you want to tell us who is doing the lying?"

Corporal Richards realized he had been tripped up.

1120 Local

Forward Operating Base Metz

Near Fire Base Puma, 36th MEU

"Cap'n," The force recon Sergeant stood, aiming his binoculars at the growing dust speck on the horizon. "We've got company…."

Force Recon leader Captain Mark Petkiewicz stood up as well.

"Let me see those, Sarge. I don't want to have to crawl back in our rabbit hole and retrieve mine."

"Aye sir," the Sergeant said handing his field glasses to his senior officer. "Can you see who it is?"

Petkiewicz focused on front windshield of the approaching HMMWV. He could see the occupants.

"It's Colonel Livingston and one of the JAG Corps officers who defended Lukens and Buell…." he said slowly.

"What do you think they want, sir?"

"We're about to find out," he said lowering the glasses.

Devin knew he had to think of something quick to throw them off this scent or he'd wind up dead.

"Look, I was mistaken…" he began.

"Which time?" Tony replied sarcastically, "When you told us Secord did all the killing or the previous time when he didn't?"

Richards shook his head in frustration. "Look man, you're confusing me, besides what gives you the right to come in here, questioning me about all this anyway?"

Faith cleared her throat. "According to SECNAV INST 5430.107: 'NCIS has primary investigative and counterintelligence jurisdiction with the Department of Navy', Corporal, that includes the Marine Corps, as you know. Also Presidential Executive Orders 12829, 12958, 12968 define NCISs' mission as safeguarding classified information, vetting personnel for trustworthiness, and protecting information within industry. You Corporal, fall under the 'vetting personnel for trustworthiness' statement in light of your recent comments."

Richards turned to a smiling Tony DiNozzo. "What is she, half-Vulcan, or something?"

"Captain Petkiewicz?"

Mark had seen this man before. He had accompanied the Colonel during an NCIS investigation some months ago.

"Yes sir?"

Harm moved over to the man. "Captain you are hereby relieved of duty. You are suspected of having committed murder and conspiracy to commit murder."

"Sir?" The Sergeant looked anxiously from his CO to the JAG Corps officers and NCIS Agent.

The Captain looked sympathetically at the man as NCIS Agent Gibbs turned him around. "As you were, Sergeant." He said quietly.

Gibbs continued reading the Captain his Article 31 rights as he snapped a pair of handcuffs on him. "You have the right to remain silent and make no statement. Any statement you do make could be used against you in a court martial. You have the right to consult with an attorney before making any statement…."

Darcy was smiling. "He almost got away with it, Colonel,"

"Got away with what?" Mac asked.

"He was planning on killing me and taking over the unit, with Secord's help. Isn't that right, Sergeant?"

The Sergeant nodded numbly, as if someone had punched him in the stomach.

Darcy turned back to Mac. "I was wrong about you, Cher. You are a good Marine. Look me up if you ever need a favor." She looked over at Harm and Gibbs talking to the Captain. "I'll send another Hum-vee out to pick all of you up. Right now I have to get back and reorganize my unit and see if anyone else was involved in this despicable act."

She turned to the recon Sergeant who still seemed to be in shock. "Sergeant, you're in charge until I return."

He quickly saluted her. "Aye ma'am."

Darcy returned the salute and then got back in the HMMWV which headed back in the direction of the BLT Headquarters.

The bewildered Sergeant turned to Mac. "Colonel?"

"Yes Sergeant?"

"The Captain's being framed, he's not guilty of anything, I'll testify to that."

"We know, Sergeant," Harm replied.

Gibbs began unlocking the Captain's handcuffs.

-TBC…


	52. Chapter 51

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 51

A/N1: Disclaimers and other vital information can be found in story archive for …FMS which can be found in the chapter story notes.

A/N2: **~~** indicates flashback or dream sequence ( ) indicates the thoughts of a person. *~* indicates a scene shift not otherwise indicated by a JAG time stamp.

A/N3: Thanks to my friend and beta Karen who is my sounding board and has helped me see this through. Kudoes to AeroGirl, Janlaw, Mkim, Soleil, and TZ, for providing their help and technical expertise. Also thanks to Lisa Griffon [Yahoo Shipper Group] for her continuing support.

Captain Patkiewicz turned around and faced Gibbs. "Then let me go and let me put an end to this."

Harm spoke up first. "We can't let you do that, Captain"

The Force Recon officer turned to face Harm. "Why not, Sir?" There was a hint of resentment in his question.

Mac was about to respond but Gibbs beat her to it. His answer was blunt. "Because you would be dead, Captain, before you got to her."

The Force Recon Captain seemed unfazed. "How do you know?" he practically snorted. What did a Navy cop and two legal eagles know about this situation anyway?

He quickly found out as Mac 'enlightened' him. "She found out you were on to her, Captain. However, if Colonel Livingston knew that you were planning to kill her, she'd have you eliminated just like all the others."

That rocked him a little. "You mean like Grearson and Colwell." He said somewhat petulantly.

Gibbs enlightened the man further. "No Captain, the Colonel means like Grearson Colwell, Dodge, Jalloud, Butler, and Krivstad. Let us handle this."

Harm nodded his agreement when the Captain looked at him. "In the meantime Captain, Harm added, "we're placing you in custody, for your own protection."

The Force Recon officer shook his head and chuckled harshly. "You three really think protective custody will save me if Darcy Livingston wants me dead?" Then you *really* don't know that lady."

That comment made Gibbs, Harm and Mac looked at each other and then at the Force Recon Captain and then back at each other again. Petkiewicz watched in amazement as a whole 'silent' conversation seemed to take place between the two JAGs.

Finally the two officers finished their 'conversation'. Gibbs smirked at both of them and then turned back to the Force Recon officer.

"I don't think you have anything to worry about, Captain." he said dryly.

1717 Zulu

Emerald Way Apartments Complex

Arlington, Virginia

Monday 14 July, 2003

Ahmad was in a hurry. He was fifteen minutes late for his appointment. He looked like any other DC bureaucrat or congressional aide…a man on a mission. Ahmad hurried over to his car in the parking lot and unlocked his car doors with keyless entry beeper.

In the carefully manicured shrubs just beyond Ahmad's car, an FBI counter-terrorism agent spoke softly into his headset.

"This is unit one, we have the suspect in sight. He's getting ready to get into his car…."

The gravelly voice of T.C. Fornell could be heard over the CT officer's headset.

"I copy unit one. Take him down, now!"

"FREEZE! FBI!"

"DOWN ON THE GROUND NOW!"

Ahmad was shocked to see the bushes come alive with FBI counter-terrorism agents dressed in combat gear, their assault rifles pointed at him. Part of him wanted to grab the handgun that was under his car seat, but he knew if he tried, he'd be dead before he opened the car door.

He knelt down on the asphalt with his hands raised in the air as the CT officers began to place handcuffs on his wrists and inspect his unlocked car.

Special Agent Charles watched the arrest of the terrorist suspect and hoped the man didn't have any links to Jimmy Napalitano. If he did, he'd have to make sure the man didn't live long enough to expose him.

Suhan had recently arrived from Jakarta on the redeye flight into Dulles. Now he was being briefed in the basement of this safe house by a man he only knew as 'Fazil'. His orders were simple. Take the briefcase he was being given to the Washington Metro and get off at Pentagon City. There, he would meet another man 'Raheem' to whom he would hand over the case.

Suhan thought he saw movement outside the basement window that was above their table. He only heard the tinkle of smashing glass before a loud bang and searing flash of light blinded him. In the smoke and confusion he saw Fazil reach for his assault rifle only see him begin to choke and cough as more smoke filled the room. Suhan felt his eyes begin to burn and water as well. As he doubled over he could hear the shouted orders about getting down on the floor from the heavily armed American FBI Agents dressed in camouflage and gas masks.

High above the Washington D.C. Beltway, a predator drone followed a panel van as it moved through lunchtime traffic.

Not too far away, an Air Force OV-1 Mohawk circled lazily over a nearby park.

The plane's co-pilot nodded to the enlisted technician manning the on-board tracking radar. "Angel Seven to Avenger Command, the suspect's vehicle is getting off I-395 at Leesburg Pike. Have the Virginia State Patrol move in and intercept them before they leave the interstate.

"Roger Angel Seven."

NCIS Special Agent Chris Pacci stood on one side of the door. On the other side was Special Agent Tim McGee. They were accompanied by a dozen Marine Fleet Anti-Terrorist soldiers.

Chris nodded to the Probie NCIS agent who grimly nodded back. Chris motioned to the two FAST soldiers holding a portable battering ram. They charged at the door, swinging the ram ahead of them.

The sound of the door's lock mechanism coming apart was lost as the door swung open to reveal four men of various nationalities looking stunned at seeing two plainclothes Naval 'police' officers accompanied by a squad of heavily armed soldiers bursting into their room.

"FEDERAL OFFICERS! DROP YOUR WEAPONS!"

AJ Chegwidden stood crouched behind the police cruiser next to the Falls Church police Lieutenant. In the next moment, several flash-bang grenades went off in quick succession around the nondescript bungalow that they had been observing for the last hour.

This was the last of some fifty safe houses that had been detailed in the data files that Mrs. Dodge had given to Tiner and Coates.

As smoke curled around the outside of the household, several heavily armed SWAT team members entered the house and in moments were leading several stunned men, handcuffed, out of the building and placing them face down onto the grass in front of the house.

The Lieutenant's radio crackled with static "Message for Admiral Chegwidden, Lieutenant."

"I believe this is for you, Admiral."

The Navy/Marine JAG nodded his thanks as he took the radio receiver in his hands. "This is Admiral Chegwidden…."

"Admiral, this is FBI Special Agent Tobias Fornell. Operation Lightning has been a complete success, do you copy?"

AJ nodded. "I copy, Special Agent Fornell. The Navy thanks you for your help."

1331 Local

Bethesda Naval Hospital

Bethesda, Maryland

Jason Tiner had succeeded in maneuvering himself into his wheelchair. He had only slipped once or twice trying to get himself seated but luckily he didn't end up splayed on the floor.

Now he was pushing himself toward the door, ignoring the shooting pain from his arm as he maneuvered the chair so that he could lever open the door.

He had practically begged his nurse to take him off his intravenous feed. After she consulted with the doctor on call, he finally convinced both of them it would do the Petty Officer some good to wheel himself down to the solarium.

Despite the pain from his protesting limbs, Jason began to propel himself down the hall with a single thought on his mind. Getting to see Jen.

He had to see for himself how she was doing. In fact he was so preoccupied with getting his wheelchair down the hall that he didn't notice the other chair headed straight for him.

The clang of the two colliding wheelchairs broke his concentration as did the wave of pain radiating up and down his leg from the contact with the other chair bound occupant.

"Oh my God! Jason! I am so sorry!"

Jason Tiner gritted his teeth against the white hot throbbing as he looked through his ache blurred vision to see Jennifer Coates sitting in her chair which was now entangled with his.

Seeing her made him momentarily forget his aching body.

"Jennifer? What are you doing out here?" he nearly yelped.

"I was coming to see you," she grunted as she struggled to pull away from their entanglement, "…to see how you were doing….where were you going?"

"I was coming to see you, to see how you were doing…."

"I'm ambulatory," she winced as she tried to sit up in her chair, "Well, at least I was…."

Now it was Jason's turn to be concerned. "Are you okay? Maybe I should call a nurse…." He tried moving closer to her to see if he could see any new injuries.

She put her hand on his shoulder to calm him down. "I'm fine Jason, really."

When she saw that she had gotten through to him, she couldn't stop the mischievous thought that slipped out of her mouth. "That is, as long as we don't collide again, I'll be all right."

She began to smile sheepishly as did Jason. Soon both began to chuckle at their predicament.

"Sorry-" he began.

"No," she replied quickly, "it was my fault; I was concentrating so hard on moving my wheelchair down the hall towards your room, that I forgot to look where I was going."

"I did the same thing," he admitted.

"You did?"

"Uh huh,"

"Why?"

"Well, I was determined to see you too."

That comment stole her breath. "You were?"

"Uh huh," He paused a moment, giving her a wry grin. "We're a pair aren't we?" Jason's grin faded as he felt her eyes boring into him. "I just had to, um, make sure…you were, uh, all right."

"Me too," she confessed. "That is, I needed to…you know, make sure…you were, um…all right too…." She gave him another embarrassed grin, not knowing what else to say.

As Jason sat there in his chair looking at her, he remembered this was how he had felt the first time he'd met Jennifer. That was in December of 2001 when Commander Rabb had her in his custody for shoplifting and stealing. He had only seen her briefly then, but that was more than enough to pique his curiosity and interest in her.

He'd vowed then that if he ever got the chance to talk to Jennifer Coates again, he would. Then in December of last year, the Colonel had brought her to her new duty station, JAG Corps Headquarters.

He spent most of that winter trying to get to know her better, but she seemed only vaguely interested. He though, was smitten and made a concerted effort to let her know just how he felt.

However, his natural born awkwardness with females insured the failure of his first attempts to connect with her. This time though, he didn't let that stop him. Risking conduct unbecoming charges for pestering her, he struck up a casual relationship with her that blossomed during Commander Rabb's court martial.

He remembered that she had looked so lost and forlorn when she told Jason that she had betrayed the Commander. Jason assured her that Harmon Rabb, junior would have never wanted her to lie for him, even if it kept him out of the brig. She had given him such a pretty smile then, just like now.

Despite Jennifer's injuries, her lack of makeup and limp hair, she had to be the prettiest woman in the hospital.

Jennifer for her part, couldn't believe that Jason looked this good even after all he had been through in the past few days. She thought back to when she first came to JAG Headquarters, how she had been a little leery about his star struck attention to her. She decided back then despite his good looks to keep their relationship professional. It seemed simple enough, at first. However, she realized one day when he had taken a couple of weeks of leave, just how much she missed his attention.

And she realized that although their work assignments pretty much kept them apart, when their paths did cross, there were *most definitely* sparks. Like now.

"So, uh, do you…how do you feel about going down to the solarium?"

Jason sounded like he was asking her on a date. (Could he really be that intimidated by me?) The more she thought about that, the more it made her nervous.

"That's good," she said nodding. "…I mean fine…that's fine…a good idea, I mean…." (God, I sound like a complete dork…). She thought chastising herself. She'd be lucky if he didn't think she was mimicking him.

But Jason Tiner was too enamored of her to believe that. "You go first," he recommended, "I'll follow you…we don't want to line up abreast down this hall."

She nodded again, not knowing what else to say. Besides, that made sense to her.

Gibbs, Harm, and Mac walked back towards the Lieutenant Colonel's quarters.

"We've learned that Colonel Livingston has eyes all over this camp," Harm said surreptitiously to the senior NCIS Agent as they walked along, "That's why we've been playing the roles you read about in Commander Lindsey's report."

Mac picked up on the story from there. "We had to convince the Colonel that we were maverick officers, someone she could possibly turn if she decided to."

"Someone high up in this unit had arranged for it to look like the Cobra gunship crew had killed Lieutenant Dodge, but in reality Colonel Livingston had ordered Dodge's death because he knew too much."

"We just didn't have anything more than circumstantial evidence to go on, so we were using the Lindsey report as bait to smoke out the real killers and the mastermind behind this operation."

"We got our clients off," Harm said finishing their story, "but we failed to get the Colonel because she sacrificed one of her underlings in the real killer's place."

Gibbs turned to the pretty Marine light Colonel.

"So now you're going to go rogue, Colonel?"

Mac nodded. "To get into her unit. The intel report we received from Special Agent Webb included information that al-Sahood's cell will launch a chemical or biological attack on this unit in 72 to 96 hours."

"72 to 96 hours, Colonel? Isn't that a little soon? When did you get this report?" Nobody could ever fault the NCIS Agent for keeping unrealistic timetables.

Harm and Mac exchanged embarrassed looks. How did they overlook the fact this timetable might have been altered by a certain CIA agent they both knew and loved?

"Um, Special Agent Webb has been known, ah, in the past to compress timetables for his benefit," Mac offered.

"I see," Gibbs said studying the two JAG Corps officers the way he would a pair of probationary agents.

"Looks Gibbs, we may not have the timetable down perfectly, but what we do know is that sometime within the next week or so -."

"We have to stop whatever she has planned," she looked at Gibbs intently, "and the only way to do that is from the inside."

Gibbs gave her a slight smile. "And to get on the inside, you have to show that you are loose woman who has a history of fraternization."

"You got it Gibbs. Which is why Hormone here won't let me out of his sight." Mac's facial expression made it clear she was going back into character again. "You see, the good Commander here is extremely jealous…won't let me out of his sight, isn't that right, Commander?"

Gibbs now saw the man in front of him who he had expected to arrest a short time ago. An extremely jealous lover. "I am *not following* you Colonel! We agreed to this meeting with Special Agent Gibbs because he suspected me of killing Krivstad."

"You're lucky I was in a generous mood and got you off the hook, Commander. I could have easily implicated you…."

"Implicated me? Why?"

Mac looked heavenward, sighing disgustedly. "God, do I have to spell it out for you?" She looked over at the naval Commander with what can only be described as a combination exasperation and disdain. "You're smothering me! I need some time away from you…."

Harm gave her a sarcastic smirk. "So you can go crawl into bed with someone else, Marine?"

Mac gave former Topgun a deadly look. "That was a low blow, Navy."

"No lower than the ones you've aimed at me lately, Marine," he fired back at her, as if trying to elicit sympathy from the NCIS Agent who was now in the middle of their maelstrom.

Gibbs couldn't believe the change in these two. One moment they were two perfectly normal JAG Corps officers, now they were the consummate argumentative fiery couple, perfectly mirroring the portrayals Commander Lindsey had used in his report to try and destroy Admiral Chegwidden's command.

Mac suddenly grabbed onto the senior NCIS Agent's arm urgently. "Special Agent Gibbs, would you please get me away from Commander Rabb? I think he's planning to hurt me…"

"Hurt you?" Harm said with a mixture of shock and revulsion, and then broke into a acerbic chuckle. "Oh, that is so rich…"

"Look Gibbs, get me away from him, and I'll make it worth your while," she purred into the agent's ear, letting the suggestive thought settle into his brain. She moved around to face Gibbs and began smoothing out his shirt and jacket, occasionally shooting Harmon Rabb a flirtatious look. "We Marines should stick together, you know, Semper Fi and all that…."

"Don't fall for her flattery Gibbs. She's just using you to get me jealous, she likes to do that. She'll quickly tire of you, just like she has all the others. And there are lots of others…." He started to move toward the couple as if to break them apart.

Gibbs voice came out perfectly calm but laced with steel. "Commander, if I were you, I'd get back…"

By now, several Marines and sailors had heard the commotion and were watching it unfold. Among them was a very interested Captain Jacques Lewis.

"Don't fall for her sweet talk, Gibbs." Harm warned.

"And I told you to back off, Commander." Gibbs said as he tightened his protective grip on the Lieutenant Colonel. Mac played damsel in distress for all it was worth, looking like a frightened doe.

"This isn't over Gibbs," Harm said menacingly then turned around and pushed his way through the crowd of gawking soldiers.

"C'mon, Marine," Gibbs said tersely as he began to push his way through the crowd with her in tow. He kept an eye on Captain Lewis to make sure the man kept his eyes on them, "Let's get you out of here."

Sturgis Turner was putting away his case notes. As he did this, he wondered whether or not he should have fought harder for the Cobra aircrew's conviction. (You did everything you could, and then some). That was true, even Admiral Chegwidden had praised his efforts and the outcome of the case. So why did it feel like a hollow victory?

His self-examination was put on hold as moved toward the knock he heard at his door.

He opened the door to see Bud Roberts standing there. The Lieutenant looked as if he wanted to salute but Sturgis knew that was just 'nervous Bud'. "Uh, Forgive me Commander, but, do you mind if I come in?"

"Sure Bud." He motioned the Lieutenant inside. "What brings you over here?" He offered the junior JAG Corps officer a seat.

Bud seemed distracted, "Uh, no thank you, sir." Sturgis could tell the younger man was looking over at the former Dolphin's briefcase and errant case notes that were sticking out.

"What can I do for you, Lieutenant?" Sturgis said, trying to get the Lieutenant to focus.

Bud Roberts looked somewhat hesitant. He took a deep breath and then slowly let it out. "Well sir, I was wondering if you would help me," he said finally.

That had obviously been very difficult for him to say. But why? Maybe it had to do with their past relationship before this case. He had really hoped they were beyond that, but Bud Roberts' hesitancy in speaking his mind indicated they weren't there just yet.

"Help you with what, Lieutenant?" he said in a friendly tone.

The former Dolphin could tell that Bud really didn't think he would be interested in this. "Help me find out who really killed Lieutenant Dodge, sir."

Sturgis sighed and shook his head. "Lieutenant, have you forgotten about PFC Secord's very public confession? I think that should lay to rest any doubts about who killed Lieutenant Dodge…."

Bud nodded. "And I'd agree with you sir, except…."

"Except?" Sturgis prompted.

"Except I think that while he may have had a hand in the Lieutenant's death, I don't think he pulled the trigger."

Inwardly, Sturgis was impressed. Bud in many ways was a very different person than the junior officer he had met when he first came to JAG. "Okay Lieutenant, who do you think killed Dodge?"

Bud was honest. "I don't know yet, sir, that's why I need your help."

Sturgis scrubbed his hand over his close cut hair as he stood up. "Did the Commander put you up to this, Bud?"

Bud's eyes flared in surprise. "Commander Rabb? No sir, I haven't seen him since yesterday…."

Sturgis sighed; he was already having second thoughts, "Okay Bud, what do you need me to do?"

To anyone else, Gibbs and Mac would have looked like a loving couple as they walked together, his arm over her shoulder, both sharing smiles and gentle laughter.

"So, you were really in Force Recon?"

Gibbs gave her a sideways look. "Yeah, who did you say you were you with, Colonel?"

"That's Mac, to you." She put her hand to his face. "Colonel makes me sound like a senior officer." she said flashing him a suggestive smile. "Now getting back to your question, I was with 2nd of the 9th back in the Summer of 1995. I was the legal liaison who was inserted into Bosnia with a Force Recon team to keep an eye on the Serbs…. You said you were there too?"

Gibbs gave her what she considered a shy smile and his tone definitely became warmer toward her. She could easily understand how a lady could fall for him. "Yeah, Summer of 1991 with the 1st of the 1st. I was the scout/sniper attached to our Force Recon unit…."

"Where did you say you were you stationed?"

A shadow seemed to pass over Gibbs' face. "I didn't," he said abruptly.

Mac realized she had gotten carried away with her role-playing. "I'm sorry Gibbs, I didn't mean to-"

"It's not your fault, Colonel," he said quickly trying to get back into his role, "You didn't know."

"I should have picked up on your reaction back in my quarters." She said honestly. "I really am…."

He quickly reached out and put his index finger to her lips. "Never apologize, Colonel-"

"-because it's a sign of weakness?" she finished for him. A playful look had returned to her pretty brown eyes.

Gibbs was intrigued. The more he got know this Colonel MacKenzie, the better he liked her. Too bad she already had a boyfriend. "Yeah, how do you know-"

Now it was her turn to put her index finger to his lips. "Harm and I have the same code. It must be a warrior thing." she finished with another sexy smile.

She nonchalantly looked over her shoulder and then whispered into Gibbs' ear. "We still have a tail following us," Then giggled like a schoolgirl to mask her report.

Gibbs chuckled and whispered back into her ear. "I know. Either he's not very good at this, or he's making sure you know he's on to you."

"I'd bank on him trying to spook me."

"Want me to do the 'me Tarzan' thing with him?"

"No, let's see if he keeps following us. We'll make our way back to Harm once Captain Lewis has seen all he wants to see…."

-TBC…


	53. Chapter 52

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 52

A/N1: Disclaimers and other vital information can be found in story archive for …FMS which can be found in the chapter story notes.

A/N2: **~~** indicates flashback or dream sequence ( ) indicates the thoughts of a person. *~* indicates a scene shift not otherwise indicated by a JAG time stamp.

Darcy was sitting at her desk talking with one of her subordinates when Jac came breezing in with a Cheshire-like smile on his face. On him it was positively Satanic looking.

Sergeant Charles Rathum was just finishing a verbal report to the Force Recon CO. "I tell you Colonel, they are a Major Case Response Team, ma'am. And that spells trouble."

Darcy didn't particularly like Rathum. He was slimy, even by her standards. She really thought the man wouldn't hesitate to turn on her if the opportunity presented itself. (Looks like you've outlived your usefulness, Charlie)

"I've dealt with Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs before, Sergeant, I believe I can handle him…" she said trying to control her anger towards this poor excuse for a force recon trooper.

The Sergeant was just smart enough to realize that he'd messed up. "Colonel, ma'am, I- I'm sorry, I – I didn't mean to imply-"

She cut off his babbling, that was something else she hated about him. His incessant babbling.

"Well you did. You need to be more careful Cher, a commanding officer could take your comments the wrong way. See them as insubordination..." she gave the man a baleful glare. "Or worse."

Rathum looked sick. "Aye, aye, Colonel." He said weakly.

"You're dismissed and close the door on your way out." She went back to looking at her laptop screen.

"Idiot," murmured Jac Lewis under his breath as the Sergeant passed him. If Rathum heard him, he didn't act as if he had.

When the door had closed, Darcy looked up at Jacques Lewis. "Make sure he has an accident as soon as possible, Cher. Something…unfortunate that elicits a lot of sympathy. And make sure he *dies* in this accident. Somewhere remote, so his body isn't found for while."

"Aye ma'am," Jac replied with a slight chuckle. He'd known that Rathum wasn't going to work out when she first recruited him. It was just a matter of time before he pissed her off bad enough. Besides, the Sergeant was a security risk and they couldn't have that now. He knew his commander too well. And because he knew her so well, he also knew she would love what he had just learned…

Darcy watched the unsettling smile on her Captain's face and knew there was more to this than just the anticipation of getting to eliminate another problem. "Okay, Cher, spill it. What do you have on the good Colonel MacKenzie?"

Jac's smile grew wider if that was possible. "Colonel, I do believe this is your lucky day…."

Mac looked to her left and right before she led the senior NCIS Agent across the dusty street to her quarters. Before they went inside, the light Colonel turned to her 'lover' and putting her hands on either side of his face gave him a deep kiss. She finished by playfully tapping the tip of his nose with her index finger.

Special Agent Gibbs was not about to be outdone by this Marine judge advocate. He grabbed her passionately and returned her kiss. As she melted into his arms, his kissing mouth managed a smile.

"What?" Mac said breathlessly. (Whoa, I hadn't expected that from him).

"Hubba, hubba," he said huskily in her ear as he stood her back upright.

"Um Gibbs…" Mac wasn't sure the silver haired NCIS Agent was role playing now. (Oh no, he didn't just-)

Gibbs understood her confusion. After all, in his opinion it was a pretty good kiss, but his ego aside, he wanted to assure her that it was still an act. "Just getting into my role, Colonel," Gibbs' smile was decidedly puckish. "We don't want your spies thinking you and I aren't on the level."

Mac couldn't help but give a very un-Marine like nervous giggle. Then she seemed to get hold of herself. "We'd better get inside." She said quickly.

Gibbs nodded and scanned the surrounding area in a manner that only a seasoned sniper could. "Yeah; we lost our tail."

Mac opened the door to her quarters and moved inside followed by the NCIS Special Agent. As the Marine stepped inside, she stopped, Gibbs just behind her.

There framed by the light streaming into the doorway was an unmoving Harmon Rabb, junior.

Because of all the role playing that had been going on up to now, Gibbs had no idea what was going to happen next. Maybe he had gone too far out there just now.

Mac quickly shut the door. As she did, Harm stuck out his hand. "Thanks for helping us, Gibbs."

The NCIS Agent knew that the Navy man had to have seen what they did outside. If there was ever a time Harm might have hit him, it would be now. But he didn't. They were all on the same side this time and the Commander was trying to bury the hatchet.

"Jethro," the Agent said as he shook the Navy man's hand. In his mind, he wasn't thinking about this event. His mind was more concerned about what Colonel Livingston was doing now and how did Colonel MacKenzie fit into this.

Harm on the other hand, smiled his first genuine smile since he and the NCIS Agent had met. Mac looked visibly relieved to see these former adversaries shaking hands.

"God, now they're friends," she said affecting the bored voice of her Lindsey inspired persona. "You two aren't going to kiss, are you?"

Both men turned toward her with serious looks on their faces. But the charade only lasted for a moment before all three began chuckling.

"We're ruining our images, you know." Harm tried to say with all the seriousness he could muster.

"Yeah, but I think we needed that," the light Colonel said as she began straightening her uniform and picked up her boonie hat. Gibbs and Harm exchanged silent looks of agreement with her statement.

She put on her hat and finished fiddling with her battle dress uniform. "I think Captain Lewis has had enough time to tell Darcy of the latest developments concerning me." She gave the tall Commander a sly look. "Now it's time I went and 'celebrated' our win, Harm, don't you think? I've been such a good girl up to now."

Harm looked at his watch. She was right as usual. Someday he'd get her to tell him about how that 'clock' of hers worked. He gave her a guarded look. "Do you need to check your wire?"

"Nope. Got it covered." She turned back to the door. As she started to turn the handle, she turned her head and gave the two men a slightly seductive look. "Later boys, I've got to go give my Oscar winning performance."

And with that Colonel MacKenzie opened the door and headed out toward the Officer's or 'O' Club.

When the door shut, the senior NCIS Agent turned the aviator/attorney. "Is she always like this?"

Harm was still looking distractedly at the door. "It's just part of the role she's playing right now…" (I hope).

Mac walked into the 'O' Club and did a quick inventory of her surroundings. It was your typical officer's club set up. There was a jukebox off to one side of the room along with a few of those video arcade games like the ones she used to play when she was growing up in Arizona.

On the other side of the room, there was a bar area which served juice, soft drinks and sandwiches. To her front was raised floor area- a dance floor, though no one in the room really seemed interested in it at the moment. A fine haze hung in the air, stirred up by the vehicles passing by outside. Everything was coated with a thin layer of powdery dust, but the patrons didn't seem to mind.

Mac made her way past the 'entertainment area' to the closed door. Taking a breath, she gathered herself and then opened it. She was immediately assaulted by oddly familiar smells.

The odor and heavy blue smoke of cigarettes and cigars permeated the air, as did another memorable fragrance. Alcohol. A few of the officers of the 36th looked up at her in shock and embarrassment, while others eyed her with less than pure thoughts on their minds. Most were too busy nursing their drinks. Mac ignored all of them and headed straight for the bar.

This was a strictly illegal establishment, but command looked the other way, for now. That didn't matter to Mac, at the moment. She had other pressing business.

The barkeeper gave her knowing smile. "Colonel,"

Mac grunted her reply. Her eyes were busy looking around at all the different colors and flavors of alcoholic drinks that lined the mirror behind the bar. She sighed wistfully, then turned her eyes to the barkeeper.

"Sergeant,"

"Your usual, ma'am?" he said as he reached for a small glass. She had been coming in regularly since they arrived. It had been part of her role to discover this 'hole' and then 'look the other way' in return for regular visits.

"Sure," she said listlessly, trying to get back into her role.

The Sergeant set a small drinking glass on the bar, dropped in three or four ice cubes and then poured in the tonic water. He twisted the lime, letting a dozen drops of the sweet tasting citrus settle to the bottom.

Mac nodded her thanks.

What everyone else present didn't know was that the Marine JAG and the Sergeant had agreed she wouldn't to send him to the brig for manning this illegal establishment in exchange for his cooperation in her operation. He was only too happy to comply. And the Ensign who had 'arranged' for this little establishment in the first place was also only too happy to help Gibbs and Harm to keep himself from being court martialed.

Mac took the drink and swallowed slowly, savoring the sweet taste. (Some vodka in it would make it taste better…) her little internal voice said sweetly. She hated that voice. (I'll go away if you just put some alcohol in that sissy drink) the voice offered.

The Sergeant could tell she was wrestling with an idea. He hoped she wouldn't follow through. He didn't want to come under Colonel Livingston's scrutiny.

He caught her hungry stare. She was not looking at him. She had her eyes fixed again on the bottles lined up along the mirror on the back of the bar.

"Ma'am?" he said cautiously.

"Sergeant, pour in a finger of vodka." She ordered.

He looked at her, trying to will the Colonel not to do this.

"Sergeant?" There was an edge to her voice. It was that hardness that came out in an officer's voice when a subordinate doesn't comply fast enough with an order.

The Sergeant quickly complied. "Yes ma'am."

He poured a finger's width of the clear liquid into the effervescent tonic water. To anyone observing, it looked as if he had just poured vodka into her drink.

Mac raised the glass to her lips and drank slowly and deeply. She looked impatiently at the barkeep. "Give me another."

This was repeated a half dozen times. With each drink, Mac began to act a little more tipsy.

"Won the battle lost the war…." she grunted to no one in particular. Everyone in the bar who was listening knew she was referring to the grounding of Lukens and Buell. Eventually someone would tell Colonel Livingston that Mac was drowning her sorrows, at least that was Mac hoped for.

"I knew I would find you here, Colonel," It was Harm. The disgust in his voice made her flinch momentarily.

"Ah my hero, my knight in shining armor arrives." She chuckled ruefully, "C'mon and join me Harm."

"You're still on duty Colonel," Harm's voice was tight, his eyes piercing the dimly lit bar.

Mac focused on the bottles. "And you're still stiff as a board, Commander. Loosen up."

"I do Colonel, when I'm off duty." He slapped his boonie hat down beside her glass as he sat down next to her.

She laughed sarcastically. "Well, I'm off duty, Commander. I'm taking an early dinner…."

He gave her his best incredulous stare. "This is your dinner?"

The Marine JAG smirked. "Fat free and zero carbohydrates, the perfect diet food, Stickboy." It didn't matter if it was the truth or not. She was supposed to be on her way to getting drunk and now she was supposed to be getting angry with Harm for bothering her.

Harm's blue-green eyes filled with hurt. "Mac, I can't let you do this…." He said softly.

It hurt her to do this, but for the sake of their ruse, she had to. "And I won't let you preach to me Commander, now go off and find a blond bimbo in distress…." She half snorted half chuckled at her own joke.

The hurt dissolved from Naval officer's eyes and his voice came out cold and hard. "Colonel, I want you to put down that drink…right now."

Mac glared at him for a moment before picking up the glass and draining it. She set it down with a bang, licking her lips and wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her shirt in a challenge to him.

"Now *that* was refreshing." she said as a small burp escaped her lips. A drunk's giggle escaped from her at that indiscretion.

His eyes narrowed. "You're on report, Colonel"

She snorted. "And you're self-centered egotistical sonovabitch," she bit off the last word, glowering at him. But looking down below his waist she broke into a lecherous grin. "But you've got a helluva of a six so I'm gonna let ya off easy."

Harm noticed she had started to slur her words, reinforcing the idea she was a cheap drunk. It was time for him to ratchet up the tension in this room another notch.

"I mean it, Colonel; I'm charging you with conduct unbecoming."

"You're charging me?" She got up from the chair and moved toward him, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "You'd better be playing Fly…boy." She emphasized the last part of her name for him with dead calm. The look in her eyes was now murderous.

Harm swallowed and took a step back. Everyone in the bar could see the fear in his eyes.

"This isn't over, Marine," he shot back with equal venom. "You'd better find yourself some legal counsel." He turned and left.

Mac sat down hard on her stool, "Damn him." She looked at the Sergeant. "Gimme 'nother…." She slurred.

"Ma'am-" he began.

But drunk Mac would have none of it. "Either you gimme 'nother, or so help me I will reach 'cross tha' bar an' use your broken fingers ta fix my next drink. Got it?"

The Sergeant quickly poured her another drink.

"Well, Colonel that was some display,"

"Who th' hell are you?" Mac growled.

"Lieutenant Colonel Darcy Livingston, Cher, remember? Force Recon, Mac. Mind if I join you?"

-TBC…


	54. Chapter 53

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 53

A/N1: Disclaimers and other vital information can be found in story archive for …FMS which can be found at Ashley the Marine Advocate's website:

and is being posted on JAG Haven on Voy.

A/N2: **~~** indicates flashback or dream sequence ( ) indicates the thoughts of a person. *~* indicates a scene shift not otherwise indicated by a JAG time stamp.

A/N3: Thanks to Mary Ann for 'guest-beta' this time around. And a big thanks to Janlaw and Karen for their past betaing - okay, on with the story...

1850 Zulu

36th MEU Officers Club

Camp Chesty Puller

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Monday, 14 July 2003

Mac momentarily paused as if considering her options. She had to make this look good.

The 'soused' Marine attorney swung around a little unsteadily and made a grand sweeping gesture with her free hand. "Yep, sure, why not? Tit's free cuntry, well mosly free annywhay," she said in an overly jolly manner to build up her bad joke, "Grab ya a seat, Colonel."

Colonel Livingston gave her a grin that Mac thought the woman reserved for pets that amused her. "Thanks Cher , don't mind if I do." Darcy settled down gracefully next to her.

"Boilermaker." She told the Sergeant.

The Sergeant put her drink on the bar next to Mac's.

Darcy turned to Mac, "To opportune moments," The Force Recon officer said raising her glass. Mac raised hers and they clinked glasses.

"Yep, wa'tever ya sed," Mac garbled through a burp.

That elicited another paternal smile from Colonel Livingston. She took a short pull on her drink then gave Marine JAG a serious look.

"I've read your package Colonel. Interesting reading."

'Interesting reading' the euphemistic phrase she had often heard officers use when reporting what they had found in her partner's file.

She snorted and shook her head for effect, indicating she was not flattered by the Colonel's kind revelation.

(Yeah,) she thought, (Harm and I are alike in so many ways….)

"If I recall correctly, you came into military service during your undergrad work in political science at the University of Minnesota …."

(So the game begins,) thought Mac as her senses went on high alert.

Mac gave her a sly grin and wink. "Yup, naval rotcee…land of ten 'housand lakes…and lake s'perior."

Darcy's face took on a cold clinical look. "Taking that option is pretty impressive for a girl coming from a broken home and engaging in petty theft crime spree before she was nineteen."

Mac nursed what was left of her drink. "Th' Marines didn' judge me based ohn my past." she bit off somewhat sullenly. It was supposed to be part of the act, but her defensiveness about her past was real.

"Of course Hon," Darcy said soothingly "I know that. You did very well. I mean, you went from Platoon Leaders' Class to OCS during your summers in undergraduate school. Very impressive indeed."

The Marine light Colonel tried not to let Darcy Livingston's patronizing tone get to her. "Damn straight."

"And you're such a good lawyer, Cher. So why didn't you go into law right away?"

"My uncle…wanted ta follow in 'is footsteps…."

That was true; Mac, given a second chance at life through the actions of her uncle, had wanted to emulate the person she considered her mentor. So she went into logistics and ended up in Okinawa working on Lieutenant Colonel Farrow's logistical staff. They supervised and coordinated supplies headed to Saudi Arabia for Operation Desert Shield and later, Operation Desert Storm.

"That's very admirable indeed, hon," Despite the patronizing tone being used, Mac felt like she trying to be nice…maybe this was just the way she talked to everyone….

"But it was your interest in forensic science and criminal pathology that lead Colonel Farrow to see you couldn't be in logistics for the rest of your life…."

"Yeh, probbly so…." Mac was unsure where this conversation was going. Would Colonel Livingston bring up her affair with Colonel Farrow? And what about the subsequent investigation that she skirted because she was on her way stateside by the time it began? The Marine JAG braced for this next set of accusations.

"He admired your courage and determination. At great personal risk, he sponsored you going to law school. And your grades at Duke were impressive, in spite or maybe because of, what your major professor thought about you…"

Mac smiled at the memory of her major professor and nemesis, Juanita Ressler, who had once told her she would make a better lap dancer than lawyer.

"Yep, 'show'd her." The light Colonel said with grim humor.

"So you get through Duke, and things begin to heat up in the Balkans. After Naval Justice School, they send you into Bosnia to help with war crime investigations. Your personal interest in paleontology gave you good tracking and forensic skills - just what they needed—and you were a lawyer to boot. That's quite a package."

Mac realized she needed to be careful. This is what was so dangerous about Darcy; she buttered people up before 'skewering' them with their personal secrets. Secrets that would force them into working for her.

"Dat wuz awhile back," Mac said dismissively trying to regain the upper hand.

"Oh but Colonel, you underestimate yourself. Your mastery of hurdles and high jumping from your high school days combined with a natural affinity to learn languages made you very valuable to the Corps. DIA Intelligence attached you to 2nd of the 9th's Force Recon…."

Colonel MacKenzie tried to remain nonplussed. "That was a long time ago," she said momentarily losing her slur. Mac hurriedly took another swallow from her drink, not looking at the woman.

If Darcy noticed, she didn't indicate that she did. The Force Recon officer seemed to be intent on flattering her new 'friend'. "But you did some good work, Cher . Especially when you brought down that Serbian war criminal, Paclov, in Tinova…."

Mac remembered impersonating a Serbian farmer's wife and then a Muslim refugee in order to get closer to that despot. There were some close calls, but in the end, they got him. "I guess it wuzn't dat har'd," she said aloud on purpose while taking another drink from her glass.

"Exactly; you and Sergeant Clemons did some very valuable work…."

Mac had had it with Colonel's gooey praise. "Look, Ah 'preciate all th' sunshine you're blowin' mah whay, but why don' ya tell me th' real reason you're here…."

Darcy's fake smile slid away replaced by a cold dispassionate look. "You are very perceptive woman, Sarah."

The Marine JAG gave her a drunken wink. "Ah, jush like ta git ta th' point."

Darcy nodded her head sagely, almost as if she was glad this part of the charade was over with. "Okay Sarah, I'll level with you. We need help, specifically, we need *your* help."

Mac put down her drink and gave a happy drunk's smile. "Oh okey dokie. Whut's th' probelum?"

"Look Colonel, I'll level with you, we need help knocking out Al Sahood's terror cell."

"Oh-khay, yu've got muh 'tention…" She took another sip from her drink.

"You help us take out al-Sahood and I'll make sure you get your Eagles."

Mac who had been smirking at her 'honey and milk talk' stopped mid-swallow and looked at her. She slowly put her glass back down on the bar, her eyes wide in disbelief.

"Yu're…ah, you promisin' me a promotion!"

Darcy's eyes were glittering. She focused her attention completely on Mac like a snake trying to put a mouse into a trance. "There's a war on, Mac. The Marines need smart soldiers who can lead with your kind of skills. You'll be able to write your own ticket, Cher ."

Mac drained her glass and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She looked over at Livingston who was now smiling broadly at her.

"What'dya say MacKenzie, do we have a deal?"

Mac took her proffered hand. "Deal." They shook on it.

Harm was outside the building with his tiny listening device. He had caught it all on tape. To the others it looked like he was talking on a cell phone headset – in reality, he was capturing Colonel Livingston making the offer. (Way to go Devil Dog….)

2119 Zulu

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

AJ still wasn't comfortable with the vinegar odor of the newly installed drywall nor the mind numbing and cloying starkness of fresh paint that seemed to permeate every corner of JAG Ops.

He was trying to get himself back into the routine of doing the day to day work. Signing off on accident investigations, assigning JAGMan teams, approving docket changes, and so forth, but his mind couldn't erase the horrifying images of just a few days ago.

Truth be told, the former SEAL was also worried about Rabb's team. This Colonel Livingston was an unknown, in terms of a threat. AJ Chegwidden did not like unknowns. But he had a remedy for that.

The Admiral had turned in his overstuffed chair to look out his window for a moment when his intercom buzzed.

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Sir, Gunny Galindez is here."

"Send him in, Lieutenant."

"Aye sir."

The door opened and Gunny strode in, closing the door behind him. He came to attention in front of the admiral's desk. AJ was still looking out the window. In his mind's eye, the Admiral could still see the burning cars in the parking lot….

"Sir?"

The Admiral, still wearing his reading glasses, turned and gave JAG's former administrative supervisor a fatherly smile and motioned to one of the chairs arranged around the desk.

"Have a seat, Gunny."

Victor Galindez was not used to the Admiral acting this way. Usually the man was all business. The only other time he had been so friendly with the senior NCO was when he had requested a change in designator back in 2001 so he could join a combat unit.

The two men sat quietly for a moment. AJ picked up a padded envelope. "I wanted to thank you again for your help, Gunny."

Victor was still haunted by what he thought had been sloppy performance during the attack. He kept turning his actions over and over in his mind. Examining and re-examining all the options. If he had only been a little faster, more observant…something.

The former sheriff's deputy looked down at his hands. "Sir, I did the best that I could, but it wasn't good enough to-"

AJ cut off the man's self-recriminations. "Victor, you helped defend my command. I couldn't have asked for more. You saved countless lives that day."

"But not everyone Sir,"

The Admiral nodded silently. He knew what the Gunnery Sergeant meant. He didn't want to be Superman. He had just wanted to save his friends from injury and death. It's the wish of every survivor. It was also an emotion AJ knew well.

"No you didn't, but you did a hell of job, Gunny."

AJ got up from his chair and still holding onto the envelope, sat down in the chair next to the Gunnery Sergeant.

He sighed as he took off his glasses and laid them on top of it. "Son, you did all you could and more. We both knew this was bound to happen. We've been in combat."

Victor grimaced. He knew what the Navy/Marine JAG was telling him was true. It didn't make him like it any better. Nor did it make the pain go away. "I know, Sir, but, no disrespect meant Admiral…things like this are not supposed to happen here. These people…for the most part…are non-combatants…lawyers, legal clerks, paralegals…."

"I know Gunny. We weren't ready. And I blame myself for that."

"Admiral, you can't-"

The hell I can't, Gunnery Sergeant." AJ said, sharply cutting off Victor's explanation even before he had a chance to start it. The former SEAL shook his head.

"It's my command and ultimately any failures in that command are *my responsibility*." He gave the Gunnery Sergeant a wry look and uncharacteristically worried chuckle. "Hell, I expect the SecNav and CNO to roast me over an open spit soon."

Victor Galindez could not believe they would do this Admiral Chegwidden. "You can't let them do that to you, Sir," he said forcefully.

AJ gave a soft snort of disgust. "What happens to me isn't *my decision*, Gunny." Then his mood turned thoughtful again. "But I do need a favor from you, if I may."

He would do just about anything for the Naval/Marine Judge Advocate General. "Just name it, Sir."

"Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie are involved in an undercover operation in Colonel Livingston's Force Recon unit. They've got NCIS Special Agent Gibbs' Major Case Response Team as backup, but I want a cleanup batter out there as well. To even the odds."

Gunny nodded. "I understand, Admiral." He was itching for revenge, but Victor wouldn't go in half-crazed, swinging blindly. No, Gunnery Sergeant Victor Galindez was slow and methodical in his process to find the enemy. And when he did strike, he wanted them to be sure they knew who was hitting them.

"I have two weeks' leave on the books with my, um, current employer, Admiral. I can leave from Andrews on the next flight to Baghdad."

AJ nodded grimly. "Good. I was hoping you would say that,"

He handed the man the sealed padded envelope. "Here's your orders. I recommended your, uh, 'reassignment' to 2nd Force Recon with your 'current employer's' blessing. Colonel Livingston's company Gunnery Sergeant went missing last week, so they asked for a replacement."

Victor gave the Admiral a sardonic smirk as he took the envelope. "I'll do my best to live down to her standards, Sir."

AJ tried to stifle it, but a harsh chuckle escaped from his lips. "I knew you would, Gunny. Colonel MacKenzie has been made acting legal liaison for Colonel Livingston's unit. Rabb's been assigned to MEU's SJAG team as an advisor for the upcoming military operations to be undertaken by the Force Recon unit."

"What about Commander Turner and Lieutenant Roberts, sir?"

AJ stood up and Gunny followed suit. "They are working with Special Agent Gibbs' team."

"I'll give them a wide birth and stick to Colonel MacKenzie like glue, Admiral."

"That's the plan, Gunny," he stuck out his hand "Good luck, son."

They shared a warm handshake. "Thank you, sir."

1816 Local

NCIS Morgue

Washington Navy Yard

Anacostia, Maryland

Medical Examiner Teresa Coulter held up her ID so that guard at the Naval Yard Guardhouse could see it clearly. As the man examined her ID, a team of combat engineers were finishing their inspection of the ambulance she was in. As they finished, they gave the guard a thumbs-up sign.

The guard, a very young Corporal in full combat gear, nodded. "Okay, Commander, the morgue is over that way," He motioned with his head while keeping his rifle within easy reach.

"You can drive down into the underground garage and deliver your package to Dr. Mallard there, ma'am."

Thank you, Corporal," Teresa said as she took her ID back. She turned to her orderly/driver. "Let's go."

The ambulance truck slowly pulled away from guardhouse and headed toward the underground garage entrance.

As they pulled up the morgue entrance they were met by two men in surgical scrubs. One younger African-American and the other, an older man wearing steel rimmed glasses.

A team of orderlies opened the back door of the soft top HMMWV ambulance and pulled out the shroud covered gurney. Teresa got out of her side of the truck and made her way back to towards the team and who she thought were two supervising medical examiners.

The older man lifted his head as she came closer. "Ah my dear, you must be Commander Coulter. Gibbs told me to expect you." He held out his hand.

"And you must be Doctor Mallard," Teresa said smiling pleasantly as she lifted hers to shake his hand.

Doctor Donald Mallard smiled gallantly. "Ducky, please, my dear." He took gentle hold of her hand and gave it a kiss. "Delighted to meet you."

Teresa caught her surprised laugh before it could escape. She was stunned and flattered by his manners. "All right…Ducky it is."

Gerald fought hard not to roll his eyes. This seemed to happen every time Dr. Mallard met a pretty woman. He plugged in his MP3 and inserted the ear pieces. The music would keep him from hearing the playful banter he had heard many times before. He motioned to the orderlies to push the gurney into autopsy.

As Ducky and Teresa entered the room, the orderlies had placed Paul Colwell's naked body on the autopsy table and left the room.

Dr. Mallard walked over to Colwell and began examining his face. "Did we get to him in time, Commander?" he said as his continued his preliminary examination.

"We almost didn't," Teresa said, quickly picking up on his train of thought. "The graves registration folks started to put up a fight until I showed them my orders."

"Don't judge them too harshly, my dear, they were just doing their job," he looked down and gave the dead man a gentle smile. "Isn't that right, Sergeant?"

Teresa had heard that Doctor Mallard talked with his 'patients' as he called them. Though maybe a tad eccentric, he was the best forensic medical specialist employed currently by the military, so this 'trait' was overlooked.

He looked up at the forensic pathologist. You know, Commander, the Marines have a very special routine they go through for anyone killed in combat. Very elaborate."

Teresa nodded. "I know, I served a tour in Afghanistan last spring."

Donald Mallard looked up her and gave her a friendly, understanding smile. "I see. Well, let's not keep the good Sergeant waiting. Shall we get started?"

As Ducky started to select a scalpel to make the initial incision, Abby Sciuto walked into the morgue.

Teresa raised her head and took in the sight of the Goth girl wearing a lab coat that was entering the room. "Doctor Mallard, I think one of your technicians needs you…"

Donald 'Ducky' Mallard, M.E. raised his head squinted, his face showing his confusion and momentary irritation at being interrupted before he saw who it was.

"What? Ah Abigail, good to see you. Have you met our guest this evening?"

Abby was all smiles. "Hey Ducky, You mean the guy on the table?" Then she stopped when she saw the woman in Navy Commander's summer uniform. "Oh, sorry, I didn't see you-"

Ducky chuckled and shook his head. "Ah, where are my manners this evening? Abby, this is Commander Teresa Coulter; she's a Forensic Pathologist for the Navy."

Abby stuck out her hand. "Nice to meet ya Commander," Before Teresa could say anything or shake her hand, Abby looked down at the body on the table with a devilish smile. "ooo Ducky! Are you going to be working on this guy?"

Ducky smiled at the Goth girl's bluntness. "If by working, you mean doing an autopsy, then yes Abby, we are."

Abby put hands together like a begging youngster. "Can I help…pleeease Ducky? I promise, I'll do everything you say…."

Ducky raised his hands in supplication. "All right, Abby, all right. You may help-"

The head NCIS lab technician did something very close to a victory jig, before she grabbed Ducky in a bear hug. Teresa was a little taken aback by the Goth girl's overt display of affection and enthusiasm. "Yay! Thanks Ducky!" She grabbed a scalpel off the table and took a deep breath while closing her eyes.

When she opened them her voice was very business-like and serious. "All right, what do I do first?"

0505 Local

Camp Chest Puller

Batchelor/Visitor Officer Quarters

Harm made a beeline straight for the shower stall. Despite the fact that he and Mac had consummated their relationship a few days ago, thoughts of her were eating him alive. One would think the sexual tension and anticipation would lessen some now that they had become more familiar with each other. But that was not the case, in fact; if possible, the tension was now even worse.

And those feelings were only aggravated by the fact that they had to stay apart. Mac was now playing the part of fallen woman who had been lured to the dark side. It wouldn't make sense for Harm to come around after their infamous 'blowup' in the bar.

But he longed to feel her body against his, touch her supple skin, listen to the rhythm of her breathing…damn! He had to stop thinking like this or he was going to drive himself nuts!

Harm strode into the shower stall and turned the water on full blast. It was an icy cold blast at first that slowly turned tepid. The Commander knew he didn't have long before they would cut the water off whether he had washed off the soap or not, so he had to hurry. His mind, though, was still focused on that sexy Marine partner of his. Dammit, why couldn't he get her off his mind?

About that time, his brain told him something was odd about the way his clothes felt—his clothes! Harm looked down and sure enough, he was standing in his desert fatigues and boots, in the shower, tepid water cascading off him.

(Hammer, you're an idiot…) he grumbled to himself.

He was about to finish rinsing the rest of the soap off when he felt a presence. He turned and saw Mac staring goggle eyed at him. The shock of seeing her standing there sent him skidding into the shower wall.

"Geez Mac," Harm almost yelped as he caught his breath, "don't you even knock before checking in on me?"

Mac gave him her best saucy smile. It was still early and probably very few of Darcy's 'eyes' were out at this hour. So she decided to take advantage of that fact and try to find the Commander. She did.

"I did knock, Sailor, but you must've been off somewhere in the ozone. Speaking of which, Harm, do you always take showers fully clothed?"

She looked him up and down, six foot plus of wet Commander wasn't a bad way to start the day, though the clothes did make him look more comical than sexy.

Harm was in full damage control mode. "Uh, it was…I was hot, and, I was, um, trying to cool off."

Mac's smile grew wider. "And I guess the soap was supposed to help with the, uh, cooling off?" she said playfully.

Harm knew she was playing with him, but he stuck to his story. "Absolutely, soap helps because-"

"Harmon Rabb, that is the weakest defense I have ever heard," she giggled at his straitlaced-ness. He could be so cute at times.

"That soap is sometimes hard to get off of clothes, Harm, maybe I ought to join you and help get it off …." she started unbuttoning her blouse and moving into the shower. She loved teasing him like this.

Harm backed further into the stall. "No, Mac, no…I'm just a little overheated, that's all…."

An uncomfortable silence fell between them.

He sensed he had hurt her feelings. "Uh, Mac…."

Mac's eyes were riveted on the floor. "No Harm, you're right," she sighed, "this probably wouldn't make things better…."

He wasn't going to stand for another one of their 'wrong time, wrong place' scenes. Not after everything they had been through.

"C'mere Marine," he said huskily as he snagged her arm and pulled her into the still running shower.

"Harm! What? No! Umf-"

Mac's protests were squelched by a passionate kiss, an open-mouthed kiss as he embraced her. Mac whimpered as she grabbed at him and returned the kiss. Then they pulled away and stared hungrily at one another.

"Uh, would this be awkward moment number 398?" Harm managed to quip as he wiped the water off his slicked down hair.

"Um yeah," Mac said biting her lower lip. Then she smiled shyly, "I guess I'd better let you finish taking your cold shower, because now I need one."

She managed to rub her water soaked clothed body on him as she got out of the shower and headed down the hall to the female shower area.

Harm turned around and thunked his head on the shower wall. It was going to be a long day.

2159 Local

Dominion Hospital

Near Fairfax, Virginia

Even though the lights were off in her room, Marla was having little luck trying to sleep. Her cast was itching again and she had to fight the urge to dig fingernails under the plaster cast and scratch.

Although it would probably feel good temporarily, she might injure her leg which would necessitate an even longer stay. And Admiral Chegwidden would probably not appreciate that.

"Well, there's always counting sheep…." she said wryly to herself.

As Sergeant Givers turned over on her left side, she noticed the door opening.

Carly Clemons quietly stepped inside the darkened room and closed the door. She stood there for a moment, silently observing the quiet form of the Sergeant. Then she turned to leave.

"Major?" Carly stiffened for an instant, like a robber caught in the act. She slowly turned around.

The voice was low and thick. "I thought you were asleep, Sergeant." She cleared her throat. Marla strained to see her eyes, but could not tell in this gloom whether she had been crying. Maybe she just had a frog in her throat.

"Not tonight, ma'am." She said quietly. "My leg's been bothering me…."

Carly came closer to the bed. "What's the problem, Givers? Should I call a nurse?"

Marla noted though she really couldn't see her face, she could clearly hear the concern in her voice.

No ma'am, it's nothing like that," the Sergeant said hurriedly, not wanting to appear weak in front of an officer. "My leg just itches a little." The moment she let that slip out, she regretted it. She waited for the inevitable reproach.

"A little…." Carly repeated skeptically.

"Okay, a lot…." Marla admitted. She was surprised that the Major really did seem concerned about her welfare. Why did she?

"Where's your comb?" The Major asked.

"Right here in my night stand." Carly opened the drawer and after a few moments produced her comb.

"Okay Sergeant, you have to hold absolutely still while I do this. I don't want you injured any worse than you already are, read me?" Her words sounded gruff, but her tone was like that of a concerned mother.

"Aye, aye ma'am."

Carly slid the comb into the area between the top of her foot and her cast. She began to briskly rub it back and forth inside the cast.

"How does that feel?" The Major asked cautiously.

Feeling that infernal itching replaced by the brisk rubbing motion was heaven. Marla sighed audibly. "Thank you ma'am, it feels wonderful."

"I knew I would. I had the same kind of cast when I broke my leg in two places during Operation Desert Storm." She looked intently at the Sergeant. "Would you like me to do the underside of your foot?" Carly asked gently.

"Yes ma'am, please, if you would, I'd be grateful."

Sergeant Givers saw Carly smile a happy smile for the first time that she could remember. The Major quickly pulled the comb out and inserted it between the sole of her foot and the cast and began briskly rubbing again, earning another satisfied sigh from Marla Givers.

"Thank you ma'am." Marla said earnestly.

Carly Clemons smiled again as she put the comb back in the drawer. "Don't let the nurses know I did this, they'll have a hissy fit."

"Yes ma'am," replied Marla gratefully as she repressed a snicker. It was like two girlfriends sharing a secret. She watched as the Major turned to leave. "Uh, Major?"

Carly turned back to face her. "Yes Sergeant?"

"Why did you come, I mean, tonight? Not meaning any disrespect ma'am , I'm grateful for you taking care of my itching, but I thought you didn't think much of me."

Carly Clemons stood quietly for a few moments. In silhouette, she looked like the perfect Marine officer in her uniform and service cap, but Marla heard the tear filled gasp that escaped from her.

"Sergeant," Carly said, her voice husky with emotion again like it had been when she first came in the room. "Don't ever let anyone make you think I don't care about the people under my command."

Marla just laid there silently looking at her.

Carly's shoulders hunched and the Sergeant could tell she was crying as well.

"When you were shot and fell down those stairs…all I could think was it was my fault. I should have been out front, not you. It was my own fear that kept me from leading from the front. Instead, like the coward I was, I let you take the point when I knew better. I knew that terrorist was in there. I've been in operations like this before and I let my fear get the better of me and in doing so, I almost got you killed."

"But you didn't ma'am." said Marla reaching up her hand to Carly's face. It was wet with tears. Sergeant Givers was shocked that Major Clemons was so concerned about her and remorseful?

"Ma'am, I'm a United States Marine. I didn't question you then and I don't blame you now. You told me to take point and I did. I got shot because of my own carelessness. Ma'am, if it hadn't been for you, I'd be dead right now."

"Don't try and sugarcoat it Givers," she said huskily her voice thick with tears. "I screwed up and almost got you killed. But I can make up for that." She unpinned her rank pins from her uniform and laid them on the table beside the stunned Sergeant.

"I'm unfit to wear these gold oak leaves."

Before Marla could say anything else, Carly slipped out the door and was gone.

A/N4: For those of you who are hardcore NCIS or CSI fans – note – I am not a medical person in anyway, shape or form. I based Abby's scene straight from an NCIS episode in which Ducky mentioned that Abby had helped in an autopsy before. So if I have screwed this up, I sincerely apologize. Call it writer's license in the JAG/NCIS world.

2209 Local

NCIS Morgue

"How am I doing, Ducky, uh, I mean, how am I doing, Doctor Mallard?" Abby said in a serious tone. It sounded so unlike her that the NCIS Medical Examiner was momentarily taken aback.

"Uh, well, excellent, my dear, excellent. And Ducky is just fine, Abigail. Now make an incision about here, no more than a quarter of an inch…."

Abby had a big smile plastered on her impish face as she carefully tried to follow Ducky's instructions.

Teresa had to admit Abby Sciuto was doing a first rate job. She made a mental note not to let first impressions fool her so easily. That kind of wrong thinking had led her to believe her father had killed her mother, when it actually turned out [as Harm had proved in the courtroom] that her mother had died accidentally.

Despite her visible tattoos, Goth make-up and clothes, Abby had all the makings of the first rate medical examiner. Teresa also made an additional note to call Harm as soon as possible and let him know what they had found so far.

"Very good Abby,"

"Thanks Ducky, I mean, thank you Doctor Mallard." Abby continued her serious voice.

Ducky smiled and looked over at Teresa. "So what do you think, Commander Coulter?"

Teresa forced her mind into gear. "Well, the striations on the bullet that Abby found match your theory about what really happened to Sergeant Colwell. He wasn't shot in a struggle; he was shot and killed at close range while facing the sniper. It's as if Colwell were engaged in a conversation with the shooter."

"Exactly my thoughts, my dear," Ducky said nodding, "Exactly. Ah Gerald, there you are."

Dr. Mallard's lead orderly came into the room. "About finished with him, Doctor Mallard-" Gerald came to a dead stop when he saw her bloodstained smock. His mouth fell open in shock. "Abby! What are you doing here? What are you doing?"

Abby look at Gerald with mock haughtiness, "*We* are performing an autopsy, Gerald." She intoned.

Gerald threw her a sarcastic look. "We…you mean, you?"

Abby laughed out loud. "Heck no, I mean the three of us, I just helped." Her voice reverted to the one they all were familiar with.

"Gerald, please prep Corporal Grearson's body for autopsy. We have a mystery to solve."

"The game is afoot, Doctor?" The lead orderly was trying hard to match the others' merriment.

His efforts fell flat. An uncomfortable silence filled the room.

"Gerald please, as I've told you before, this is not dinner theatre."

"Sorry doctor," Gerald was wishing he was anywhere else but here. He started to grab Sergeant Colwell's gurney in order to wheel it out of there.

Donald Mallard knew he had been riding Gerald hard lately, but it was only for his own good. He was also encouraging the man to attend medical school. When he thought about it, there was no reason to rain on his parade in this particular case.

It had actually been a pretty good assessment of what they were doing.

Ducky raised his hand and shook his head. "No, I'm the one who should be sorry, Gerald, you're right, there *is indeed* game afoot tonight."

Sims'/Roberts' Household

Falls Church, Virginia

The phone rang only once before Harriet Sims grabbed the receiver.

"Hello?" The Lieutenant's voice was wide awake with fear and dread. (Please don't let it be about Bud….)

"Oh ma'am I apologize for calling you this late-"

"Sergeant Givers?" Harriet said with relief filling her voice. Her tone immediately changed to one of concern. "What's the matter?"

"It's Major Clemons, ma'am," began the Sergeant hurriedly. "She came by to see me, to see how I was doing, and before you know it, she was crying and saying it was her fault I got hurt, and then she left her insignia-"

"Easy Sergeant, easy; slow down," Harriet said soothingly to the obviously upset Sergeant Givers.

"The Major left her insignia on my night stand," said Marla, regaining some of her control. "She said it was her fault that I nearly got killed, and oh Ma'am, I'm afraid she's going to do something rash-"

"Sergeant, Sergeant Givers! Get a hold of yourself!" Harriet snapped, hoping the strength of a commanding voice would be enough to calm the obviously distraught Sergeant.

"Yes ma'am!" Marla quickly responded to the voice of a commanding officer. "Sorry ma'am, I-"

"It's okay, Sergeant," Harriet Sims said soothingly as she climbed out of bed and grabbed her robe, putting it on. "Now, did the Major say where she was going?"

"No ma'am." There was a brief pause. When she came back on, Lieutenant Sims could tell that Sergeant Givers was back in control. "Where do you think she went, Lieutenant?"

"I have my suspicions, Sergeant." Harriet Sims said firmly. "I think I know where she is. I'll find her."

"Yes ma'am; thank you ma'am, I'm sorry to have disturbed you-"

"It's quite all right, Sergeant," Harriet said as she walked over to the easy chair where her clothes were neatly arranged. She began to put on a pair of relaxed fit dress slacks. "Don't worry about a thing."

She cut the connection and put the phone down on the nearby dresser. Then she struggled with the blouse trying to get it to fit decently. "Come on Junior," she grunted to the kicking child within her, "We gotta find a babysitter and find the Major before she does something stupid."

2215 Local

NCIS Morgue

Gerald and Abby stood by as Ducky and Commander Coulter began their preliminary examination of Corporal Grearson.

Ducky opened the dead man's mouth to examine his teeth. As he made note of an abscess on one of man's molars, he spoke to the Navy Pathologist.

"I don't see any evidence of preparation for burial on this man either, when did you intercept the Corporal?"

"We got him as he arrived at Dover Air Force Base yesterday. The family insisted that we investigate his death first."

That caused the NCIS Medical Examiner to pause. He looked up at Teresa. "They did?"

"Yes. Something about the way he died. His mother said that her son would have never been shot by just some sniper. There had to be foul play involved."

Ducky looked up at Teresa. "Indeed?"

She nodded. "Uh huh; do you want me to start the incisions, Doctor?"

Donald Mallard looked at the Forensic Pathologist and then at Abby and Gerald. "I think we should let them do the honors, don't you?"

Teresa looked over at them. Abby looked eager to try again. Gerald seemed less sure about this.

She gave the M.E. a pleasant smile. She was beginning to understand that he was building a better rapport with his people. It was an admirable and endearing trait.

"Of course, Doctor."

That was all the encouragement the Goth girl needed. Abby grabbed a reluctant Gerald's arm before he could say anything. "C'mon Gerald, it's easy, I'll let you cut first!"

0640 Local

Officer's Mess

Camp Chesty Puller

Sturgis Turner settled down at the table with his tray of food and coffee. He quickly scanned the room looking for his tall academy buddy and that inscrutable Marine Lieutenant Colonel partner of his. They were nowhere to be seen.

The Bubblehead dug into his food. He had slept in a little later than usual this morning simply because he his brain had still been tossing around all the information that Bud Roberts had given him yesterday. It was a lot to digest.

Sure PFC Secord had confessed, but now like Bud, he really couldn't believe that this Marine had been a one-man hit team, eliminating so many people. No, Adam Secord had help. Okay, so who had helped him? Or better yet, who was a better suspect as the real killer?

Thankfully, their list of suspects had been shortened considerably with the deaths of Corporal Grearson, Sergeant Colwell, and PFC Krivstad.

Sturgis thought again about what he had read in Mac's report Special Agent Webb. It was that last paragraph, he had read before the final court proceedings began that planted the idea in his mind.

'…it is highly likely that the traitor within unit OIF-M7 is at the least a junior commissioned officer but more likely, a mid-level commissioned officer. All recent activity related to terrorist acts in the region indicate a commissioned officer is aiding enemy efforts. See Appendix C, likely suspects….'

As Sturgis chewed over those thoughts, he saw out of the corner of his eye Lieutenant Bud Roberts making his way toward his table.

"I don't see the Commander or the Colonel, where are they this morning, Bud?"

Bud set his tray on the table. "They just left, sir. The Colonel reports to Colonel Livingston's unit this morning and the Commander had to check in with Major Barnett."

He stiffly sat down across from the Navy Commander. He sometimes still had awkward moments with his new leg.

"I see." Sturgis took a sip of his coffee and made a face. He was actually starting to miss Tiner's brew.

Both men ate in silence for a moment.

"Uh, Sir?"

"Yes Bud?"

"Saturday, just before the Court Martial got underway, you said you think you know who might have killed Lieutenant Dodge."

The Bubblehead paused. "I did?" He set his fork down. "I guess I did at that." He admitted.

"Who do you think did it, sir?" Bud seemed anxious to know what the Commander thought.

"Well, I don't believe PFC Secord did it, Bud." Sturgis said evasively.

Bud gave him a look of agreement. "Neither do I, sir."

The former submarine officer decided to see what the junior JAG Corps officer's thinking was on the subject. "Who do you think did it, Bud?"

Bud met his challenge head on. "Well sir, I think Captain Lewis had something to do with it."

"Captain Lewis?" Sturgis' mind immediately flew back to Mac's report about OIF-M7 '…a mid-level commissioned officer….'

"Yes sir." Bud said firmly.

"What makes you think he did it?" Sturgis didn't mean for his words to come out sounding harsh, but they did, nonetheless.

Litigator Lieutenant Roberts was unruffled. He had been prepared for this kind of reaction. "He's apparently good friends with Colonel Livingston. She was doing everything possible to move the hearing, and then the trial, along. I didn't think anything about it at first, sir. But the longer it went on, the more I noticed him conferring with the Colonel. Especially when things looked bad for our case against Lieutenants Lukens and Buell. And there was something else,"

The preacher's son was truly impressed with Bud's observations. The Lieutenant had not only been able to focus on the case at hand but he had picked up on the subtle communication between Colonel Livingston and Captain Lewis without letting it color his co-prosecution. "Go on Lieutenant,"

"Well sir, he's connected in some way to everyone who's died or disappeared."

Sturgis stopped eating for the second time since their talk began. "You never told me that, Bud."

The Lieutenant's half-embarrassed expression was designed to let the Commander know he hadn't thought this information was very important. "They were my own private suspicions, sir. The information I found at the time had no bearing on our case."

Sturgis' sense of justice was offended by this statement, but the lawyer in him knew what the Lieutenant was saying was correct.

"That's true, Bud. But now that we have our case out of the way, we need to look at any piece of information that comes our way. That includes your suspicions. Do you have any solid evidence that points to the Captain?"

"Well, the Colonel and I, when we were doing our witness interviews, learned from the other witnesses that Captain Lewis is an expert marksman, sir."

Sturgis took another sip from his cup. "He is, is he?"

Bud nodded grimly. "Yes sir. And he knows a lot about rifles, Commander, especially sniper rifles."

Bud Roberts was making some serious accusations. "What are you suggesting, Lieutenant?"

He took a deep breath and then looked the Commander directly in the eyes. "Sir, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I think he used a rifle that can fire 9mm rounds to kill Lieutenant Dodge. I don't think Secord has the skill or ability to create such a rifle, but I think the Captain does."

Sturgis sat back. "That doesn't sound as crazy as you might think, Bud."

"Really, sir?"

Sturgis nodded his head. "If you're going where I think you're going, I saw the same Sherlock Holmes episode."

The junior JAG Corps officer looked befuddled. Of all of them, Commander Sturgis Turner had been the most level headed. Were they rubbing off on him? "Then you think it's possible, sir?"

Sturgis gave the junior JAG officer a reassuring smile. "Let's just say it's not outside the realm of possibility, Lieutenant. But we need to test our theory first, though."

"We can ask for help from Doctor Mallard, the NCIS Medical Examiner." Bud offered.

Sturgis nodded as he finished his coffee. "I was thinking the same thing, Lieutenant. Grab your cover and let's go over to Gibbs' quarters and see if we can arrange to do just that."

0715 Local

Videoconference Room, MEU Headquarters

Camp Chesty Puller

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs took a long pull on his foam coffee cup. It wasn't Starbucks, but it did have a good kick to it. Marine brew usually did.

His eyes slid over to the MEU communications technician who had just finished re-booting the videoconference CPU. Then his eyes went to the two JAG officers who had just asked him if they could sit in on this video teleconference (VTC).

He had thought about saying 'no', but this was a joint JAG-NCIS investigation, so against his better judgment, he let them stay.

"I have the connection with NCIS Headquarters, Special Agent Gibbs."

Gibbs nodded, "Thanks Sergeant. Ducky, can you hear me?"

The voice of Doctor Donald Mallard was surprisingly chipper despite the late hour in D.C. "Loud and clear, Jethro. Is that Tony and Commander Coleman with you?"

"Hey Ducky," Tony said in his usual jocular manner.

"Good evening Doctor Mallard," Faith said in her usual clipped tones.

"And a good morning to you, Tony, Commander."

Gibbs knew he had to get the medical examiner back on track, or they would be here all morning. "Ducky! What have you got for me?"

The doctor seemed somewhat startled. "Oh sorry, Jethro, we-"

His findings were drowned out by a petulant voice belonging to a young woman in the background waving her arms. "Hey Gibbs! Hey! Aren't you even going to say hello?"

The senior NCIS Special Agent knew that woman's voice right away. "Hello Abbs," Gibbs ground out.

Abby was unruffled by Gibbs' growled response. "Boy, who knew you were such a grump at this hour, Gibbs? Is that any way to talk to a friend?"

The senior NCIS Special Agent gave Abby a hard stare which immediately quieted her. "Ducky?"

"Ahem, Right you are, Jethro. With the help of Commander Coulter…she was asked by Admiral Chegwidden to help us, by the way…anyway, we found something you might find very interesting."

"I'm listening."

"Our autopsy of Sergeant Colwell revealed that the man was shot at point blank range. Jethro, a first year medical student should have spotted this…."

"So what you're telling me is that the Captain lied to us."

The NCIS M.E. nodded. "Without a doubt, Jethro; the angle of the entry wound is wrong for someone who was struggling with another person. The person who killed our good Sergeant was facing him as if in conversation, not in a heated struggle."

"Thanks Ducky."

"And there's something else…."

"Yeah Duck?"

"Well, I'd better let Abby tell you. Abby?"

"First, you know PFC Krivstad? Well, he was beaten to a pulp, literally. And then his neck was crushed – not just snapped. Ducky's right, Gibbs, the MEU doc over there is either incredibly dumb, or part of this. And whoever used the guy as a punching bag, was working out a lot of anger and frustration. But the big surprise; guess what I found out when I took the bullets that we retrieved from Lieutenant Dodge, Corporal Grearson, and Sergeant Colwell to the lab and ran some tests?"

A new voice responded. "The rounds were fired from a rifle specially chambered to also fit 9 millimeter rounds as well as normal rifle rounds."

Abby came closer to the screen and shaded her eyes so she could get a better look at the people in the Mirbullah videoconference room. "Wow, uh, I hate to sound crass, but who are you? And how did you know that?"

Gibbs had been so focused on getting this meeting started, that he had forgotten he'd allowed Commander Turner and Lieutenant Roberts to sit in.

"Ducky, Abby, Commander Coulter, this is Commander Sturgis Turner and Lieutenant Bud Roberts, JAG Corps."

Sturgis stepped closer to the video screen. "It was actually Lieutenant Roberts' theory…."

Ducky gave the JAG officers a friend smile. "Ah, Lieutenant Roberts, we haven't heard from you in a while. And a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Commander Turner."

Bud was intent on making his point. "Somebody went to a lot of trouble to make it look like those nine millimeter rounds were fired from a pistol and not a rifle when Lieutenant Dodge was killed."

"That is an intriguing theory, Lieutenant. In the vein of Sherlock Holmes, I believe."

"Yes sir," Bud was glad his theory wasn't being dismissed. "So you've seen the episode?"

"Absolutely Lieutenant; it just so happens to be one of mother's favorite shows." Ducky seem to bite off the last part of that statement.

Gibbs would have suppressed a grin knowing about Ducky's mother's eccentricities, but he was preoccupied by the thought that Rabb and MacKenzie might have actually struck gold and found the killer – practically right in front of them.

They knew from Ducky's examination that Captain Lewis had most likely killed Sergeant Colwell. Now they had evidence, albeit circumstantial, tying him to Grearson's and Dodge's deaths.

This case was growing more convoluted by the moment. Gibbs wondered whether or not he should get Mac out of Darcy's unit, since it seemed like everything that was tied to Lewis also led straight back to Darcy Livingston.

"Is that all you have for me, Abbs?"

Abby looked from Ducky to Commander Coulter and then back at the screen. "Well yeah, Gibbs, what else do you need?"

"I need hard evidence that Captain Lewis is our man," the senior NCIS Special Agent said flatly, "and that there's a connection between him and Colonel Darcy Livingston."

Abby Sciuto looked up at the camera suddenly. "Darcy Livingston? Uh, Gibbs, I want you to promise me something."

Gibbs tried hard to not to growl at her. "What is it, Abbs?"

"First, you have to promise me you won't get mad…"

Gibbs stared hard again at his star Forensic Specialist.

"Promise," she repeated a little more forcefully and with a hint of desperation.

Gibbs could feel his anger building, but he went along with her request. Maybe it was because, in a way, she reminded him of Kelly. "Okay Abby, I promise I won't get mad."

"Swear on your mother's grave-"

"Abby!" The Goth girl flinched at his sudden Marine bark.

Abby began her babbling explanation. "Okay, okay…well, you know our case from about seven months ago? Well, what I didn't tell you then is that I know Darcy…well, 'know' isn't exactly the right word, but it fits in this case-"

"Abby!"

"It wasn't important then, Gibbs," she pleaded, "that's why I didn't mention it."

Despite his fondness for her, Gibbs had almost reached the end of his patience. "How do you *know* her?"

Abby gave him a blank look. "You're kidding right?" That earned her another hard stare. She melted. "Um, sorry Gibbs, it just slipped out. She was a well known person in our area."

That wasn't enough for Special Agent Gibbs. "Well known for *what*?"

"Uh, well known for being…a witch…and getting what she wanted."

Tony couldn't resist the opportunity to lighten suddenly tense moment. He moved closer to the screen. "Abby, when you say witch, do you mean in the sense of 'I'll get you, my pretty…and your little dog too'?

Abby, still intimidated from her encounter with Angry Gibbs, tittered nervously. Faith allowed a small smile to reach her lips.

Gibbs reached around and slapped Tony on the back of the head.

Tony rubbed the back of his head as he looked around at his superior. "It's a reference to The Wizard of Oz, Boss," he said by way of explanation.

"I know that," Gibbs snapped, "but it's not important to our case."

Gibbs turned so he could see both Tony and Faith. "You two; get out there and find me a connection between Captain Lewis and Colonel Livingston!

"On it Boss!" Tony said automatically as he hurried towards the back of the room.

As Special Agent DiNozzo got within earshot of Faith, she whispered in his ear as she grabbed his arm. "He knows about The Wizard of Oz?" Her whisper had a definite light tone to it. That combined with her slight sneer was designed to irk Tony.

Gibbs knew she hadn't meant for him to hear that. That's why he answered the question. That and the fact she was needling Tony. That was *his* department. So he answered in such a fashion that it made it sound like that was the stupidest question in the world.

"Of course I know about The Wizard of Oz, *Commander*, what do think I do, live under a rock on the yellow brick road?"

Tony and Faith shared stunned looks.

Faith turned quickly back to Gibbs, trying to repair the damage. "Uh, no Gibbs, absolutely not, I mean, uh, of course not."

"Find me a link between Lewis and Livingston, Commander."

The coolness in his tone made Faith fight the urge to say 'Aye Sir' to him. That kind of a response would have only earned her more ridicule. She and Tony both scurried from the room.

As they departed, the two JAG Officers quietly excused themselves, leaving Gibbs with Ducky and company.

As they entered the hallway, Faith Coleman gave Tony another smirk. "I thought you said he wasn't up on pop culture…."

Tony was ready for her. "It had to happen sometime, Fai – Commander Coleman. Law of Averages." He had to watch it; he was getting too familiar with her. She did have a certain allure.

"Special Agent DiNozzo?"

Faith and Tony turned to see Bud Roberts and Sturgis Turner closing the distance between them.

Tony plastered his trademark grin on his face. "Hey, uh, Lieutenant Roberts, isn't it? How's it goin'?"

Sturgis let Bud do the talking. "I think we can help you with finding the link between Captain Lewis and Colonel Livingston…."

"Oh yeah?"

0430 Zulu

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

Carly sat in her darkened office staring at the brightly lit screen of her computer. She didn't want the light on, because she didn't want to see the repairs being done to the room. It would remind her of that dark day all over again. Darkness was more comforting and soothing and less distracting.

She hit enter a couple of times on her keyboard, then moved her mouse to the dropdown box and selected 'print'. In a few moments the laser printer next to her monitor spit out the typed letter. She held it up to the glow of the monitor to read the printed words.

"It works better to read with the lights on, Ma'am." As she was saying that, Harriet Sims snapped them on, startling Major Clemons.

Carly quickly put the paper down on her desk. "Lieutenant," she said calmly "Isn't it a little early for you to be here?" She didn't even mention the fact that Harriet was dressed in civilian clothes.

"I came down at the request of a concerned Sergeant," Harriet said, moving into the office.

"A concerned Sergeant?" Carly was obviously confused. "What was he concerned about?"

"Not 'he' Major, she. Sergeant Givers; she was worried about you."

"Worried about me?" Carly said, feigning indifference "Why?"

"Well it may have to do with the fact that you left your insignia on her night stand," Harriet said moving closer to her desk. "And because you told her it was 'all your fault' that she almost got killed."

Harriet saw Carly falter for a moment before regaining her stalwart Marine officer demeanor. "The Sergeant's just overstressed from her injuries," Carly said trying to dismiss the accusation. "I was just here tidying up a little before I went home-"

Harriet quickly snatched up the paper on Carly's desk and began reading aloud. "Admiral Chegwidden: I take full responsibility for the injuries sustained by Sergeant Marla Givers-"

Carly tried to rip the paper out of her hand. "Give that back," she hissed, "You have no right-"

"I have every right, ma'am," fired back Harriet "You have a wounded Sergeant at Dominion worried sick that you're going to do something foolish, you leave your insignia by her bedside and here is a resignation letter-"

"It's my own damn business what I do," growled Carly, grabbing the paper from Harriet's hands, "And forgive me for saying so, *Lieutenant*, but it's none of *your* damned business what I do with my life-"

Harriet grabbed her arm. "It is when you think about throwing away your career over a mistake anybody could have made, even Admiral Chegwidden."

"He didn't, but I did-"

"And you're going to fix it by resigning-" Harriet stopped when she saw the haunted look in Carly's eyes. "Oh my God, Major-"

"What do you care Lieutenant?" Carly said sarcastically with a bitter laugh. "I know you've wanted to slug me from day one…."

"Major…Carly…nothing is worth this."

"You know, your 'Mary Poppins' attitude really makes me sick sometimes Lieutenant," Carly lashed out, but Harriet wasn't hurt or insulted. She knew why Carly was being so nasty.

"It's my 'Mary Poppins' attitude that keeps me going Major," said Harriet firmly. She locked eyes with the angry Major. "Now like it or not, Ma'am, people are worried about you, and I'm not about to let you do something stupid just to satisfy some warped code of honor that you've developed-"

"Then you better get ready to knock me out, because it's the only way you're going to stop me-"

Harriet Sims moved around the desk until she was facing the Major "I may just have to hit you, ma'am, but it won't be to knock you out; it'll be to knock some sense into that thick skull of yours!"

0750 Local

SJAG Headquarters, 36th MEU

Camp Chesty Puller

Harm saw the two men conferring for a moment with the PFC pointing towards the Commander. For whatever reason, Harm felt a bit uneasy about this person. Why, he didn't know, maybe it was his old fighter pilot's instinct kicking in.

"Commander Rabb?"

"Yes, Sergeant?"

The enlisted man handed him a set of papers. "Your orders, sir."

"Orders?" Harm was now genuinely mystified and his adrenaline level was rising rapidly. Just like it did before a dogfight. "Orders from whom? Admiral Chegwidden?"

"No sir, these come from CENTCOM in Bahrain."

"CENTCOM?"

"Yes sir," the Sergeant said obviously intent on getting to the next person on his list. "Have a good afternoon, sir." The man saluted smartly and hurried on his way.

Harm absently returned the salute, focusing most of his attention on the documents he now held in his hands. He quickly read through the addressing information and skimmed the first paragraph.

'…due to high levels of G-strain Influenza that are affecting the Carrier Strike Groups in the Persian Gulf area of operations, all combat qualified pilots with Reserve status are hereby ordered to report to the nearest local airbase by no later than 0900 local, 16 July 2003. Follow-up orders and duty assignments will be provided at that time…..'

Harm re-read the section again. He felt his pulse quicken as he quickly devoured the words again.

'…all combat qualified pilots with Reserve status are hereby ordered to report to the nearest local airbase….'

He couldn't believe what he was reading. They were bringing him back to active combat duty status. He immediately felt guilty for thanking that flu bug for giving him this opportunity to fly again.

Despite what lawyer Harmon Rabb said to his JAG Corps co-workers about how he really didn't miss flying all the much, the truth was, deep down, he did.

It was a void that not even 1,000 flights in Sarah, or any other substitute craft for that matter, could fill.

He longed to smell the pungent tang of avgas mixed with sea spray from waves smacking the ship's prow. The burnt rubber from landing gear tires, the muggy steam of the carrier's catapult system, the various invigorating fragrances you could only find on a carrier at sea.

But these orders didn't say anything about going to a carrier. All they hinted at was that CENTCOM needed combat pilots. For all he knew, he would be shipped to Kuwait to ferry fighters from the bases in those countries. Well, even a little time as a ferry pilot would do him good.

And besides it was a chance to get back in the seat of a fighter jet. Something the boy inside Harmon Rabb, jr. always loved doing. And he really never had stopped loving it.

Then a cold wave of reality hit him.

Mac.

What would she think about this?

(She'd understand,) his Tomcat jockey side rationalized, (After all, Marines know that orders have to be obeyed….)

(But she knows your track record when it comes to flying, Hammer,) His logical side argued. (How many close calls have you had?)

(Those were flukes,) the jet jock said petulantly, (Unfortunate incidents. I flew hundreds of hours over Kosovo back in 1999 and didn't have one single problem….)

(But that was 1999,) his lawyer side argued back, (And this is 2003. Remember what happened in May and what about in June of 2001?)

(That wouldn't have happened if I'd been in a Tomcat…and the other was due to a faulty plane….) the voice inside the jet jock's head said sullenly.

(Are you sure about that, Hammer?) The lawyer side of him responded in its best courtroom voice. (Are you willing to bet your life on that?)

Harm grinned to himself because he knew that answer. (Damn right I am!)

He stole a quick glance at his watch. Mac would be heading to ….the practice range soon. He'd get there ahead of her so could practice what he was going to say to her. She'd understand….

He hoped.

Harm made his way over to the 36th MEU's make-shift firing range. There were a couple of old abandoned houses on the course as well as a couple of wrecked civilian cars and trucks. There was a line of soldiers firing a mixture of automatic rifles and pistols into two separate areas.

"Cease fire, cease fire! Clear and lock all weapons! Check your targets!"

The soldiers on the range stopped firing, cleared any rounds left in their weapons' chambers and put them on safety. When given the all clear they began to walk down range to their targets to see how they'd done.

Harm watched Mac field stripping her rifle. She had once boasted she could do this blindfolded. He had no doubt she still could.

Mac looked up and a small smile was quickly replaced by a disgusted grimace.

"What are you doing here?" She snorted at him.

Harm gave her his best angry look. "You and I need to talk. Now." He hissed.

"We can talk right here, Commander," she said coldly. Even though she was really happy to see him, she couldn't let anyone here know that, lest they tell Darcy. So she had to make it look good.

He forcefully grabbed her arm and pulled her along with him, "We'll talk over here, Colonel." At an earlier time here in the camp, he had done the same thing, although more by accident than anything else, this time it was deliberate.

"Let go of my arm or I'll rip yours out of your socket, Swabbie!" she growled.

"Die trying, Jarhead. We're gonna talk now!"

All the Marines at the range watched this wild exchange. No one said anything. Then two Marines turned to the others.

"Uh, shouldn't…uh, shouldn't we do something?" said the taller of the two. His partner looked ready to rip Harm apart.

"Son, that's a private matter between the legal eagles," drawled a grizzled Sergeant "Ain't none of our business. Now get back down range, both of you."

The two Marines reluctantly walked back to their firing positions. The grizzled Sergeant shot a quick glance over at the two JAG officers. They sure were a fiery pair.

"Wasn't that a bit melodramatic?" Mac hissed as they stood facing each other.

On her face was a look of pure hatred, but her voice said differently.

Harm's voice was equally soft. "We had to make it look good, Marine. You know that."

"Why are you here?"

"Change of plans," he whispered casually, "CENTCOM has put me on active flying status…."

"What?" Mac's whisper was almost too loud.

"That flu bug that's been hanging around here has grounded a lot of the pilots in the task force. They've called up all Reserve pilots, including me."

Mac suddenly grabbed his arm and yanked him toward a nearby shed. "You're gonna be sorry you ever laid a hand on me, Commander."

As Mac shoved Harm into the shed's wall and out of the line of sight of those on the firing range, the murderous look in her eyes faded, replaced by a look of concern.

"Harm please listen to me; I don't want you flying…."

The tall Naval Commander was still smarting from being flung against the shed wall, but he knew that it was necessary in order for them to have this conversation unmolested. "Are you still afraid I'll lose myself, Mac?" He was half-way teasing her, hoping it would ease the tenseness.

It didn't. The Marine JAG's face became more anguished looking. "No, you know the reason." She was talking about the nightmares that had been plaguing since this case began. "Promise me you won't fly."

Harm didn't know what to say. He could see the look of fear and distress in her pretty features. "You know I can't do that Mac," he said helplessly.

She nodded as if accepting what he had said. But he should have known she wasn't giving up. Her voice came out in almost a commanding tone. "Harm, listen to me; you can't do this-!"

The aviator/lawyer screwed up his face in disbelief. "I can't do this? …Mac, these are orders from CENTCOM. What do you want me to do? Go UA?"

Her voice became more commanding and hint of anxiety crept in. "Harm, you know what will happen; if you fly, you'll be shot down…and killed! I can't let that happen to you!"

"Mac we've got everything under control. I'll tell Gibbs to keep an eye on you, he is 'your boyfriend', you know." That earned the Navy man a harsh glare. "Well okay, not your real boyfriend, but you know what I mean. We've got our killers under surveillance…it's only a matter of time; the lion's teeth have been pulled. There's no more danger." Harm wasn't even sure he believed that, but he had to say something.

"Mac, you know I can't live a life ruled by superstition and psychic impressions." He was trying to shock her into accepting the truth. Wait a minute, shocking her didn't work….

Something flared in Mac's eyes. "And I can't just stand by and do nothing, Harm. Psychic visions saved your life once, I-" She suddenly stopped.

Her voice turned accusatory. "You're holding out on me, Hammer. You want this, don't you?"

Harm felt the air leave his chest. "Mac, I-" he had no words.

Mac words turned bitterly sarcastic "I should have seen this coming! I'm a Marine Lieutenant Colonel! Why didn't I see this coming? Why do *you* always do this?"

She was referring to his leaving back in 1999 for the Patrick Henry and again in 2001 to do his qualifications days before her rehearsal dinner, and the many other times he had left her to go flying.

Harm grabbed her by the shoulders. "Mac…Mac…Mac! I'll come back."

Hot tears spilled down her flushed cheeks. She sniffled. "Don't make-" her declaration was cut off by his index finger touching her lips.

Harm gave her that dazzling smile of his as he moved closer to her. "I haven't yet." The words were almost muffled by her mouth hungrily descending on his.

They stayed that way for as long as they dared. When they finished, Mac slapped him as hard as she could. The crack of her slap could be heard across the silent firing range.

"Stay away from me, Commander!" she barked. But as he recovered from her slap, he saw her mouth the words. 'Be careful up there, Harm. I love you'.

Mac watched stoically as Harm boarded the HMMWV. He turned to look at her, she feigned indifference while giving the slightest of nods to the Commander. She had accepted what he was doing.

(Be careful up there, Hammer….) she silently said a prayer. "Good riddance," she said loud enough for anyone around her to hear.

As the HMMWV pulled out onto the camp's main road, Mac felt someone walk up behind her.

"You always try to sneak up on officers, Corporal Danvers?" The Marine JAG said with her back still turned to Kayce.

"No ma'am. But I can offer a shoulder if the Colonel needs one, no strings attached." The comment wasn't snide. It seemed sincere, but with Darcy's folks you could never tell….

Mac turned to face the Force Recon trooper. Her voice mirrored the steel in her eyes. "What makes you think I need *a shoulder*, Corporal?" Kayce had crossed a line and Mac wanted her to know it.

"No disrespect meant ma'am. It's just that I've been there and I know how that feels."

"How what feels, Corporal?"

"To see someone…" Kayce was choosing her words carefully, "…a friend, go off on a combat mission, not knowing if he will make it back."

"He's not a friend." That part was true; he was more. "Commander Rabb is an experienced fighter pilot, Corporal," Mac said confidently. At least she thought she sounded confident. "I'm not worried that he won't make it back. He's too cocky to die."

"Yes ma'am, I- I'm sorry I…" she looked Mac in the eyes with a soulful stare. "I just wanted…to help ma'am. Before someone else in the unit tried to *help* you." She saluted smartly, "I was out of line. Sorry to have disturbed you, ma'am."

Kayce walked past the JAG Corps Colonel headed for the camp post exchange. Mac wasn't sure what this Kayce Danver's game was, but she thought she'd better play along. It seemed that people in Darcy's unit did things differently. Besides, this might be a way to find out a little bit more about how this unit worked.

"Corporal?"

Kayce stopped and turned back toward her. "Yes ma'am?"

"Your friend, how…how is he?"

"He had to ditch in the ocean last year off the Pakistani coast. The PJs found him floating in a slick of oil and debris." Before Mac could say anything, Kayce confirmed what the Marine JAG thought she was going to say.

"He'd choked on the oil and avgas that had leaked from his plane, the sea in that area had been pretty rough that day."

"I'm sorry, Corporal." Mac said with genuine regret. If what she was telling her was a sympathy ply to win Mac's trust, it was a good one.

"It's okay ma'am, he told me this might happen someday and we both knew the risks, still I wish – I wish I had had someone to talk to about it then."

Mac decided to add vulnerability to the list of weaknesses of 'her' Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie had.

"Maybe I do need that shoulder…."That earned her a look from Kayce. "To help you Danvers. You don't seem like you're over this yet."

"No ma'am," she said quietly, "I guess I'm not."

MEU Videoconference Room

Gibbs had just finished his conference call with Ducky and the others. As he was about to step out of the room, the technician gave him a surprised look.

"Incoming call from MTAC, Special Agent Gibbs."

The senior NCIS Agent moved back towards the screen. The camera was already focusing in on a man standing in the Multiple Threat Assessment Center videoconference room back in Anacostia.

"Good morning, sir."

Director Morrow nodded. "Gibbs," His hooded, dark-circled eyes indicated the man hadn't had much sleep lately.

The head of NCIS didn't waste any time. "I don't have to tell you what's being going on back here."

Gibbs was never one to mince words. "No sir, you don't."

"Everybody wants a piece of these traitors and their terrorist buddies. Homeland Security, NSA, CIA, DIA, FBI, DSD…they all want in on the act. I also have the Joint Chiefs pushing a certain blue light unit on me. …can you assure me you and your team can take these tangos out before they can act?"

If anyone else had asked the NCIS Agent that question, Gibbs would have chuckled. But he wouldn't do that to Tom Morrow. They had been through too much together. "That's not my call, sir. This is a joint JAG-NCIS Op. The Admiral has overall command, sir."

The NCIS Director sighed; he hated it when Gibbs rolled out the chain-of-command protocol. "Do you think Commander Rabb and his team can pull off this op with your assistance?" he asked bluntly.

Gibbs' face broke into the wry smile of his. "I believe they are they only ones who can, sir."

Director Morrow knew he was enjoying this. Gibbs always did love tweaking the noses of the other agencies. "If this doesn't work, we're going to catch hell on the Hill."

Gibbs' voice was now distinctly somber. "Sir, if this doesn't work, it won't matter. Everyone will catch hell."

Tom Morrow knew the man was right.

"Then give them all the assistance they need, Gibbs."

Gibbs nodded. "Understood sir."

-TBC…


	55. Chapter 54

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 54

A/N1: Disclaimers and other vital information can be found in story archive for …FMS which can be found in the story chapter notes.

A/N2: **~~** indicates flashback or dream sequence ( ) indicates the thoughts of a person. *~* indicates a scene shift not otherwise indicated by a JAG time stamp.

1230 Local

Baghdad International Airport [BIAP]

Baghdad, Iraq

As the helicopter touched down on the tarmac, Harm was shaken out of his slumber by his seatmate. Despite his unease with helos, the aviator/lawyer had been able to fall asleep quite soundly. It could have to do with the fact he and Mac had been going full tilt since the court martial proceedings had ended.

"Okay, you jet jockeys, up and at'em!" The helo's crew chief barked, "let's hit that ground running!" As Harm stumbled out of his seat, he noted the sadistic smile plastered on the man's face.

The chief's 'order' was met with grunts, mumbles, and a few under-the-breath curse words from the departing aviators.

As Harm made his way from his seat to the lowered ramp, his seatmate, a young cocky Marine First Lieutenant clapped him on the back. "C'mon Commander, time to get back to Naval Air."

Jake had, in the past, served in a couple of carrier based F-18 squadrons, so he was familiar with both Navy and Marine slang.

Harm gave the Lieutenant a sleep-filled grin.

The JAG Corps attorney joined a line of bored and sleepy looking Marine and Naval personnel who made their way from their ride to the busy interior of the jetport. In his mind, the aviator/lawyer was thinking about what Mac had said to him yesterday evening….

"Well Mac, what did Mr. Green say?"

"Not much, but he did indicate that there was a DSD operation in Afghanistan in October 2001 and that Captain Lewis might have worked with them."

"So where do we go from here?"

"We locate a Special Agent Albruzzo…we're supposed to meet him at BIAP…."

Harm realized that with their respective new assignments, it was likely neither of them would get a chance to see the DSD Special Agent.

Maybe that was for the best.

Then he casually looked down at his watch and realized he and Mac were supposed to meet the DSD agent in less than ten minutes! Harm looked around and saw a tired looking soldier with Marine Captain's bars who seemed to be manning an information kiosk.

"Excuse me, Jake," he said to his seat partner, the youngish looking Marine aviator, "I'll be right back."

"You'd better be, buddy," the Lieutenant said smiling, "I'm not going to hold your space on that COD."

Truth was, Jake wanted to stick with Harm as long as possible. He was smart enough to know the Commander just might share some tactical advice with him – if he made himself available.

A COD. They were taking him out to a carrier…maybe. (Steady yourself, Hammer. They could be using COD aircraft to get the pilots to their land destinations more quickly…)

Still, he had to risk missing the flight to get this information from the DSD. It was vital to their case…and Bud, Sturgis and the NCIS team were going to need all the help they could get.

Harm walked up the kiosk. "Excuse me, Captain?"

The Marine Captain looked up from his terminal. "What can I do for you, Commander?"

"Terminal 1A?"

"Over there, just behind the stairwell." He said pointing. Then he gave the tall Naval Commander an appraising look. "Say, you're part of the aviators they're recruiting because of the flu bug, right?"

The kiosk Captain noted the guy was tall, but at he realized that at this point CENTCOM probably wasn't being too picky….

"Yeah," Harm said hurriedly as he turned toward the terminal entrance, not wanting to lose anymore time than he already had.

"You've got fifteen minutes," the Captain called out to Harm, "and then the COD goes without you. Good luck Commander, I hope it's worth it."

The JAG Corps attorney gave the officer a friendly wave as thanks.

"It is, Captain." Harm said quietly.

Harm's long stride brought him down the walkway to the terminal gates in a little under a minute. The airport was full of aviators and soldiers flying in and out of Baghdad.

As the Commander searched the surging crowd, he saw a guy dressed in a non-descript sport coat and khaki pants standing over to one side of the walkway. He was holding a brown leather portfolio and a tan attaché case. As the Commander approached, the man sat down on an adjacent bench. Harm walked over to him.

"Special Agent Albruzzo?"

He nodded and looked Harm up and down scrutinizing him "You're Rabb, aren't you?"

Harm looked grimly at the man, not knowing what to expect next. "You've heard of me, I take it,"

The agent gave him a humorless smile that quickly disappeared. "Yeah, in relation to Clark Palmer…. Look; I don't have a lot of time. Here's the information you and Colonel MacKenzie requested."

As Harm slowly took the bulging portfolio, a look of confusion crossed his face "We didn't request any packets of information…. Why are you doing this?"

The man smiled again; this time with a faint trace of warmth in it. "Call it a peace offering from the DSD for Palmer's antics." That brought a surprised looked from the Commander which melted into suspicion as he fingered the leather portfolio.

Albruzzo chuckled at the JAG attorney's distrust. "Trust me Commander, you'll want what's in here. I have to go now; gotta plane to catch."

With that, he hurriedly got up from his seat and jogged down the jetport and joined the passengers boarding a Swiss Air flight.

When Harm couldn't see him anymore, he turned his attention back to the portfolio. As he slowly opened it, he found himself sitting down as he leafed through the papers that were inside.

It contained a service record for Captain Lewis along with an annotated list of DSD operations on which he'd worked and several other sheaves of papers both stapled and clipped together.

Mac stood on the firing range, willing her breathing to slow down. Carefully she took aim at the target downrange and squeezed the trigger.

A three round burst erupted from the automatic rifle she was holding.

The grizzled Sergeant, chewing on a toothpick, lowered his binoculars. "That's mighty good shootin', ma'am."

Mac nodded her head in satisfaction. "Thank you, Sergeant. What's next?"

"The 200 yard range, ma'am. Two magazines, standing to kneeling, full auto."

"Let's get to it."

"Aye, aye ma'am."

In the background a grim looking Captain Jacques Lewis watched the performance.

36th MEU/BLT Headquarters

Gibbs walked down the hallway toward the MEU main entrance. He had just spent a fruitless couple of hours talking with witnesses who knew less about the case than he did. He was not in a good mood. It seemed his team was being stymied at every turn. He was used to being stonewalled but when it was Marines that were doing the stonewalling that made the former Gunnery Sergeant even angrier. As he approached the front doors of the building, he met Commander Sturgis Turner entering.

"Commander," Gibbs grunted as a way of acknowledgement and nodded as he passed the man. The senior NCIS agent had work to do and didn't have time to say much else.

Sturgis turned toward Gibbs. "Special Agent, could I have a word with you?"

"I'm on my way to talk to someone." Gibbs said brusquely. He didn't want to be tied up with these JAGs any longer that he had to, besides he already had Commander Coleman on his team.

"May I remind you, Special Agent," Sturgis said sternly, "this is supposed to be a joint investigation, under the aegis of the Judge Advocate General's office." When Sturgis whipped out his authoritarian voice, people usually stopped what they were doing.

Not Gibbs. But he did pause briefly. "Then c'mon, Commander."

"Where are we going?" Sturgis asked as he caught up to the NCIS Agent.

"To talk to a possible witness," he answered cryptically.

Commander Turner sighed and shook his head. This man was as bad as Harm or Mac when they got a lead.

"Okay, Colonel, take five…"

Mac sat down on the bench to catch her breath. Her hip vibrated. She reached into the lower pocket on her BDU's and pulled out her cell phone, opening it.

"Colonel MacKenzie,"

"Mac, can you talk?"

The Marine Lieutenant Colonel got up from the bench and moved away from the other soldiers.

"Where are you?"

"At BIAP. I'm getting ready to board a COD."

He could have told her it was headed to the Patrick Henry but remembering what happened the last couple of times he had flown from that ship, and he figured the less said, the better.

"Why the call?'

"If I told you I missed you, would you believe me?"

She smiled. "Hardly," she said coyly. "So, what's the news?"

"Some very damning evidence about Captain Lewis and his connection with DSD and the CIA, Mac. I'm having it sent back to Gibbs, ASAP"

Like most men, Harm sometimes did things like this; a kind of 'random act of kindness'. "Thanks Harm, but you didn't have to do that…."

"Hey, just because I'm going to be flying Tomcats for awhile doesn't mean I'm not part of the team anymore, Mac. Tell Gibbs to give Darcy an extra hard stare for me."

"Good-bye, Harm," Mac said sarcastically. He knew she was giving him one of her wry smiles.

"Bye Mac," Harm said smiling into the phone.

"So who was that, Colonel?" It was Captain Lewis. Mac fought the urge not to appear startled.

She whipped her head around in anger. She was getting tired of people sneaking up on her. "Do you always listen in on private conversations, Captain?" she snapped.

"My apologies, Colonel." He said, sounding sincere. But he really didn't mean it.

As he walked away, she wondered just how much of the conversation Jac Lewis had overheard.

"Ah the 'rocks and shoals', sir…."

The young Marine said smiling. The young Combat Engineer had been on guard duty when Gibbs and Turner found him. Now having been relieved, he was sitting on a plastic and metal lawn chair that looked really out of place when compared to his Iraqi surroundings. The lead NCIS Agent and the JAG attorney were sitting in similar lawn chairs, facing him.

The term had legal meanings if you were a military attorney, but using it in this manner gave Sturgis a hint about the man's background. "You a, Navy brat, Corporal?"

The Marine nodded. "Yes sir, Commander, my father was stationed on the _Rodger Young_."

The Bubblehead had to follow his line of thought. His Dad's a Navy man, so- "So how come…?"

The Corporal smiled again. "…how come I'm not serving on board some ship?" He finished for the Bubblehead.

It was sometimes unnerving to meet an enlisted man who was so at ease or unpretentious. "Yes." The Bubblehead said somewhat hesitantly.

"Well, sir, this is my way of getting back at my dad. He hates the Marines."

Gibbs smiled. Despite his initial impressions about this kid, he was starting to like him.

"You joined the Marines out of spite, Corporal?" Sturgis said incredulously. If the JAG attorney had thought about the idea long enough, he might have remembered that instead of becoming a chaplain, like *his* father, he had opted for the silent service.

The Corporal sensed he might have said something that upset the JAG, and that was not a good idea at any time, but especially not during the middle of a murder investigation. "At first, sir, but that quickly changed. The Corps' now my life. I wouldn't trade

it for anything…."

"Ooo-rah," Gibbs said in support of the man's decision. "Did you see anything, notice anything unusual that happened when Lieutenant Dodge was shot?"

"Just what I told Commander Rabb, sir." The Corporal answered honestly. "Uh, that is, one minute he was standing in the hatch of his AMTRAC and then, BAM, he was slumped over the side of the hatch, blood pouring out of him."

Gibbs and Commander Turner exchanged interested looks.

Gibbs pressed him to elaborate. "Did you see who shot him?"

He thought about that for a moment, as if weighing what he was going to say. When he did speak, the two military investigators were impressed by his forthright answer. "A lot of the guys thought the two gunship pilots had done it, sirs, but I didn't think so."

Gibbs thought they might have found something. "Why not, Corporal?"

The Corporal addressed the NCIS Agent, but the answer was meant for Commander Turner. "Because, sir, Lieutenant Lukens wouldn't make that kind of mistake."

Sturgis decided to see if the man had anything solid or if he was just stating a strong opinion like many others had. "Anything else besides your belief that backs up that statement, Corporal Gage?"

The Corporal leaned forward in his chair. It was evident whatever he had he believed it was of value to these men. "Yes sir, Lieutenant Dodge slumped down too quickly to have been hit by the gunship crew."

That was too bold a statement just to make in the heat of the moment. There was thought and observation and just maybe something else behind this. "What do you mean, Corporal?" Gibbs' gut was telling him something was here that had been previously overlooked.

But the Corporal quickly lanced that idea. "It's just my opinion sir, but those shots came way too quickly…the gunship crew didn't even have a chance to chamber a round in their pistols before the Lieutenant was slumping in his hatch." Or did he?

Sturgis was having a hard time swallowing what this Corporal was saying to them. "Are you an expert in small arms, Corporal?" he asked pointedly.

Again the man had an honest answer for them, but one that sustained the feeling in Gibbs' gut that there was more here to be uncovered. "No sir, but my father taught me a lot about guns. Something just didn't seem right about the fact that those nine millimeter rounds were hitting the man when no one around him had a pistol ready to fire. But like you said, I'm not an expert, so I guess my opinion doesn't mean much. Guess that's why Commander Rabb didn't have me on the witness stand."

It was still just circumstantial but a nagging feeling in Gibbs' gut told him there was something else that this kid knew. Something solid, a piece of evidence, maybe. "Did you notice anything else?"

Again the Corporal paused, as if trying to recall the battlefield at that time. When he spoke, the two investigators could tell, he was telling something he hadn't revealed before. "I saw a couple of holes made by a light fifty in the gunship…."

Gibbs gut was screaming at him now. "Are you sure about that?"

The kid nodded again. "Yes sir; I didn't think much about it at the time, but when it was brought up in court about someone using a light fifty to bring down the gunship, then those holes I saw in the Cobra made sense."

Gibbs and Sturgis exchanged glances. Although his info at the time would have just added to the ponderous list of witnesses and experts they had, now Corporal Gage was a gold mine of information for this case.

"Do you know Captain Lewis?" It seemed like an obvious question with an obvious answer, but sometimes those kind yielded the most valuable information.

"Company A's commander? Sure; everybody knows the Cap'n…" Not a gold strike, but not a bust either.

"Is he a crack shot?"

"The best sir; it's scary just how good he is." Getting closer.

"Do you remember where he was when Lieutenant Dodge was shot?"

"Let's see… I was over here with the rest of the quick reaction force/combat engineers who had been held in reserve. We had just made it to the square when the gunship was hit…."

Gibbs could see it in his eyes. Though the Corporal was sitting with them, in his mind he was back in the town square in Mirbullah on that fateful day. "…we made our way forward to the downed gunship where Lieutenant Dodge had his AMTRAC parked while he gave them protective fire…somebody, guess it was Gunny Sanchez…gave us the order to advance…we moved forward past the gunship, providing cover fire for the AMTRAC…and the Captain….the Captain….."

Sturgis sensed the man was searching for something and what he had found, he didn't like. "What is it, Corporal?"

The kid sounded shocked. "He wasn't there, sir." He gave both of them a lost, helpless look. "I just realized that in all the commotion that was going on, he wasn't there with us."

Jackpot. "Where was he, Corporal?"

The Corporal's answer didn't yield any solid evidence, but it did add to the number of fingers pointing toward Lewis and Livingston. "I don't know, sir. I honestly don't know, but he wasn't there with us."

Gibbs watched Sturgis carefully as they walked back towards the Visiting Officer Quarters. He could tell the former submariner turned attorney was deep in thought.

"Do you think he's lying?" Gibbs finally said out loud.

Sturgis looked at the NCIS Agent. "I don't think the Corporal was in this case."

"And what makes you say that?" Gibbs wanted to know if this Naval Commander had the same gut feeling he had or whether it was just educated guesswork on his part.

Sturgis thought about the question. "It was the way he responded to our questions, the movement of his eyes…."

Gibbs decided to test this statement. "You're very observant, Commander."

Sturgis let a little pride slip in. "I've always been detail oriented. Plus I've been doing some reading on how to spot when people aren't telling the truth. How about you, Special Agent, could you tell?"

Gibbs was holding all the cards, and he wasn't about to let the former Dolphin see his hand. "Yep."

Now it was the Bubblehead's turn to probe. "Okay, how?"

Gibbs gave him a wry smile. "Trade secret."

Sturgis stopped walking. "Are you screwing with me, Special Agent?"

Gibbs sensed that the JAG attorney wouldn't let this rest until he knew the answer. He could string this out for a while, but he figured Sturgis wouldn't take this well. Okay then, he'd tell him.

"He's young, Commander, probably this is the first time he's been away from home. He likes tweaking authority, but only when it's safe to do so. This wasn't the time or place for that."

Gibbs studied the Commander's face. He knew his answer had surprised the Commander. He decided to push it a little further.

"Plus, there were the little things that you saw in his face."

Sturgis chewed over that well placed barb. He knew that the former Gunnery Sergeant was baiting him, much like he had at JAG Headquarters back in April when questioning him about Harm. He decided to do what he did then, bait the agent right back.

"I've heard that your Gut also helps you with this process. Is that what your Gut was telling you, Gibbs?"

Gibbs felt his irritation growing. Sometimes lawyers made his rear end hurt. "*My gut* told me that he was a young inexperienced kid. The rest of what I know about him comes with *experience*, Commander."

He decided another dig was in order. Just to even the score. "By the way, did Lieutenant Roberts tell you he was headed to Bahrain?"

Now it was Sturgis' turn to be irritated. "No he did not. How did *you* find out?"

Gibbs knew he had the upper hand again. "My lead agent told me that Lieutenant Roberts wanted to go to the NLSO BROFF in Bahrain and talk with Lieutenant Commander Lexington."

Sturgis remembered the name from when Bud had mentioned it during the court martial. The junior JAG officer had uncovered information about the previous JAGMAN investigation, but Bud told him it didn't seem relevant to their court case.

The Bubblehead wondered if Bud wanted to revisit that evidence, and why now….

"Commander?"

Sturgis and the NCIS Agent turned to see the young Lieutenant approaching them.

"Lieutenant."

Bud quickly threw a salute. "Permission to -"

The Naval Commander returned his salute.

"Granted Lieutenant." he said before Bud Roberts could finish his sentence.

Lieutenant Roberts was perplexed by the senior officer's sudden burst of ESP. "But, sir, I haven't even told you-"

Sturgis gave Bud a gentle smile as he held up his hand. "I already know, Lieutenant. Go."

Bud didn't waste anymore time. If he was going to catch that C-130 flight to Bahrain, he'd have to leave soon. "Aye sir, and thank you sir. Oh and Agent DiNozzo wants to go with me. That is okay, isn't it, sir?"

Gibbs tried hard not to let his surprise and anger show. Tony was supposed to notify him directly – not send a messenger. "Thanks for letting me know, Lieutenant." Gibbs said without a hint as to his current emotions.

"Yes sir," Bud saluted again and then headed off in the direction of the Camp's runway.

The JAG and NCIS man watched as Bud Roberts stumped his way toward the airfield.

"Very good Commander, a couple of more years and you'll be as good as me…." Gibbs said without looking at Sturgis.

1158 Zulu

NCIS Headquarters

Washington Navy Yard

Despite getting little sleep last night , Abby was stoked. Could be because of that king- sized Caf-Pow! she had bought on her way in.

After she turned on the lights, she looked around her lab and let out a deep sigh of satisfaction.

Abby was in heaven. Or close to it. Her pictures, her electron microscope, her DNA analyzer, all of it made this job her dream job. She turned on her workstation and put CD from a group called Numeriklab in her CD player.

The song had a catchy beat and the music spoke to her. In the middle of a dancing turn, she slammed into…NCIS Probationary Agent Tim McGee

She squealed and gave Tim a bear hug. "Oh Tim, it's so good to see you!"

Tim was clearly unnerved by this reception. They had only been on one date and she hadn't even seemed to be that interested in him. "It's um, good to see you too, uh, Abby…."

"Timmy?" She said in a disapproving voice, "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing's wrong, Abby…" He was as transparent as glass. There was something wrong.

"McGee, don't tell me you aren't glad to see me?" Her voice was tinged with hurt.

"Of course I am," he said softly, touching her shoulder.

The Goth girl cupped his face with her hands. "Look me in the eye and say that, Timmy."

Tim sighed and pulled away from her. "Abby, I'm just up here because Gibbs and the rest of the team are in Iraq. I'm the understudy, the second string 'B' team. When they get back, it's back to Norfolk for me. I'm still on probation, you know."

She walked over to where he was standing. Now it was her turn to put her hand on his shoulder. "I know, I know, but I thought you were doing so well, I mean, you were so good with Chris on that bust the other day….

He turned to her and gave her a shy smile. "Thanks Abby. But it's not enough. Gibbs will send me back. I need an edge of some sort…."

"Now you listen to me, Timothy McGee," she said sternly. "You're doing good work here, Gibbs will see that and keep you here. You just wait and see."

"I wish I could be as positive as you are, Abby." Tim said morosely, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Think positively, Tim." She grabbed his hands out of his pockets and held them as she gave him a big smile. "Repeat after me: it will happen, it will happen, it will happen."

He felt the warmth rush from her hands to his. He never got tired of looking at her…or her tattoos or 'tats' as they were often called. "It will happen…" he said confidently.

1831 Local

NLSO BROFF

Bahrain

Lieutenant Commander T.[iffany] Lexington was sitting in her office wading through reports. She hated the name Tiffany; it made her sound like an air-head. It was hard to present the image of a stern, no-nonsense CO with a name like 'Tiffany'. And with three new SJAG junior officers to break in, there was a lot for them to learn and she wanted their undivided attention…

Suddenly her intercom buzzed.

She stabbed her intercom button. "Yes, Petty Officer?"

The tinny voice crackled. "I have two gentlemen out here to see you, ma'am."

The Commander sighed. (One more little detour to make this day last a bit longer,) she thought. She stabbed the button again. "I told you I didn't want to be disturbed, Petty Officer."

"Yes ma'am, I know, but they said it was urgent. One of them is from the Judge Advocate General's Office in Washington and the other is from NCIS, Washington."

Tiffany sighed again rolling her eyes in exasperation. (Great, just peachy; so much for catching up the paperwork on my desk….) "Send them in."

"Aye ma'am."

The door opened and Bud Roberts and Anthony DiNozzo made their way inside.

Bud spoke up first. "Commander, Lieutenant Bud Roberts, JAG Corps; and this is-"

"Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo," Tony said holding out his badge and ID before Bud could finish, "NCIS, Washington Office."

Bud immediately wondered if bringing this glib, brash NCIS Agent along with him was such a good idea. Up to now, his experiences with NCIS Agents hadn't been pleasant ones.

Commander Lexington flicked her eyes up at them. "As you were. Yes Lieutenant, I remember you, what can I do for you…and Agent DiNozzo?" She didn't offer either man a seat.

Bud and Tony exchanged surprised glances. They hadn't expected this kind of reception. "Uh, well, ma'am, we need to ask you again about the JAGMAN team you sent to Mirbullah…."

Lexington's mouth became a thin hard line as she listened to Bud. Tony could tell she was close to grinding her teeth with her jaw so taut.

"What about them, Lieutenant? We've been over this ground already…." She started looking through her papers again, ignoring the two men.

Bud and Tony briefly exchanged unspoken comments. Bud: What do I do now? Tony: Ask her about Colonel Livingston. Go on, ask her! So he did.

"Ma'am, did any of your people…Captain Branch, Lieutenant Burns, Lieutenant Seaforth, …did any of them mention working with or talking to a Colonel Livingston?

Commander Lexington stopped reading and looked up from her papers. "Who?"

"Colonel Livingston, ma'am, Colonel Darcy Livingston…."

Her voice betrayed more curiosity than anger.

"The head of the Task Force Makin's Force Recon Detachment? They might have, Lieutenant, they had to talk with everyone who might have been involved with that clearing operation. Why are you asking me this?"

Tony quickly decided that if they were going to get anywhere with this gorgeous but reticent JAG officer, he was going to have to help the bumbling Lieutenant. "How about working with or talking to Captain Jacques Lewis, Commander?"

She held up her hand. "Lieutenant, Agent DiNozzo; as you can see, I'm buried under a mountain of paperwork while I try and break in three new junior officers." She made a grand sweeping gesture with her hand at the stacks of paper on her desk "Now normally I'm a very understanding person, but you can probably guess right now, I'm short on understanding. So do you two want to stop dancing around the bush and get to the point and tell me why you're asking these questions?"

Tony nodded his head and smiled as he spoke up first. "It's part of an on-going murder investigation, Commander."

"You mean one in addition to Lieutenant Dodges' murder?" her voice was incredulous. Why hadn't she been informed? Was Admiral Chegwidden keeping her out of the loop on purpose?

Tony could tell this comment had unnerved her. He decided to push her buttons a little more. Maybe she knew more about this than she was letting on. "Yeah, Commander, you might have heard there have been several others that have occurred in and around Mirbullah recently…."

"And they all have a possible tie-in with the terrorist attack on JAG Headquarters, ma'am." Bud added in a respectful but stern voice. Maybe having Tony DiNozzo here with him helped him find his courage.

Lieutenant Commander Lexington sighed heavily and was quiet for a long moment. Then she took a key out of her pocket and unlocked a drawer on her desk. "If you're certain about that connection, then you two need to see these…."

She pulled open the drawer and pulled out two sealed folders.

She looked up at the two investigators. "Are you two sure about this? That what happened to my investigators might have a connection to the terrorist attack?" was all she said.

"And the deaths of Lieutenant Dodge and several others, Commander," Tony added just to make her feel a little more ill at ease. (Just what is she going to show us?) Tony loved it when he uncovered something like this….

She nodded in response to his answer, and then began to strip off the tape that sealed the folders. Bud's eyes widened.

"I sealed these in response to a request from the SecNav when all this began…."

She motioned for the two men to come around to her side of the desk. Bud stood to her left and Tony to her right. Both leaned over and looked at the opened files.

"In my seventeen years as a JAG officer, I'd never seen anything like this in a report. It was like hieroglyphics. There you have his official report and in the margin these, well, hen scratch marks and this extra wide margin at the bottom of the page. I figured Captain Branch had lost his mind…."

Now it obvious why LCDR Lexington wasn't exactly thrilled about having this conversation. Somewhere along the way, the Bahrain BROFF capped her career at Lieutenant Commander. She had been hurt once career-wise and probably didn't want to stick her neck out again.

Bud looked at the marks intently. Tony was impressed. Apparently the Lieutenant saw something important in those scratch marks.

"What do you see, Lieutenant?"

"I'm not sure; Ma'am, can I borrow your pencil?"

Lexington was mystified. "Uh, sure, here…."

Bud began to assemble a chart on the lower part of the page. True, there was a lot more room at the bottom of the report's page then there should have been. A quick check of the entire report confirmed that had been true with each page of this report. Bud scanned the first page again and began to see a pattern. What sounded like a somewhat stilted, slightly odd JAGMAN report was turning into something else.

"It- It's a code." he said more to himself. He was intrigued by its level of sophistication.

"A code?" Tony was momentarily taken aback.

"What kind of code?" added the Commander. Her tone was insistent.

Bud was now in his element. "Well, ma'am, if you look at the first word in this paragraph, you can see the each word was chosen because they helped form a different word. When I take the first letter from each of the words in the first paragraph and cross reference them with hidden words in the rest of the paragraph and combine it with the calculations he's given off to the side, you get this… M-a-r-c-h, uh, 31, I, s-a-w, um, oh wow….!"

Bud gave the piece of paper to Commander Lexington, and then returned to his de-ciphering.

Commander Lexington was perplexed. To her this was just more gibberish. "Just what is this you're handing me, Lieutenant?"

Bud looked up from what he was reading. "Ma'am, did Captain Branch have an affinity for puzzles?

Lexington growled her response. "An affinity? Try obsession. He was always doing word jumbles, crossword puzzles, mazes of all kinds, if there was an unsolved word puzzle around, he would be working on it. Sometimes to the detriment of his official duties. I once asked him if he'd rather be a crypto officer…."

"Take a good look, ma'am." Bud said soberly.

"Oh my God…." Lexington whispered with anguish.

Tony picked up on what Bud had uncovered. It reminded him of that movie he'd seen last week, what was it called? Oh well, it would come back to him "Commander, did he try to tell you anything about his report?"

"Almost every day, Special Agent." Lexington said resignedly. Bud could tell she now realized she'd made a mistake with her JAGs. A terribly tragic mistake that could cost her career. "I-I stopped visiting the stockade, his rambling…it just…just didn't make any sense. I couldn't take it anymore…."

"This is like something out of an old spy movie," Tony said in an impressed voice still admiring Bud's work. It was unusual for him to ignore a woman, any woman, in distress, but he was absolutely impressed with this junior JAG officer. Whom up till now, he had considered…somewhat nebbish.

That opinion was quickly changing.

"Well, I'll be damned…." Lexington said aloud as Bud continued to work the graph. The more text was de-ciphered, the more they learned about what had really happened to the original JAGMAN team.

It fit perfectly with Commander Rabb's and Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie's theories about Darcy Livingston and Jacques Lewis. Bud and Tony exchanged grim looks. Bud went back to deciphering Burns' notes.

"Agent DiNozzo, look at this…." Bud handed him several papers with words circled. Some were diagonal, some were vertical, some were horizontal, and some were spelled backwards.

Tony took the papers in hand. "It looks like a one of those word puzzles…you know, um, word find?"

Bud knew he meant 'Find-A-Word' but the NCIS Agent had the right idea.

"Exactly; match these words with the coded numbers and -"

"Viola', the hidden report comes out…good job, Lieutenant…Bud."

Bud Roberts would have smiled, but the current situation wouldn't allow it. "Thank you…Tony."

All three looked at Branches' hidden report as discovered by Bud. When they reached the concluding paragraph, they all reacted to the final words with stunned horror.

Tony was the first to recover. He looked over at the Branch's Officer-in-Charge. "We need to see Captain Branch right away, Commander!" he said with an air of urgency.

Commander Lexington didn't need any further prodding. She stabbed her intercom button. "Petty Officer, we need a Hum-vee out front, ASAP!

"Aye ma'am!"

1831 Local

Baghdad International Airport [BIAP]

Baghdad, Iraq

Faith Coleman hated BDUs.

They weren't as crisp as her regular uniform and they had an annoying habit of being dirt magnets – even worse than summer whites, if that was possible.

The boonie hat she wore also ruined her perfectly coiffured hair. She would never be like Colonel MacKenzie or the others who could just ram their hair under these covers and not worry about it.

She was still recovering from her bumpy and dusty helo flight from Mirbullah. She desperately wanted to find a ladies room and clean herself up, but that might take too much time.

At least her briefcase was still intact. She walked towards the terminal exit. Hopefully, her ride would soon be here and she could get this job over with….

"Commander Coleman?" A young Shore Patrolman was standing by a ratty looking Hum-vee, well, it was ratty looking to her. He threw her a hasty salute.

"Yes Corporal?"

"I've been instructed to bring you to Marine Corps HQ, ma'am. Special Agent Phillips is waiting to speak with you."

Faith fought the urge to say 'in that?'. The two ton truck looked as if it had seen better days.

"Then let's go, Corporal," she said burying that thought as she gingerly opened her door and got in.

The SP gave her a friendly smile as she settled in the seat next to him. "Don't let her looks fool you, ma'am, she's still got a lot of life left in her. She's just a little beat up from the daily wear and tear…."

('Wear and tear?') This thing looked like it was a refugee from a demolition derby.

Thankfully, the HMMWV started right up, the engine actually seeming to purr. The Corporal put her into gear and eased her out into the airport terminal traffic.

"Nightingale is on the move…." Gibbs was listening through his headset to Director Morrow back at the Multiple Threat Assessment Center (MTAC). Sturgis pulled out into airport traffic behind a three-quarter ton truck and a beat-up Volvo station wagon, a couple of vehicles in back of the SP's HMMWV.

"Solid copy Bravo two," Morrow intoned as he watched the airport security video of Faith's HMMWV followed at a respectful distance by Gibbs and Sturgis. "Remain in Overwatch. Don't let her out of your sight. We don't know who in Agent Phillips' unit may also be in on this."

"I copy Bravo one, we're in position, two vehicles back, maintaining overwatch…."

Sturgis struggled to maintain his position in the early evening Baghdad traffic. Several blue and white Iraqi police cars passed them. The officers gave them momentary scrutiny until they were distracted by traffic violator of one sort or another. A couple of Army trucks passed them as well. The former Dolphin was not trying to win any race or trying to get back to his base. His goal was to stick as close to Faith as possible without it becoming obvious that they were following her.

He had never really thanked her for her defense of Harm after he was accused of murdering Lieutenant Singer, now he just hoped he wasn't following her to her funeral.

Faith cleared her throat. "How much further, Corporal?"

"We're almost there, ma'am," slowing down to make a left turn, "better get your identification out now, the guards here get really jumpy after dark…"

1921 Local

USS Patrick Henry

Persian Gulf

Nicole Hollands, aka 'Supergirl' stood at the rail on Vulture's Row, watching Tomcats and Superhornets land and take off. The flight surgeon had told her she needed rest, or he'd ground her. He didn't specify where she had to do it.

"I thought I'd find you up here."

Nicole turned to see her friend and RIO, Sandy 'Dust Storm' Ribkins, coming through the door to settle down next to her.

"You're supposed to be relaxing, taking it easy, doctor's orders." Sandy gave her friend a wry grin.

"I think you're supposed to be doing the same thing." Nicole said knowing neither one of them would.

"My mistake, I made a wrong turn down below, you know how confusing these big boats are to me."

Nicole laughed. That comment was far from the truth. Sandy probably had a mixture of jet fuel and sea water running through her veins.

"What's your excuse?"

"Insomnia."

Another Tomcat slammed onto the deck and caught the second wire, bucking to stop.

"Yep, this will take care of that problem…" her friend said sarcastically.

"Meaning, Lieutenant?" Nicole said trying to sound serious.

"Meaning the avgas fumes will knock you out and I'll have to drag your sorry butt down to your rack, ma'am."

Nicole chuckled as she looked back at Patrick Henry's deck. "You're lucky I like you, Dust Storm, otherwise I might think you were being insubordinate."

"Me, insubordinate, Supergirl? Never."

Sandy's tongue could cut anyone to ribbons that got in her way, or on her bad side.

"Hey, here comes the COD…."

Nicole looked out to sea behind them and saw the carrier's Grumman Greyhound C-2 winging its way toward the carrier on its final approach.

"I sure hope these Reservists aren't too rusty." Nicole said as the plane edged closer to the carrier's deck. "The old man will have a fit if any of our birds end up in the drink because of them."

"So is that them?" asked Sandy, as she leaned on the rail to get a better look at the incoming COD.

"Yep," said Nicole tersely, "I just wanted to see what kind of prospects we have as replacements."

They watched as the C-2 touched down on the carrier deck and began taxiing out of the flight line.

The plane feathered its left prop and circled around to face the two women. It took the plane several moments to feather the right prop and begin deplaning its passengers.

"Well, here they come," Sandy said as the replacement pilots came out of the open door and onto the flight deck.

They watched as several ordinary looking men and women got off the plane. Sandy began categorizing the men as they stepped off the plane.

"Boring…dull…boring…hey, he's not too bad…."

Then Sandy caught the arm of her friend.

"Don't look now Argosian, but it looks like the call for pilots netted a jolly green giant."

Nicole's eyes flared in surprise as the tall Naval Commander stood on the deck looking around. It was obvious that the man was enraptured with what he was seeing. Nicole just hoped that he wasn't too starry eyed to fly. (Probably his first time aboard a carrier,) she thought.

"Wow, he's a big one," was all Nicole could say.

"Wonder how he crams himself into a Tomcat cockpit?" mused Sandy.

-TBC…


	56. Chapter 55

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 55

A/N1: Disclaimers and other vital information can be found in story archive for …FMS which can be found in the chapter story notes.

A/N2: **~~** indicates flashback or dream sequence ( ) indicates the thoughts of a person. *~* indicates a scene shift not otherwise indicated by a JAG time stamp. ~~~ indicates a dream sequence.

0232 Local

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

AJ yawned. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

He'd thought that since he wasn't getting much sleep at home, he'd just stay late and catch up on his paperwork. There were reports that were coming due and they didn't care that his command up until a few days ago had been a bullet-riddled wreck.

"…Time and tide wait for no man…" he said to himself chuckling. Of course, all of the people who were requesting these reports would certainly make allowances considering what had happened this past week, but the Navy/Marine JAG was not one to make excuses.

He had a computer, he had paper, he had a printer. He had internet access. There was no reason in the world that he shouldn't be able to get these reports done….

Except that it going on two in the morning. And he hadn't slept well in days…Dammit! He sorely missed his Chief of Staff, who would have expertly prepped these reports for his approval. It wasn't any sort of secret romantic longing for Mac; he really did need a Chief of Staff who could be here when he needed her. Maybe having one of his top troubleshooting lawyers do this job was too much of stretch….

(But she does so well…) Well, there is that, he grumped to himself, but I need someone here to help me with this, not someone a half a world away. Still, no Chief of Staff or not, the reports need to be done, and soon. (So just suck it up and keep going….)he told himself. (That's an order, SEAL!)

He sighed heavily as he took off his glasses and laid them on the desk pad while he rubbed his exhausted eyes, willing them to keep going.

Then his phone rang.

Who in the blue blazes would be calling his office at this hour? He thought irrationally just for a moment, till his brain reminded him it was still early evening in Baghdad and something might be going on that needed his attention.

He picked up the phone receiver and punched the lit button.

"Admiral Chegwidden."

"Sorry to disturb you, sir," It was the night duty desk officer, Sergeant Hanson.

"You're not disturbing anything at the moment, Sergeant. What's the problem?"

"I have Lieutenant Roberts on line two, sir. He asked to speak with you."

AJ sat up in his chair. He hoped Bud had some good news, but considering the hour, it might just as easily be bad news.

"Put him through." he said without preamble.

"Aye sir."

The phone line clicked for a moment and then the Admiral heard the background noise you sometimes get on an overseas call.

"Admiral?"

"Good evening, Lieutenant."

"Good morning, sir."

"I take it this is not a social call, Lieutenant,"

"No sir, though I wish it was."

The frankness of Bud Roberts' statement and tone surprised him.

Before the Admiral could ask him what he meant, Bud continued.

"I apologize for the frankness, sir. The reason I'm calling is to tell you that Captain Branch, Lieutenant Burns, and Lieutenant Seaforth have been released into Lieutenant Commander Lexington's custody."

AJ shot up out of his chair. "Why Lieutenant?"

"Captain Branch's report sir. What they have to say ties directly to a plea bargain agreement, sir. They wanted to be moved from their cells temporarily while they negotiate with Commander Lexington. They have a very strong case, Admiral."

AJ didn't know what to say.

Bud was telling him that the JAGMAN report from Captain Branch held more information than it appeared to on the surface. Especially if Commander Lexington was willing take personal charge of them while they 'negotiate'. Luckily he picked up on the Lieutenant's cues or their mole would know even more than they did. All of this – the attack on JAG HQ, Secord's confession, Bud's discovery – all of it, had to be tied to that renegade Force Recon CO. So just what had Bud discovered? Trumped up charges? Coercion?

"Admiral?"

AJ focused on the matter at hand. He could play 'what if' later. "Where are they now, Lieutenant?"

"They're in the Brig Commander's office, sir. Agent DiNozzo is with them."

(Good job, Gibbs, I knew I could count on you wanting your men everywhere mine are ….)

So they're not in danger at the moment, the JAG thought. But once word got back to that wayward Force Recon CO, their life expectancies could be shortened considerably.

"Lieutenant, listen to me carefully; stay with the Commander and Agent DiNozzo at all times. You're not to buy into their plea-bargaining. Do you read me?"

"Y-Yes sir. I understand."

"I've already said enough on the matter. With Agent DiNozzo in attendance, it will show we're not trying to run any sort of mustang operation. NCIS oversight is crucial."

"Understood Admiral."

Great. With Harm recalled to active pilot duty, Mac undercover, Sturgis in Baghdad and now Bud in Bahrain, his folks were stretched dangerously thin. All it would take would be one mistake, one misstep and Darcy Livingston would be able to add four more JAGs and maybe a few NCIS agents to her scorecard.

"As soon as you get what you need from Lexington's people, you and Agent DiNozzo get back to Mirbullah."

"Aye sir."

"And by the way, Lieutenant, good job."

"Thank you sir, but it was a team effort, JAGC, NCIS, and NLSO BROFF. Commander Lexington has been most helpful sir."

"Understood Bud. Let me speak with her."

The line clicked as AJ figured the phone was being passed from Bud to the NLSO BROFF.

"Sir I-"

"Before you say anything, Commander, listen very carefully to me. You will listen completely and with the utmost concern to whatever deals these officers have for you. Understood?"

"Uh, y- yes sir." she said hesitantly.

"When they have finished, you are to escort them back to their cells, do you understand me, Commander?"

"Absolutely sir." Good. She was on board with whatever plan Bud and Agent DiNozzo had cooked up.

Up on the bridge of USS Patrick Henry, Captain Tobias Ingles observed the COD pull off the flight line and disgorge its human cargo. (Well, well, well; if it isn't Harmon Rabb, Jr.….)

Commander Alfred Aldridge, the Strike Group's Judge Advocate, made his way to the Captain's chair and saluted the CO. Ingles, keeping his eyes on the aviator/lawyer, returned the salute.

"Evening sir,"

Ingles studied the men getting off the COD for a bit longer before turning and acknowledging the presence of his JAG Corps officer. "Evening Commander, you're just in time…."

"In time for what, sir?"

Tobias looked away from Aldridge to the Oriskany's Expeditionary Strike Group's Staff Judge Advocate (SJA) who had just made her way to the Bridge.

He gave the dark auburn haired SJA a sardonic smirk. "In time to see a celebrity of sorts, Captain."

The Strike Group Judge Advocate was the first to spot him. "Commander Rabb?"

"In the flesh, Commander."

Alfred couldn't help feeling a little ill at ease at seeing Harmon Rabb stepping off the Grumman Greyhound. The last time they had met at JAG Headquarters, Commander Aldridge had felt out of his league. His work with Rabb had enabled him to work at JAGC while Patrick Henry was in port at Norfolk for routine maintenance.

It had been both an awe inspiring and humbling experience. It was during that tour that Lieutenant Commander Aldridge learned he wasn't ready to be a JAG Corps troubleshooter. He really felt like he had failed to live up to Commander Rabb's expectations of him. After all, it was Commander Rabb who had invited him to fill a temporary position at JAG Headquarters.

The Naval Commander hadn't said anything to him about his performance, but then he really didn't have to. Alfred knew that he'd better stick with being a Staff Judge Advocate.

As Alfred stood looking down at the replacement pilots being directed off the flight line, he didn't notice the ESG-JAG glimpsing down at the desk as well.

"So why is he here?" Her voice startled Aldridge. He turned to her. Sometimes she was like a cat, being able to sneak up beside someone in that manner.

"The Commander's here to fly planes, Captain. Specifically my planes. He's not going to stick his nose in your affairs." Then a sly smile crossed the carrier commander's face. "Well, not unless you two do something that will cause him to want to stick his nose in, that is."

Both JAGs snapped to attention. "Understood sir." they echoed.

Captain Ingles was making an observation. And in this case, the CO's observation was as good as an order.

All three watched as Harmon Rabb made his way across the weather deck and toward the ladders that would head to the Bridge.

"Sir, if I may, who is Commander Rabb replacing?"

"You may, Commander. Rabb is replacing Commander Graffington as squadron leader. The Commander succumbed to the unfortunate effects of the flu this afternoon."

"What about 'Undertaker' sir?" added Lawboss. "I thought he was second in command…."

"He was, Captain, until he succumbed to the flu as well."

Ingles looked out at the darkening sea. "We're down below 60% in terms of pilots who can fly right now." He turned back and faced the JAGs "We have to plug people in where they are needed."

"Understood sir." they echoed again.

"I thought so," Ingles said smiling.

As the Patrick Henry's CO turned back to out the window again, Lawboss leaned in close to Alfred's ear. "My fun meter's pegged, I'm going below…."

Ingles turned back to the JAGs. "Stick around, Captain, you're going to enjoy this…."

Lawboss straightened up as if someone had struck her with a cattle prod. "Aye sir…"

2008 Local

BOQ/VOQ

Camp Chesty Puller

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Stuart Dunston didn't think much of these pre-fabricated housing units. Scuttlebutt going around the camp was that if the 3-2 Marines stayed here much longer, the Corps was going to replace all the temporary buildings with containerized housing units, like those being brought into Baghdad.

He hoped he wouldn't be here that long.

Stuart reflected on past few days' events. After the attack on Welles building, aka, JAG Headquarters, he and his cameraman Sully had traveled all over this region getting local reaction to the attack. It was surprising to him how many Iraqis – not just those in positions of power – were angry and incensed something like this could happen. More than once the terrorists were referred to as 'cowards' or 'dogs'. Some of the braver ones even smacked shoes on pictures depicting 'Muslim volunteers' working with Saddam's soldiers during the closing days of the Coalition invasion. Hitting a likeness with a shoe is considered the ultimate form of insult as a shoe/foot is considered to be the dirtiest part of a person.

Still, as was always the case in Iraq, it all depended on who you talked with. There were a few they met who openly spoke of joining Osama bin Laden's cause and were glad that terrorists had attacked the American military facility.

Surprisingly, very few if any of the Marines spoke about revenge or blood lust. All interviewed agreed that they should find out first who perpetrated the act and then respond 'appropriately'. Even the Naval personnel attached to the unit felt the same way.

To do otherwise, they said, would only antagonize the locals.

Then the Court Martial of the Cobra gunship crew came to a surprise ending, and just like Rabb had promised, Stuart received exclusive reporting rights for the story. Interviews in the aftermath of Secord's public meltdown ranged from shock to disgust. Many could not believe a Marine would kill someone in cold blood, much less a brother Marine. A few stated that Gitmo (military slang for Guantanamo Bay) was too good for the likes of him.

It was great stuff. Added to the exclusive interviews with the accused Cobra crew, the prosecuting and defending attorneys, and the Cobra crew's CO, they had a story which would decimate the lead on every other network and cable news station.

Stuart figured after this kind of exclusive he would be able to write his own ticket.

He imagined at any moment he'd get a call from Chuck DePalma and be told to 'pack your gear, you're headed to Afghanistan' or some other hotbed in the Global War on Terror. It could even earn him that coveted anchor job he had been gunning for since he arrived at ZNN.

Yeah, if he got that job, that would show that blowhard, Tom Nevens, the current afternoon anchor….

As he tried to settle deeper into his cot/bed and relax, his cell phone chirped. He pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it open.

"Dunston…"

"Stuart?" It was an overseas call. The feedback in the line suddenly cleared. "Stuart, can you hear me now?"

Stuart broke into a broad smile. "Hey Chuck, what a pleasant surprise." He remembered that when you smile, you sound cheery on the phone.

As usual, the Executive Producer for ZNN wasn't buying it. "Always the charmer, aren't you, Stuart?"

"Pays to be charming in my business. What can I do for you, 'Boss'?" He added the 'boss' because it was a private joke between them that went back to when Dunston was fresh out of journalism school. Chuck DePalma had been his mentor at ZNN back then.

"I'm sending someone out there to you…."

Stuart sat up on his cot. "You're sending me someone?" he repeated.

"Yeah. He's a new guy we hired away from CBS."

"What's his name?"

Chuck sounded like he was rifling through a pile of papers on his desk. "Holliman, yeah, Brad Holliman."

"Why are you sending him here?"

"He was their top Middle East correspondent. Wanted to find a replacement for you."

"A replacement?" Stuart couldn't believe it. After all his hard work, he was being reassigned?

Chuck laughed at Stuart's nervousness. It was good to keep subordinates on their toes. "Don't tell me after your exclusive you didn't figure on me moving you to that anchor spot you've salivated after for so long."

Stuart still couldn't believe it. "He's replacing me out here?" And why him?

Chuck's voice turned sarcastic. "What's the matter, you don't want the anchor job? You'd rather be slaving away in the dust and rocks of Iraqistan?"

Stuart hurriedly tried to head off that line of thought. "No, Chuck, it's not that…"

"Well, what is it?" Chuck seemed to be growing annoyed with Stuart's reluctance to accept this plum job.

"I've built a pretty good reputation with the military here, Chuck."

That drew a long pause from the ZNN Executive Producer. "Meaning?"

"I don't want him blowing it with sloppy reporting."

"Sloppy reporting?" Chuck obviously didn't believe Stuart's accusation.

So the senior ZNN reporter tried to explain. "Chuck, in his last report he described dozens of tanks descending on that Palestinian village…." He hoped Chuck would pick up on what he was saying.

"So?" He didn't.

Stuart spelled it out for him. "They were personnel carriers!"

If he expected the Executive Producer to understand now, he didn't get his wish. Instead, he got more sarcasm. "Oh I get it, you've been out there so long that you've become an expert on military vehicles…."

Now Stuart was getting annoyed. "Chuck, you know what I'm talking about. Yeah, it's a little thing, but it adds up. Every time we get it wrong, the military folks place a little less trust in us…we lose a little credibility."

Chuck DePalma didn't see this as any major roadblock. "Then you'll just have to teach him to 'talk the talk'."

"And there's also my relationship with Rabb," he added.

"You two going steady now?"

"You know what I mean."

"Teach him to respect that as well. I'm counting on you Stuart. I want you on that anchor desk by the end of the month."

Stuart gave in. Maybe this would work. He'd need a few days to get ready for this hotshot. But that was all right. He probably wouldn't be here for another week or so. "Okay, okay. So when does he get here, next week?"

"He should be arriving in Mirbullah sometime tomorrow morning."

2030 Local

NCIS Field Headquarters/Criminal Investigative Division

Green Zone - Baghdad, Iraq

Faith walked the long corridor past rows of empty workstations down to the Regional Investigative Coordinator's office.

Her driver had called it the 'jewel in Emerald City'. She wondered if the driver knew this jewel was flawed. He hadn't come into the building with her. Said he had some other business to take of.

She hoped that didn't mean he was following her movements with a sniper scope.

She reached the end of the hallway and turned right as she had been instructed to do. She thought her footfalls sounded unusually loud in this hallway. At the far end was an open door with a desk/workstation to the right side of the entrance.

Faith took a deep breath and approached the Petty Officer Shore Patrolman occupying the desk.

The 2nd Class Master-at-Arms, who had been reading a stapled set of papers, stood up as soon as she came into his field of vision.

She pulled out her ID badge for him to see. "Lieutenant Commander Faith Coleman, JAG Corps. I'm here to see Special Agent in Charge, Sedrick Phillips?"

"Yes ma'am, he's been expecting you." He moved an open book toward her. "If you'll just sign in right here, ma'am."

Faith ignored his proffered pen and took a pen out her BDU tunic, clicked it and scribbled her name with a flourish. Then clicked it again and reinserted it into her pocket.

He gave her a momentary odd look which quickly vanished. After all, she was a Lieutenant Commander and he was only a Petty Officer. If she didn't want to use his pen, that was her prerogative.

"This way, ma'am."

" 'This way ma'am….'" Gibbs and Sturgis heard through their headsets. This was followed by sounds of movement as they made their way through the room and they guessed towards Phillips' office.

Back at MTAC, Tom Morrow had a split screen that he was watching intently. On one side was the Gibbs' HMMWV sitting silently in the building parking lot. The other half of the screen was devoted to a moving picture view of the room Faith was being lead through.

"We have a visual on Nightingale, Bravo Two," Morrow intoned as he focused his gaze intently on the screen.

"Copy that, Bravo One," Gibbs replied.

Sturgis in the meantime had dug out a pair of night vision goggles and was entranced by the eerie green and white view of the building and Faith's image as she passed a couple of windows.

" 'Sir, Commander Coleman, from JAG Corps Headquarters….'" the SP's disembodied voice announced.

As Coleman and Sedrick Phillips exchanged pleasantries, the passenger door behind Gibbs opened and a burly African-American Marine slid in the back seat and shut the door.

Sturgis fought the urge to look back at the man. Because Gibbs hadn't moved, he had to assume the senior NCIS Agent knew this Marine.

Gibbs' face broke into a wry grin "Glad you could join us, Master Sergeant," he said without looking back

The big man smiled back. "Pleasure to serve with you again, Gunny,"

"Commander Rabb, reporting as ordered, sir." Harm threw a sharp salute.

"As you were, Commander," The Patrick Henry CO replied shaking his hand, "It's good to have you here."

"It's good to be here, sir."

"You remember my JAG, Commander Aldridge?"

Harm reached out and exchanged a handshake with the Patrick Henry Strike Group JAG, noting the change in his shoulder boards. "Congratulations on your promotion, Commander."

"Thank you, sir."

Harm gave Alfred Aldridge a friendly smile. "You don't have sir me now, we're of equal rank."

"Sorry; force of habit, s- uh, Commander."

Lawboss suppressed a grin as she stuck out her hand. "Captain Seranovich, Oriskany SJAG. I've heard a lot about you."

Harm gave her a chagrined look. "All good, I hope."

"Oh yes sir," she said quickly. A little too quickly.

That comment had the four sharing uncomfortable looks until Ingles decided to mercifully end the embarrassing silence by clearing his throat and changing the subject.

"Well, um, Commander, we're putting you to work as soon as you finish your check-in with the flight surgeon."

Harm was momentarily taken aback. "The flight surgeon, sir?"

"Commander, you don't intend to dump anymore of my Tomcats in the drink, do you?"

"No sir." The aviator/lawyer said emphatically, somewhat surprised by the comment. He'd thought they were past this.

"That's good to hear, because we have very few we can spare. You've heard about the influenza ravaging the fleet. That's why you're out here in the first place." It was obvious that Captain Tobias Ingles was trying to make a point.

That pulled Harm up short. "Ah, yes sir." he said stoically.

"We can't have you out there sick, flying my planes, Commander. Report to the flight surgeon."

Harm snapped to attention. "Aye, aye, sir."

2048 Hours Local

NCIS Headquarters Office/CID

Regional Investigative Coordinator, Sedrick Phillips motioned to a chair in front of his desk. "Commander, please take a seat."

Faith looked at the dirty chair and decided since she was wearing BDU's anyway, a little more dirt wouldn't matter at this point. Still, she wanted to at least try to brush it off before she sat down. But she didn't want to appear to look odd. She decided to resist the urge to clean it off - this time.

"Thank you Special Agent." She politely took a seat.

Sedrick gave her friendly smile. "What can I do for Admiral Chegwidden's office?"

"We're following up on leads to the terrorist attack on the JAG Corps' Headquarters."

"Oh?" Sedrick said trying to sound casual. Faith could tell though that he was surprised by her saying 'we're'.

"Yes." Was her one word answer to his comment.

"You're in charge of the investigation?" he ventured.

Faith shifted in her chair. "Actually Special Agent Gibbs is in charge of the investigation, but we report to Admiral Chegwidden."

"I see," he said blandly, however, beads of sweat had started to appear on his forehead. "Well then, what do you need from me?"

She noted he was even more unnerved by this information. After all what would the top NCIS Major Case Response Team from Washington be doing in Iraq? Maybe it had to do with the terrorist attack, but then again maybe it had to do with something else. Either way, Special Agent Phillips decided to act nonchalant about her comments.

Faith reached down and pulled her briefcase across her lap. Snapping it open, she removed a folder and closed the case, laying the open folder on top. "Just a couple of minor things, Special Agent. Private Krivstad's body was found in a stream north of Mirbullah."

Sedrick appeared to visibly relax. He leaned back a little in his chair. "By Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr. as I recall…."

Faith didn't like his smug attitude or his insinuation. "Yes; well, what's troubling us is what you said in your official report."

The tenseness returned to the Regional Investigative Coordinator's body. "Come again?" he blurted out.

Faith looked at her folder and then at him. "You stated that PFC Leonard Krivstad died as a result of drowning and that the injuries he received were the result of his having been tossed into the creek."

"Sure, that's the way it looked." he said dismissively.

"The official autopsy report indicates that PFC Krivstad had been severely beaten, strangled and a karate chop administered to his larynx."

"Whose report?"

-TBC…


	57. Chapter 56

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 56

A/N1: Disclaimers and other vital information can be found in story archive for …FMS which can be found in the chapter story notes.

A/N2: **~~** indicates flashback or dream sequence ( ) indicates the thoughts of a person. *~* indicates a scene shift not otherwise indicated by a JAG time stamp. ~~~ indicates a dream sequence.

"Well, certainly not the one made by the MEU's Chief Surgeon. This came from the one made by NCIS Medical Examiner Doctor Donald Mallard and Naval Forensic Pathologist Commander Teresa Coulter. Would you like to see it for yourself?" She held out the folder to him.

"Uh, yeah, sure…." He reached over the desk and gingerly took the open folder into his hands. "You mean the MEU Doc was lying?"

She couldn't believe his gall. "And you missed some vital evidence, Special Agent."

"Yeah, I sure did at that…." he said distractedly. Then he looked into her eyes trying to see some compassion in them. "Look, I made a mistake…."

But Faith didn't really care what he had to say. "Not the first time, I believe," She reached into her briefcase and pulled out another folder laying it on top. "On 1 April, you stated that FIREFLY ONE had been shot down due to enemy fire. Bullets recovered from the craft indicate it was shot down by rounds from a .50 caliber Barrett sniper rifle."

Sedrick wasn't standing for any more of this. "That rifle could have been stolen-"

"That's entirely true," Special Agent," Faith said seeming to back off from her accusation. "However, it doesn't explain the bullet wounds suffered by 1st Lieutenant Phillip …."

Sedrick Phillips had had enough of this. "Just what are you driving at, lady?" he said pointedly. If she had something on him, he wanted to know.

That thin smile appeared on Faith's lips. "We seem to have some discrepancies between your reports and these reports, Special Agent."

Now they were getting down to business. She wasn't here to arrest him. She was here to make a deal.

Sedrick settled back in his chair again. "Okay, Commander, it does appear that we do. So, what should we do about it?"

"I'm in a position to get these reports altered…."

Sedrick held up his hand to stop her. He was obviously dealing with a rookie. He idly wondered whether he should kill her here or take her to one of the Shiite neighborhoods here in Baghdad and dump her body there.

"How much is this going to cost me?"

"Money is not what I'm looking for, Special Agent." said Faith trying to sound insulted and bored at the same time. "If you would rather that I turn these over to proper authorities in my chain of command-"

"Wait up, wait up, uh, Commander-"

"Faith," she offered as a gesture she was willing to still negotiate.

He gave her a sly grin. "Okay…Faith. Look, just what are you looking for?"

"I need to find out who is in charge, overall. I have information for them regarding an operation being conducted by NCIS and JAG Corps."

"That would be me." Sedrick said in a confident, almost cocky, tone.

"Please don't insult my intelligence," she said coldly. "It wasn't easy gaining Admiral Chegwidden's trust and getting assigned to this investigative team…."

Boy was she touchy. "Easy Faith, sorry, I didn't mean to try to snow you like that…it's just…."

"Just what?"

"We have to be careful, you understand."

"Of course, I understand, nevertheless, I must get this information to them…."

"And what about those reports?" he probed.

"An editing program can make all the necessary changes." she said dismissively. "And, I have signature authority to sign off on any and all reports related to this case…."

" 'An editing program can make all the necessary changes….'" Gibbs threw open his door before the conversation ended and bolted out into the darkness, followed by the Master Sergeant. Sturgis gave both men a surprised look. "What?"

"She pushed it too far!" Gibbs said almost too loud. "He's going to kill her!" He had had this happen before; an inexperience agent, under cover for the first time, gets overconfident. So far it had only resulted in injuries. That might change tonight.

Sedrick smiled. So she did have a weak hand after all. Well, one more death for the cause would not trouble his mind. After he got her to sign off on those pesky reports and learned what she knew, he'd get rid of her and give the information he gained from her to Darcy.

Gibbs sprinted down the hallway, followed close behind by Sturgis. Both had their weapons drawn. " 'Colonel Livingston will generously reward you for your aid to our cause….'" Sedrick's voice was echoing in Gibbs' ear. Any minute he expected to hear pistol fire.

He cupped his mouthpiece so he could be sure that the NCIS Director heard his whispered voice. "Bravo two to Bravo one! Nightingale has been compromised! We're going in!"

"Understood Bravo two," said the NCIS Director as he stood up from his chair and watched the scene unfold.

As Gibbs and Sturgis rounded the corner, they could see that the Master Sergeant already had the night duty officer in custody. Both pulled up to the open doorway, Sturgis aiming high and Gibbs aiming low. They were joined by several MPs who were apparently friends of the Master Sergeant.

Gibbs motioned silently for the former Bubblehead to take two MPs and he'd take the other two.

Forming two teams, they entered the RIC's bullpen and made their way toward Sedrick's office. All the while, Faith continued chatting with the Special Agent, seemingly oblivious to the danger she was in

"That's why I am here, Special Agent Phillips. To make sure no more mistakes are made."

Sedrick gave her a gentle laugh. (So young and naïve,) he thought sadly. His hand started to move toward his middle drawer where his service pistol was resting.

Faith meanwhile had picked up on the slight scuffling noises behind her moving ever closer. That would be Gibbs and his rescue party…..

Gibbs hand signaled to Sturgis: 'tango visible.'

Sturgis nodded and indicated he was in position. They could now clearly hear the two voiced coming from behind the partially open door. Sedrick hadn't felt the need to shut it all the way.

"Just one more thing, Special Agent,"

"Yes?"

Faith dropped to the floor using the desk as a shield. The door to his office swung open to reveal Special Agent Gibbs, Commander Sturgis Turner and four heavily armed Marine guards in various stances pointing their weapons at Special Agent Sedrick Phillips.

"Sedrick! Let her go!" bellowed Gibbs aiming his pistol right at his heart.

"Get away from that desk, Special Agent! Lay down on the floor, hands out in front of you!" added Sturgis.

Sedrick couldn't have looked more stunned. His hand had almost been on the drawer handle. Odds were that he wouldn't survive if he tried to open that drawer. Instead of going to martyrdom, there might be a chance to salvage this situation if he did not lose his head….

Slowly the RIC started to get up from his chair, his empty hands raised high in the air.

USS Patrick Henry

Chief Medical Officer's Office

Captain Ingles comments to him were still buzzing around in Harm's head as he knocked on the entryway into the Doctor's office.

"Got a minute, doc?"

"Sure, come on in." He looked at the tall man entering his office and then he noticed the pilot wings on his uniform.

"You must be one of the Reservists." He looked at how tall the aviator/lawyer was. "Do you have any problems resulting from fitting yourself into the cockpit of a Tomcat?"

"Never have." Harm answered honestly.

The doctor nodded and made a note on his chart. "I see. Okay, let's take a look…go ahead and take off your shirt, please."

Harm unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, laying it on the nearby examining table. The doctor motioned for Harm to sit on the table.

The Patrick Henry's doctor felt around on either side under his jaw. "We have to make sure you aren't showing any symptoms of the flu." he explained as he felt the lymph nodes under the Commander's armpits.

"Have you been nauseous in the last 72 hours?"

"No."

"Any persistent cough or runny nose?"

"No."

"Any sinus congestion?"

"No."

"Any muscle aches or pains?"

"No."

"Any diarrhea?"

"Ah, no. Why all the questions, doc?"

"It's the sinus congestion we're most concerned about. This virus attacks the upper respiratory area and your intestinal tract. Different people respond different ways of course, but the most dangerous is, as you know, is any problem with your inner ear, Commander."

"Let's take your temperature." He picked up a tricorder-like device and took its attached pen and stuck in his mouth."

"Hold it under your tongue, please."

After a moment, the device beeped and he pulled the thermometer out of Harm's mouth. The doctor consulted the device then nodded.

"Okay, you've got a clean bill of health, but I want you get as much rest as you can, wash your hands frequently, eat those fresh fruits and veggies whether you want to or not, and avoid anyone that might be sneezing or coughing."

"The fruits and vegetables won't be a problem, doc, but on a boat this size it's gonna be kinda hard to avoid people who might be sick…."

The doctor gave him a wry smile. "Tell me about it, Commander. Just try and do your best."

BOQ/VOQ

Camp Chesty Puller

Mac flopped down on her bed, trying to will her muscle aches to go away. As she lay in quiet agony, she reviewed the day's events.

It started with a Physical Fitness Test (PFT) to make sure she still qualified, then a timed obstacle course and calisthenics. While some of the 'recruits' were already wheezing and puffing, Mac's high school track and field experience gave her the stamina and pacing so that she hardly broke a sweat at this point. This was only the beginning, however. Next she and the other 'recruits' were taken to a nearby makeshift pool and had to complete a series of grueling swim exercises.

And this all happened before noon. While they were still drying off, they double-time marched over to the firing range and began their rifle and pistol qualifications.

Other members of Darcy's unit stood around and watched the recruits, making snide remarks about their performance and other rude comments trying to psych them out. Mac noticed that even Kayce had joined the group, laughing and seeming to get in on the 'merriment'. She'd have to be more careful about what she told Kayce from now on.

It was tough, but Mac kept her concentration. She credited that to being one of the few girls in junior high and high school who'd excelled in her track and field events while being able to ignore the razzing her classmates gave her.

This was followed by a ten mile run with full pack and rifle. At the end of the run, they were given ten minutes to collect themselves, before the Company Sergeant Major and Darcy began leading the recruits to nearby tents to begin the psychological screening.

Mac might have been unnerved by this part except for the fact she had been through this once before; back in 1996 when she went to Bosnia. She knew some of the questions Darcy was going to ask her, figuring their meeting at the bar had been an informal screening of sorts.

Darcy didn't waste any time with pleasantries. She got right to the meat of the matter. She probed the Lieutenant Colonel about her drinking and father's drinking problems. Then she delved into her family problems, her petty crime spree with Christopher Rangel. And the death of her best friend, Eddie.

It was painful having those closed wounds ripped open again. Darcy made no secret of the fact she wouldn't tolerate Mac drinking while in combat or on duty. If they were at the bivouac, though, she could get falling down drunk for all the Colonel cared.

Mac played the part of a grateful lush to the hilt. Darcy seemed satisfied with her answers and told her to hit the rack and get some rest. Tomorrow, she told her, would be here sooner than she thought.

Mac thanked her for the advice, got up and left the tent. It was pretty close to 2100 hours and she could care less if she ate or not. Every bone and muscle in her body ached. Even her teeth hurt. She thought falling into bed was a great idea.

The Marine JAG Corps officer wondered what tomorrow would bring. She also wondered what Harm was doing right now. (Probably out flying an F-14….) she grumped to herself.

As she started to roll over, she froze when she saw Kayce Danvers sitting at her desk.

"Corporal?" Mac sat up, getting over the initial shock of seeing the Force Recon Marine sitting at her desk. Now she was angry. "How did you get in here?" she said sharply.

"Best if you didn't know ma'am," the Corporal said evasively.

Mac got up off her bed. "Okay, let's try a different tact. Why are you in my room?"

If this was supposed to fluster Kayce Danvers, it didn't. "Colonel's orders, ma'am. I was told to keep my eye on you."

Mac felt a pin prick of fear as she faced Kayce. Maybe getting close to her was a bad idea, since truthfully trusting anyone in this unit was almost impossible. She decided to handle it the way she would any mistake an enlisted person would make. "I think she meant check in on me, not follow me into *my room*, Corporal."

A normal enlisted person would have been properly chastised by this rebuke. Not this Force Recon soldier. "No ma'am, I was told to 'keep a close watch on you,' ma'am.

As a last resort, Mac tried sarcasm. "Are you going to sleep with me, too?"

"No ma'am, I wasn't going to, but if you like, I can," that comment raised Mac's eyebrows. Recognizing what the JAGC Officer thought, she added, "that is, if it will make it easier for you to get to morning formation on time."

Harm collapsed into his rack. He thought about washing his hands before going to bed, but fatigue wiped out any intention of doing that. He kicked off his shoes and laid down, never even feeling his head hitting the pillow.

The images that passed before him were a kaleidoscope of color. Harm trying to land on the Seahawk that fateful night. He heard the man screaming 'Power! Power! POWER!'

before he was forcibly ejected out of his seat. His last thoughts as his Tomcat plowed into the carrier's deck were about his RIO and his career as pilot being over.

Before he could fully process what had happened, he found himself lying on the deck of the carrier, several people around him including the CAG, the Flight Surgeon, Mace and a few others he didn't recognize. Probably part of the deck crew.

"Is he going to make it?" he heard Mace say, sounding as if he were in another room rather than right next to him.

"I can't tell you yet…." The doctor said his voice equally distant. Harm tried to get his fuzzy vision to clear, but nothing seemed to help.

"Harm?" He looked to his left and saw Diane in her summer whites, lean over him. "Harm, can you hear me?"

Harm tried to respond but his voice wouldn't work. He felt liquid bubbling out of his

mouth.

"He's aspirating!" the doctor barked, "I have to open an airway…" he leaned closer and the Naval Commander could see the glint off the knife edge of a scalpel.

The aviator/lawyer turned his head left and right trying to avoid the knife. 'Don't do this!' he wanted to scream. 'I can breathe! I'm not struggling for breath!'

But no one was listening to him. As he struggled, the people above him faded and grayed out completely, leaving him alone in the dark, hearing the blade cutting his throat.

For whatever reason, he couldn't feel any pain. Maybe the doctor had given him a local anesthetic? Where was everybody?

Again he tried to call out, then he heard voices in the distance and the blackness was replaced by a gray light that slowly grew brighter.

People appeared over him, most he didn't know or recognize but one he did. That was Mac, not just Diane in a Marine uniform. Somehow he just knew it was Mac. There were tears in her eyes.

"Harm? Harm! Dammit! I warned you Harm, I told you, you'd be shot down…and killed if you go on this mission…."

Before Harm could say he wasn't dead, a white sheet was draped over him.

Mac's words echoed in his ears.

"You'll be shot down…and killed…"

"Shot down…and killed…"

"Shot down and killed!"

As Harm struggled with the sheet, he heard and saw that haunting scene played before him just as Mac had described it:

"Missiles inbound..."

"Brace for impact..."

"Eject! Eject! Eject!"

Harm felt his body shred apart as the SAM hit his Tomcat.

His final thought before darkness overtook him:

(I love you Mac.…)

-TBC…


	58. Chapter 57

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 57

A/N1: Disclaimers and other vital information can be found in story archive for …FMS which can be found in the story chapter notes.

A/N2: **~~** indicates flashback or dream sequence ( ) indicates the thoughts of a person. *~* indicates a scene shift not otherwise indicated by a JAG time stamp. ~~~ indicates a dream sequence.

2048 Hours Local

NCIS Headquarters Office/CID

After Regional Investigative Coordinator Phillips was lead away by the Marine MPs, Gibbs moved over to Faith Coleman and spoke to her in a quiet, but firm voice.

"A word, Commander."

Faith Coleman had no idea what Gibbs wanted, but she could tell he was angry.

They moved to an adjacent office and went in, with Gibbs closing the door behind them. She had seen this happen before. With DiNozzo, with Pacci, and with Special Agent Blackadder. He only blew up at his agents if they weren't in the public eye. Now it was her turn.

Gibbs didn't waste time with a preamble. He was blunt and cutting. "What the hell did you think you were doing?"

Faith considered many responses in the brief time before she spoke, but she decided that a practical answer was the best bet…it would defuse the situation.

"I took a calculated risk," she said as if presenting her argument before a jury, "I knew that if I didn't, we might not be able to catch Special Agent Phillips-"

"You call that a calculated risk?" he barked like a seasoned DI. "I call that suicide! You overplayed your hand when you told him you could edit it! All he had to do was ask you how you edit it and he wouldn't need you anymore!"

Before she could say anything else in her defense, he gave her a swift glancing slap to the back of her head.

"Ow!" she yelped as she shot him a nasty look. "I *will break off* your arm the next time you try that!" she hissed.

The gray haired senior NCIS agent gave her an equally spiteful look with his steel blue gray eyes. "You pull a stunt like that again, and I will *kill* you myself," he said softly in that quiet voice of his that could send chills up your spine…and not the good ones, either.

Faith however was only a little disturbed by his comment. She was about to fire back with a snotty retort when there was a knock on the door. Gibbs gave her one last glare as he moved over to open it. Sturgis Turner was standing there at the entryway, eyeing the two of them.

"Is everything all right in here?"

Gibbs looked over at Commander Coleman then back at the Bubblehead. "I'll let the Commander tell you. She likes to do things on her own!"

"That was uncalled for, Special Agent," Faith in a cool voice.

Sturgis tried to play broker between what was obviously two very angry people. He had done it a thousand times before with clients. This shouldn't be too hard.

"Hey, hey, calm down, you two. No one got killed…."

"Not this time," Gibbs said harshly, giving her another hard stare.

No, it wouldn't be like handling clients, it would be worse; like handling two wildcats.

The Bubblehead knew that NCIS Agents by nature were supposed to be gruff and abrupt and Gibbs, he knew, had a reputation for being gruffer and more abrupt than most. But his comment did seem uncalled for. "Special Agent Gibbs-" he began.

Only to be cut off the Head of the Washington, DC Major Case Response Team. "She's part of *my* team, Commander Turner. "She obeys my rules, or she's off *my* team!"

Commander Coleman wasn't fazed by his threat. She had one of her own ready. "That is fine by me! And just so you are aware of the fact, Special Agent, I'm preferring charges against you-!"

"Feel free to do so, Commander," he shot back in that calm, stern voice that was frightening and infuriating at the same time. "But you'll find that since you are part of my team, what I say, goes."

Faith's lips became a hard, thin line. "Commander-!"

Sturgis looked from the senior NCIS agent to the JAG/NCIS liaison. "I'm afraid I have to agree with Special Agent Gibbs, Commander."

He turned to her, addressing his comments to the junior officer. "You are under his command right now, Commander, even if you still do report to Admiral Chegwidden,"

"Besides, what you did was pretty foolish."

"Foolish?" She couldn't believe it.

Sturgis' voice became out hard, tinged with just the right amount of anger. "Commander, you went into an isolated room with a suspected felon and then you proceeded to bait him to the point he would try to do you harm. Does the word 'entrapment' mean anything to you?"

Faith began backpedaling. "Sir, I did as we had agreed. I talked to him indicating I knew about the discrepancies between his reports and the official reports."

"Yes that you did very well. But neither Special Agent Gibbs, nor I, sanctioned you tell him you were going to talk to senior officers or edit that document yourself."

"I admit that was a calculated risk, sir," Faith stated firmly. Maybe a little too firmly. "But in order to make Phillips show his hand, I reasoned I had to do it."

"During an undercover operation, you cannot be a lone wolf, Commander," Sturgis voice signaling his displeasure with her actions. It was typical Turner, calm and reasoned responses becoming more irritated every time she didn't get the point.

"What would have happened if there had been a communication malfunction, or if he had found your wire?"

Faith had not stopped to think about that. She was so intent on showing Gibbs how good of an undercover person she could be-

Her internal debate was shattered by the indignant Commander Turner who was now on a roll. He had gone back to how her actions might have cost them the arrest. "Commander Coleman, it's only because *we* found a loaded service weapon in the desk drawer – which he had *his hand on* when *we* entered- that enabled *us* to arrest him. That, and the incriminating conversation you two had had up to that point!"

Despite his anger with her, she had to try to make him see her point of view, "Commander Turner, if you'll just-!"

"Commander, I strongly suggest, that in the future you follow Special Agent Gibbs' orders when you are part of his team. Are we clear on this?"

"Yes sir." She replied with a slight tremble in her voice.

Special Agent Gibbs walked out the office and back into the staff bullpen headed for the exit. It had been a long night and he didn't want to dwell on too deeply on why he had reacted so harshly to Faith Coleman's actions.

But his mind wouldn't let it go. He had seen this kind of thing go badly once before. When he was still a Probie under Mike Franks, his former boss.

"Probie! Walters is down!"

"I got the tango in my sights Boss!"

In his minds eye, Gibbs' could see Special Agent Clarissa Walters laying sprawled on the pavement. Next to her through his rifle's crosshairs was the wounded tango. He couldn't even remember the thug's name now.

The next moment his rifle kicked into his shoulder, and the tango's head bucked just before he fell from his kneeling position onto his back.

He remembered Mike rushing over to Clarissa's still form, cradling it in his arms.

"C'mon Clarissa, don't do this to me…." Mike moaned as he held the pretty woman in his arms.

He remembered laying his hand on Mike's shoulder. He hoped this would never happen to him. That's why he dug into the Lieutenant Commander so hard.

It was not something he wanted to see again. He didn't want to be the one holding a dead agent in his arms. Mike had never been the same after that and he felt sure he didn't feel the same either. And he never wanted to be in that position. Especially with her. He didn't know why, but he just didn't. End of story.

Right now, he had to get out of this office. He wanted to interrogate Phillips as soon as possible. That's where his thoughts were when he saw Sturgis at the door talking with an SP.

Sturgis turned and silently acknowledged Gibbs before turning back to the SP.

"That will be all, Petty Officer."

The PO came to attention and responded with an 'aye sir' before heading down the hall away from the two men.

"You handled that pretty well."

"You mean the SP?" Sturgis was confused by his 'out-of-the-blue' comment.

"No, I meant how you 'talked' to Commander Coleman about her behavior." Gibbs remarked.

"I find a soft spoken approach mixed with the right amount of 'officer indignation' works wonders." Sturgis Turner said evenly. "Harm once said I'd make a good school hall monitor and I think the Admiral is thinking of me as a supervisor of sorts…."

"You mean for Lieutenant Roberts?" Gibbs said as they began walking together.

"In a way, yes," Sturgis said as he turned more thoughtful, "But also as a steadying influence in the office…."

Gibbs had no idea how carried away Sturgis had become with his 'steadying influence' while Harm was flying for the CIA. At several points, many in the bullpen thought that Sturgis and Mac were going to come to blows over more than a few cases.

Sturgis regretted that things were still rocky between him and Mac; it was something he wanted to work on as soon as this case was over.

"I take it you're referring to Commander Harmon Rabb, Junior." Gibbs' comment brought him back to the current conversation.

Sturgis grimaced as if he had smelled something bad. "Actually both him and Colonel MacKenzie…."

Gibbs' eyebrows went up. A direction they rarely went. "Really…."

The Bubblehead nodded. "Both are given to fits of irrationality," Sturgis said, his voice weary, as he remembered vividly the 'which JAG stays' incident aboard the Seahawk when Bud was badly injured by that anti-personnel mine.

Gibbs could see now that Commander Sturgis Turner had been the 'man in the middle' for a while…maybe too long a while. With two explosive personalities like Rabb and MacKenzie, that had to be grinding.

"So you're not much for staying there," Gibbs concluded. He liked Sturgis.

But if he thought Sturgis was ready for a change, the former Dolphin's next answer tossed him. "On the contrary, Special Agent, I really enjoy it. Harm and Mac are my best friends…."

Now it was Gibbs' turn to be confused. "But you just said…."

"We all have feet of clay," Sturgis said. He suddenly realized he was talking about himself as well.

"Admiral Chegwidden knew what he was doing when he put our various personalities together. We clash sometimes, we even do unorthodox, and some might say bizarre things to get the job done. But we do get the job done."

They both stopped in front of the interrogation room where Gibb's friend, the Master Sergeant was standing with an SP. They were positioned on either side of the door.

"How is he?"

"Not ready for you, Gunny." The big African-American said with a smirk.

Gibbs gave the Master Sergeant a faint smile in return. "Make sure no one interrupts us."

"You got it, Gunny."

Former RIC Sedrick Phillips glanced around the room nervously. Many times he had been on the other side of this table, interrogating suspects. But he had never been on this side.

Stay calm, he told himself. They only have circumstantial evidence on you right now, if you handle this smoothly, you can get out with a reprimand about your reports and a warning about not following procedures….

Then he would make that JAG officer pay for her insolence.

Sedrick was already making plans about what he was going do with Commander Coleman when Special Agent Gibbs wrenched open the door and strode into the room, followed by Commander Sturgis Turner.

Gibbs was holding a thick folder. Sturgis walked over to the far wall and stood facing the two men.

The silver haired Special Agent didn't say a word as he reached into the folder and began slapping down papers on the table in front of former RIC Phillips. There were stapled multi-page documents interspersed with photographs of people. The photos had obviously been taken as part of autopsy reports.

"Who is your contact?" Gibbs said as he sat down opposite Phillips.

"What?"

Gibbs enunciated slowly as if talking to a slow person. "Who…is…your…contact?"

Phillips cleared his throat. "Special Agent Gibbs, I know my rights-"

A patronizing smile flitted across Gibbs' features. "Did you hear that, Commander? *former* Regional Investigative Coordinator Phillips knows *his* rights."

Sturgis chuckled, not moving from his spot. "I'm sure he does, Special Agent."

Gibbs turned back to Phillips. "Then you also know, Sedrick, that you are accused of being involved with the Iraqi insurgent movement?"

The RIC's eyes widened. "The insurgent movement? That is insane-!"

His facial expression looked believable, but Gibbs wasn't buying. "Is it, Sedrick?"

"Do not call me that," the former RIC said coldly.

This was not the man that Gibbs remembered. It was almost as if another person were inside of Sedrick Phillips. That's what they said about sleeper agents. They could even fool their own mother.

"Call you what?" grunted Gibbs.

There was an aire of disdain in the RIC's voice. Like he was dealing with two people unworthy of his attention. "Refer to me by my last name if you must, but do not use my first name…."

Gibbs chuckled and shook his head. "You talk to him," he said to Sturgis.

Commander Turner walked over to the table. "Special Agent Phillips, you really aren't in any sort of position to dictate anything to us." The former Dolphin rumbled ominously.

Again Sedrick made it look like he was the victim. "Look Commander Turner, I know I screwed up some reports, I'm willing to take responsibility for that-"

Gibbs cut him off, coming back at him hard. "How about for the deaths of Lieutenant Dodge and Captain Butler? PFC Krivstad? Are you willing to take responsibility for those?"

Again Sedrick widened his eyes, trying to look like a frightened animal. "I don't know anything about their deaths-!"

He looked to Sturgis, hoping to find that a brother would be more sympathetic to him.

But Sturgis had dealt with traitors many times before. To him, a traitor was a traitor. "Special Agent, I believe you were the lead investigating agent on the deaths of Lieutenant Dodge and PFC Krivstad. Tell me why you wrote your reports the way you did and we'll see about a deal…."

Sedrick Phillips would not find any sympathy from Chaplin Turner's son.

While Sturgis and Phillips traded basically worthless information, Gibbs looked at his PDA. He had to do something while waiting his turn. For the life of him, he never could get the hang of these things…then a message appeared on his screen.

It was from Tony.

'CDR Lexington's JAGMAN team worked w/ Phillips…coerced team into falsifying report…'

Gibbs pulled out the PDA's stick pencil and wrote in big block letters 'WHERE ARE YOU?' Then he hit send. He wanted to see if Tony would tell him he went to Bahrain without permission.

His PDA screen remained blank. No response from Anthony DiNozzo to that query.

Gibbs looked back at Sturgis. The former Dolphin backed away from the table "I can't help you Special Agent Phillips, if you won't give me something to work with…."

"Captain Branch said to say hello, Sedrick," Gibbs said quietly.

For the first time, Sedrick Phillips looked unnerved. "Who? I don't know what you are talking about-!"

"The head of Commander Lexington's JAGMAN team, Special Agent," Gibbs leaned over the table and into Sedrick Phillips' face. "You know, the man you forced to falsify evidence regarding Lieutenant Dodge's death and then when it started to come apart, you hung him and his JAGMAN team out to dry? Does that sound familiar to you, *Special Agent*?"

Sedrick's comment was borne of desperation. "You'll never be able to prove that,' he sputtered weakly.

Now it was Sturgis' turn. "We have the doctored reports in your handwriting. The 36th MEU's Head Surgeon has confessed that he helped you blackmail the JAGMAN team and alter the report on PFC Krivstad's death…we even have a couple of insurgents who finger you as PFC Secord's accomplice."

Sedrick Phillips looked from the JAG Corps officer to the NCIS Agent. It was over for him. The former RIC bowed his head and his shoulders sagged.

"I want guaranteed immunity," he said quietly.

Harm felt his body shred apart as the SAM hit his Tomcat.

His final thought before darkness overtook him:

(I love you Mac.…)

HARM! OH DEAR GOD!

The bark of Mac's voice made aviator/lawyer awake with a start. His heart felt like a jackhammer in his chest. The image that swam into his vision was that of an aviator peering into his bunk.

"Hey Commander, are you all right? You look like you've seen a ghost…."

Not so much seen a ghost as almost become one, Harm wanted to say. Instead, he wisely bit his tongue and swallowed that comment. He could still feel the imaginary shards of shrapnel in him. Why was it so real?

What was the connection between these bizarre dreams and what Mac was seeing in her nightmares? Was there a link of some sort? Could Mac really be seeing his death?

He decided now was not the time to think too deeply about the dream. He was on dawn patrol this morning and anything that screwed with his concentration could really make him a dead man.

Harm looked up at the Lieutenant who was now taking off his shoes and then at his watch. It was 2307.

"I didn't catch your name…."

The aviator gave Harm what he thought was an embarrassed smile. "Sorry sir." He stuck out his hand. "Lieutenant Jeff Rodriguez, everyone calls me 'Pitcher'.

They shook hands. "Pitcher?"

There was that embarrassed smile again. Something was familiar about this guy's face. "Um, yeah. Played in the minor leagues for a while before becoming an aviator."

"Not meaning to be nosy, but why are you just now coming to bed?"

Jeff carefully got into the top bunk. "Was on the last COD bringing reserve pilots out to the carriers. Then we had to get our physicals. I'm just glad I'm going to get this much sleep. They put me on mid-morning patrol."

"How many came in?"

"Six of us, sir." Lieutenant Rodriguez's drifting voice reported. "We were the last of the pilots that answered the call-up…."

Harm didn't hear anything else from the Lieutenant, who must've fallen asleep. He decided that unless he wanted to be bleary eyed for his dawn patrol, he'd better get back to sleep too, if he could.

BOQ/VOQ, Camp Chest Puller

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

The helo ride back to Mirbullah had been without any attempt at conversation on Faith's part. She sat stone-like in her seat. Gibbs and Sturgis had sat close enough together to discuss what to do next with Sedrick Phillips. He would not be flown south until morning.

When the CH-46 Sea Knight had landed at the ACE airfield at the Camp, Faith told both men she was headed to her quarters, saluted Commander Turner and moved out smartly.

Faith Coleman had learned over the years to hide her emotions and she was very good at it, but this time a single tear found its way down her cheek. Because it was early morning, she thought no one would notice.

She headed directly to her housing. Opening the door, she walked to the table and placed her briefcase squarely in the center. Her room, despite the conditions of this dusty area, was immaculate. A visitor with a smart mouth might say you could eat off her floor.

Faith swiped at a second tear that tried to make its way down her flushed cheek. Right now she wanted out of these clothes and she wanted to be clean.

She grabbed her running gear, her soap, a loofah sponge, a back brush and headed for the communal showers. When she got in, she scrubbed carefully, trying to remove the last bit of grit from her body. In her mind, she ran over the nights' events again and again, reliving the scary meeting with RIC Phillips and her fateful conversation with him. Then her argument with Special Agent Gibbs.

Gibbs! Her anger flared each time she thought about him slapping her and the way she had dressed him down. The worse part about that was that he was right – although the smack to the back of the head was overkill. At least in her mind.

Then she re-lived the dressing down and humiliation she had felt when Commander Sturgis Turner admonished her for reckless behavior. The worst part was he was right, as well. It was reckless behavior.

Having finished her shower, she turned off the lukewarm water and began toweling off. As soon as her body was dry, she wrapped a second towel around her torso and began scrubbing her hair dry. When that was done she carefully wrapped her hair in another towel. Despite her precise actions, her mind was still focused on finding out the reason for her inattentiveness when it came to her personal safety.

Why was she acting this way? It had started in Falls Church when she had grabbed that female terrorist. She had never been one for foolish stunts. She was logical person. At her last duty station, NLSO & TSO West near North Island NAS, she'd won her battles with arguments, not physical exertion.

So why, in the last week had she acted like a commando? Was it due to the events at JAG Corps Headquarters? A lot of people had strong reactions to what happened. That was predictable, even expected. It could explain her actions. But it didn't. Although the loss of 17 Naval and Marine personnel was heart wrenching, she didn't know any of them personally or otherwise.

So that brought her back to her original question. As she put on her running shorts and

t-shirt and tied her hair in a loose pony tail, she thought back to what might have triggered her devil-may-care-attitude. As she finished tying her shoes, a possible reason came to her. No, that couldn't be it.

She made her way back to her quarters. When she got inside, she sat down at her desk. After making sure the arrangement of everything on it was just so, she opened her seabag which she'd left sitting on the floor next to the desk.

She pulled out several packs of unsharpened No. 2 pencils. Then, she opened her briefcase and pulled out a manual pencil sharpener. As she began her ritual of sharpening pencils, her mind clamored for her to reconsider the verdict she had given herself earlier.

Okay, maybe that could be a factor in the cause of her behavior of late, she conceded, as she continued her work, but that couldn't be the sole reason….

Or could it? That thought made her anxious and increased the tempo of her work.

As she started on her last set of pencils, there was a knock at her door. Still absorbed in her self cross-examination, she opened the door automatically.

"Yes?" There stood Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

"Do you always open your door to anyone who knocks on it, Commander?"

Faith was flustered and embarrassed at the same time. "I could tell by the knock it was you, Gibbs." She snorted, trying to cover for her lapse in judgment.

Gibbs ignored the barb and looked around the room. It was just as Tony had described it. Immaculate. Well ordered. And six packs of precisely sharpened pencils lay in formation on her desk.

"Why are you here?" She walked away from him, feeling embarrassed about having so little on in front of him.

Gibbs watched her walk away from him. Her insecurity was palpable; he'd caught her off guard and vulnerable.

"I owe you an explanation for my behavior earlier, Commander."

She stood with her back to him, smirking. "Are you apologizing, Gibbs?"

There was twinge of irritation in the senior NCIS Agent's voice. "No, I'm not Commander. What you did was dangerous."

She turned around to face him. "So why are you here?"

Gibbs looked at her with those penetrating blue gray eyes. "Because I felt you're were owed an explanation since you're not a permanent member of my team."

She started to walk away from him again. "I really don't need to hear your justification, Gibbs. I'm temporarily under your command-"

"People get killed when they do stupid things, Commander. NCIS Agents, even ones temporarily assigned to my team, can't afford to do stupid things."

Faith had overlooked that little item when creating arguments in her mind. But she still wasn't giving up. "Hitting me-"

"-Got your attention, Commander. That's why I did it." Gibbs said, finishing her thought for her before she got something else wrong. "Don't pull a stunt like that again."

Faith's anger returned. But this time now not so much with him, but with herself for doing something as stupid as baiting Phillips and then using flawed arguments and logic to back up her defense! Gibbs was right, as usual.

"Understood Gibbs." She once again, had to fight not saying 'Yes sir' to him.

He looked back at her desk and then gave her a wry smile. "There are other ways to work out your frustration, Commander," he said cryptically.

"Meaning?" She turned her head to see what the NCIS Special Agent was looking at on her desk and then turned back to him.

"Meet me at the recreation area at 1300, Commander. We'll talk about it."

0350 Local

36th ACE Airfield, Camp Chesty Puller

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

The warm air was somewhat disconcerting at this hour. The sky though was crystal clear and the stars twinkled like precious stones against a black velvet backdrop. The only other thing that marred this beautiful sky was the harsh stab of sodium emergency lighting around the airfield and the entire camp.

Mac sighed as she felt a tiny pang of homesickness for Arizona that she quickly buried in her subconscious. She forced her mind to focus on the current situation. Mac had left Corporal Danvers sleeping peacefully as she made her way to the airfield.

Reveille would not sound for another forty minutes, so she had that much time to come out here and see Colonel Blakely off. As she headed for the airfield terminal, she saw Special Agent Gibbs walking in the same direction.

"What are you doing up at this hour, Special Agent?" Mac said as Gibbs moved toward her.

He gave her that wry smile of his. "I was going to ask you the same question, Colonel."

"I'm here to see Colonel Blakely off. Briggs got him on an early morning flight back to Baghdad."

"No doubt as a thank you for his services,"

"Yeah, but you might call it sort of a back-handed compliment."

He looked at the cargo aircraft being serviced. "I wouldn't." Mac would have sworn there was a hint of longing in his voice. She wanted to ask him about that, but a more pressing question was asked instead.

"So why are you here; just to admire the aircraft?"

He turned back to her. "I'm here to break up with my girlfriend."

"The plot thickens," she said playfully.

He nodded. "Yep; I don't like her joining Colonel Livingston's unit."

Mac chuckled at the irony. "Well I can't say I'm thrilled at that prospect either. But there's really no other way to find out if the Colonel's dirty."

"Well if she isn't, she keeps a lot of dirty company…."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning one of our Regional Investigative Coordinators, Sedrick Phillips, admitted to

working with the Iraqi insurgents."

"And al-Qaeda?" Mac gasped.

She couldn't believe it. Just how far had Livingston's 'cancer' spread?

"He wouldn't admit to that, but odds are that he was."

"al-Sahood?"

"Most likely,"

Mac spoke urgently. This was the break she and Harm had been looking for. "Gibbs, if we can tie him to al-Sahood and to Livingston, it would fill in a lot of missing gaps in this investigation."

The silver haired senior NCIS Agent understood her response. It was like finding the missing piece to an annoying puzzle. He wanted the nail them as bad as she and Rabb did. "I'm way ahead of you, Colonel. We're interrogating him this morning."

Actually the interrogation had started earlier, but the real business of finding out what he knew would begin later this morning

"Just make sure it's done by the book, Special Agent." Mac said suddenly turning

stern.

"I always do, Colonel." Gibbs said solemnly. "So, should we get this over with?"

"You mean you're about ready for me to publicly let the air out of this budding relationship?"

"No time like the present, Colonel. Happens to me all the time." Mac was pretty sure that last part wasn't a tongue-in-cheek comment.

"…Uh, just one request though."

"What's that?"

He gave her one of his shy, boyish grins. "Don't use any golf clubs to make your point."

-TBC…


	59. Chapter 58

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 58

A/N1: Disclaimers and other vital information can be found in story archive for …FMS which can be found in the chapter story notes.

A/N2: **~~** indicates flashback or dream sequence ( ) indicates the thoughts of a person. *~* indicates a scene shift not otherwise indicated by a JAG time stamp. ~~~ indicates a dream sequence.

A/N3: Okay folks, additional disclaimer time. Though I show USMC Force Recon in what looks like a 'less than glamorous light', remember this is work of fiction and Darcy's Force Recon is nothing like the actual USMC Force Recon. In later chapters you see examples of what real Force Recon are like. One more little detail; Saddam's regime did have [Boyevaya Mashina Desantnaya – Air Assault Vehicle] BMD personnel carriers, but his fledging airborne force never really got off the ground. Again, I'm mixing fact and fiction here; I doubt these carriers saw any action in 2003.

0358 Local

36th ACE Airfield, Camp Chesty Puller

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Colonel Clifford Blakely had his gear stowed. The KC-130 actually only made a few visits to Mirbullah each week, and that was usually only to deliver supplies or mail - Colonel Briggs, though, felt the Military Judge was at least owed a little better than a bumpy helo ride back to Baghdad.

In a way, he would miss Iraq. Any real Marine would. He had to admit that, in that way, he and Commander Rabb were alike – they missed being part of a combat unit. It had been a long time since he had done tours in country, but he had never really lost his taste for it, even though he had on the Mid-Atlantic Judicial Circuit for years.

But, orders were orders and he needed to get back to Falls Church billet as soon as possible. Admiral Morris wanted all the able bodied people he could lay his hands on for the court cases that would result from the al-Qaeda suicide attack.

Besides he had his fill of riding herd on Commander Harmon Rabb, Colonel MacKenzie and the other members of Admiral Chegwidden's legal/investigative team. He honestly didn't understand how the Navy/Marine JAG did it….

He wasn't looking forward though to getting back to JAG Corps Headquarters. The email he had received from Commander Helfman she'd indicated he would be sharing quarters with Captain Sebring for a while. That meant his office had been damaged or destroyed in the attack. Great.

(Oh well, it could be worse….) He and Owen had a pretty good working relationship. And he wasn't too bad of a guy, even if he was a Swabbie.

"Excuse me, Colonel?"

Clifford Blakely turned to see Commander Sturgis Turner, Lieutenant Bud Roberts and Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie standing as if they were awaiting orders.

"Commander, Colonel, Lieutenant, I hardly expected to see any of you at this hour…."

"We're early risers, sir," Bud said. That elicited gentle chuckles from the assembled group.

"We all wanted to see you off, sir." Colonel MacKenzie added with a hint of admiration in her voice.

He smiled warmly. "Well I'm grateful for that…."

"You pulled us through a stressful situation, Colonel," Sturgis said trying to clarify their reason for being there.

Blakely knew what he was referring to. "I just did what any senior officer would have done in that situation, Commander, but your sentiment is appreciated."

"Yes sir."

Blakely eyed the stone-faced NCIS Special Agent standing over to one side.

Their paths hadn't crossed that often, but when they did, he found Special Agent Gibbs to be a solid investigator who usually brought in air-tight cases. The one exception being the court martial of Harmon Rabb, Jr. for the death of Lieutenant Singer. Still, he made amends for that by not trusting the evidence found, and following a theory proposed by Rabb's attorney, Lieutenant Commander Coleman, Gibbs had Agent DiNozzo find out who was the real killer.

He wasn't sure what Admiral Chegwidden was doing in this particular case by having all of the JAG Corps investigative team play 'roles' as characterized in Theodore Lindsey's infamous report, but then Chegwidden was well known for his unorthodox methods for uncovering the truth in any case.

As he understood the report, Rabb and MacKenzie had a long running 'under the table' relationship. Both attorneys, mirrors of Chegwidden, were highly exaggerated by Lindsey's report, so they played their parts…as did Lieutenant Roberts and Commander Turner. The only exception to this was when JAG Corps Headquarters was attacked.

He came down hard on Lieutenant Roberts at the time, but it was for his own good. He didn't want to see the Lieutenant's career take a hit as a result of emotional outbursts and uncontrolled behavior. Still, he understood the man's sentiments. It would take all his training as Military Judge not to mete out some revenge of his own.

In a weird way, he was essentially now caught up in this dance …and so apparently, were the Special Agents of the NCIS Major Case Response Team, most notably Gibbs. Though he hadn't actually been a part of this whole ruse cooked up by Admiral Chegwidden, he thought it wouldn't hurt to give anyone watching some more fuel for the fire. Besides he had to tweak this Special Agent just this once.

"Special Agent, Gibbs, isn't it?" Blakely said as if trying hard not to remember the senior NCIS Agent. Bud and Sturgis were stoic. Mac almost had to bite her tongue to suppress a smile. She didn't know Judge Blakely was such a good actor.

"Yes sir, your honor." Gibbs said respectfully.

"I take it you're with Colonel MacKenzie," there was obvious disdain in his voice.

"Yes sir," Gibbs was the model of respect despite his urge to whip his head around and say to Colonel MacKenzie, 'did you put him up to this?'

Judge Blakely gave a labored sigh. "Well, at least you show more public decorum than Commander Rabb."

Mac's dark brown eyes went wide.

"Yes sir, your honor," There really wasn't anything else he could say to that comment.

Then Judge Blakely turned and smiled again at the Colonel. "We miss you up in the judiciary Colonel; hopefully we'll see you there again when you get back." Mac blushed at the compliment.

He turned back to the JAG Officers and NCIS Agent. "Gentlemen,"

The JAG officers came to attention. "Colonel,"

Blakely walked out into the cool morning and headed over toward the idling KC-130. A smile creased the lips of the Marine judge. If anyone had asked him about it, he would have answered that he heard a good joke recently.

Judge Blakely got on board the transport and strapped himself in. For once, there was a window next to his seat – through the window he saw Special Agent Gibbs move closer to Colonel MacKenzie.

As the plane began taxiing for take-off, he wondered what would happen next?

Mac turned to face the NCIS Special Agent. "Yeah, what is it? It's too early to do this, you know." Her tone was supposed to indicate she really didn't want him here.

Her ability to go from zero to bwitch in less than sixty seconds impressed him. Gibbs decided anything she could do, he could do better. "I just wanted to *report* to you that Special Agent in Charge Sedrick Phillips is on his way to Gitmo…." That was a half-truth, but then he couldn't let Colonel Livingston know all the details.

Mac's eyes flared for a moment, but then she recovered and a sarcastic smile came to her lips. "What do you want me to do, Special Agent? Pin a medal on you?"

Gibbs didn't flinch, "I'd like you to appreciate me busting *my hump* catching *your* criminal, Colonel."

If her disdain was an act, it was a good one. "Y-You weren't supposed to arrest him," He thought she was going to add 'you dope' in her next breath. But she didn't.

Instead she began lecturing him. "You were supposed to see who he was tied to-"

Okay time to play the irritated boyfriend. "-So you could come in and clean it up to look good for Colonel Livingston, Colonel?" he interrupted.

She put her hands on her hips, striking an indignant pose. "What do you mean by that crack?"

"You seem to have gotten pretty cozy with the Colonel."

She talked to him like she was talking to a child. "She asked for a legal liaison, Special Agent, although I don't know why I'm telling you this; it's really none of your business."

His face became like stone. "It becomes my business when you *interfere* with my work."

Mac blew out a frustrated breath and took a quick look around the room. "Why don't we finish this outside, away from sensitive ears and prying eyes?" She gave Bud and Sturgis a cutting look.

The two Naval Judge Advocates pretended not to notice her glare. Over on the far side of room, a Private who had walked in just before Judge Blakely left seemed to be taking too keen an interest in what was going on. Mac turned back to Gibbs and indicated who was 'eavesdropping'.

Gibbs gave her that patronizing smile and ducked his head. "As you wish, Colonel."

The senior NCIS Agent hoped the Private would try to surreptitiously follow them outside, but he guessed that the man would merely move closer to the double doors they were heading for and report what he saw.

The Marine Judge Advocate and the NCIS Agent practically knocked the double doors open as they strode out the building, headed for the tarmac. As Gibbs suspected, the Private moved closer to the doors, but didn't follow them outside.

Gibbs made sure they were far enough away from the doors to cause the amateur to move closer and peak through the windows at the developing scene

"So what did the Judge mean by that comment?" Gibbs was good at playing the jealous boyfriend – he had seen it enough times in his line of work.

Mac gave him a mirthless chuckle, the kind reserved for stupid, jealous boyfriend questions. "I've served on the bench a couple of times when we were short staffed…." She began.

Gibbs walked away from her, shaking his head. "Investigator, Lawyer…and Judge; does that mean you could be a jury too?"

The light Colonel's anger flared. "What did you just say?"

Gibbs turned back to her, his voice callous. "You heard me, Colonel. I said; you're interfering with a criminal investigation…my criminal investigation. That is a felony."

Mac played her wounded indignation for all it was worth. "You're accusing *me* of interfering with *your* investigation?"

Special Agent Gibbs maintained his harsh demeanor. "Interfering with a criminal investigation is *exactly* what you are doing. Has anyone else here joined a Force Recon unit in the last day or so?"

"Unbelievable…" she muttered.

Gibbs' face morphed into that of an angry DI "What did you say!" he hissed. Mac's flinch at his change wasn't all acting.

She then regained her ground and drilled into him with equal DI ferocity. "You heard me, I said 'unbelievable'! You're more rigid and unbending than Sturgis Turner, if that's possible!"

Gibbs gave a smile that would have made her want to smack his face – if she was really mad at him.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Take it any way you want." She countered.

She began chuckling and shaking her head. "Harm was right about you," she said spitefully, "You're more trouble than you're worth!"

Gibbs laughed quietly, the smile staying on his face. "That's what my three ex-wives tell me. Are we done here?"

He was good. For a moment, she lost her place. "What?"

His voice turned stern. "I said, are we *done* here?"

Mac thought about the different ways she could respond but decided the best one was to just give him a sullen look. "We're done."

Without saying anything else, Gibbs turned on his heel and walked away from her.

Mac noted when Gibbs turned to leave, the Private had disappeared. No doubt to inform Colonel Livingston or Captain Lewis about what had happened.

0500 Local

36th ACE Airfield, Camp Chesty Puller

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Mac felt like the proverbial little old peddler with her pack. There had to be at least eighty pounds worth of equipment that she was carrying. It seemed like too much to her…she didn't remember any of her previous jumps involving this much equipment, but then again, she had never jumped for Darcy Livingston before.

She had gotten back to her quarters just minutes before reveille sounded. It was earlier than Livingston had told her it would be, but then she expected that would be the case.

Within minutes of it sounding, Kayce, who she'd left sleeping on the floor, was on her feet and doing a quick scrub down. Mac was right there with her. If Darcy wanted this birddog with her every moment of the day that was fine with her...she could play along with the best of them.

"You've always been like this ma'am?"

"Ever since boot camp, Corporal."

"I think I'm really starting to like you, ma'am."

They both trotted down the dirt road to the airfield gate. Assembled around it were several other Marines. A couple of them turned and a Lance Corporal shook his head as if the two Marines approaching were the sorriest sight he had ever seen.

"Well, well, well, if it ain't Corporal 'Dead Eye' Danvers and-"

"-And who, Corporal?" Mac snapped, cutting the man off in mid-comment.

The Lance Corporal stiffened for a moment at the rebuke. But then he began smiling and threw a quick sloppy salute to the light Colonel.

"Begging your pardon, ma'am," he said with an air of mockery, "the light made it hard to tell who you were," That comment brought a few snickers from the other assembled Marines.

"Wipe that smile off your face, Corporal!" Mac snarled as her eyes narrowed to slits. Then she turned her fiery gaze on the others. "You Marines think his comment was funny?"

The snickers died away, replaced by sober faces and mumbled 'no ma'am's'. Mac noticed out of the corner of her eye that some of the senior NCOs had stopped what they were doing and were watching this incident with interest.

Mac turned to the Staff Sergeant who was standing closest to the chastened Marines. "STAFF SERGEANT!" she bellowed.

It had the intended effect. The Sergeant hustled over to the light Colonel. "Yes ma'am!"

"These Marines seem to have nothing better to do with their time than to run their mouths," Mac's voice dripped with contempt. "Are these your Marines, Staff Sergeant?"

"No ma'am!" he retorted with equal scorn as he eyed the embarrassed Marines, "but I'll take care of them right now-"

Mac held up a hand silencing the Staff Sergeant. She turned to the ringleader. "Lance Corporal, drop and give me 100."

"Wha?" Bledsoe couldn't believe what this…this…. He was so angry and humiliated, he couldn't see straight.

"Make that 200! Now Corporal! BEFORE I KICK YOUR SORRY BUTT TO THE DECK!"

DO IT BLEDSOE! Screamed the Staff Sergeant, "NOW!"

Lance Corporal Bledsoe, his face screwed up in indignation, dropped to the ground and began doing push-ups in silence.

Mac squatted down next to Bledsoe, a cruel smile on her face. "Have him start again, Staff Sergeant. He isn't counting!"

"Start again Bledsoe," the Staff Sergeant said sharply.

The Lance Corporal looked up at the E-6 NCO with a look of disgust on his face. "Oh come on, Sarge-"

"NOW BLEDSOE!" barked the Staff Sergeant

"ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR…!" the Lance Corporal began yelling as he started again.

Mac shook her head and stood up, grinning wickedly at the Staff Sergeant. "I don't hear any 'thousands', do you, Staff Sergeant?"

"BLEDSOE!"

All hints of surliness and disrespect were now gone from the Lance Corporal's voice. "AYE, AYE, STAFF SERGEANT! ONE ONE THOUSAND! TWO ONE THOUSAND! THREE ONE THOUSAND…!"

As Lance Corporal Bledsoe continued doing push-ups and counting out his cadence, Mac turned back to the little group of now humbled Marines.

"What is this? A fraternity meeting or a Marine Force Recon unit? STAFF SERGEANT!"

"FALL IN!" Bellowed the Staff Sergeant. "ON THE DOUBLE!"

The Marines who had been laughing at the Lance Corporal's joke were now hurrying to make a line. Kayce started to head over and join the others, but the light Colonel put her hand gently on her arm.

"Stay with me, Danvers." Mac said quietly.

Danvers didn't know what to make of this. But the Colonel was in charge, for now. "Aye, aye, ma'am,"

They watched as the Marines formed a line of four abreast. The fire team dressed right, spacing themselves equidistantly apart. Nervous looks flitted through each man's features as they looked at the Staff Sergeant, Mac and Lance Corporal Danvers.

"I can't hear you, Lance Corporal…." Mac sang.

"MA'AM! SORRY MA'AM! THIRTY ONE THOUSAND, THIRTY-ONE ONE THOUSAND, THIRTY-TWO ONE THOUSAND…."

Mac turned back to the sorry-looking fire team. "The rest of you give me 100…now."

The four men dropped to the ground and began their push-ups.

"AYE, AYE, COLONEL! ONE ONE THOUSAND! TWO ONE THOUSAND! THREE ONE THOUSAND-!"

"Don't let their cadence mess you up, Lance Corporal or you'll have to start all over again."

"AYE, AYE, MA'AM! SIXTY ONE THOUSAND, SIXTY-ONE ONE THOUSAND-!"

As Bledsoe and the others continued their push-ups, Mac turned back to the Staff Sergeant. "Thank you for your assistance, Staff Sergeant, please see to it that they finish before we're ready to take off."

The Staff Sergeant gave her a knowing smile. He was sure glad they weren't his fire team. "It'll be my pleasure, Colonel."

As Mac turned to head toward the runway, she saw Colonel Livingston approaching.

The Force Recon Lieutenant Colonel chuckled at the sight of the Lance Corporal and the four other Force Recon Marines doing push-ups. "Well, Cher, it's good to see you so bright and cheery at this hour."

Mac gave her a gung-ho grin. "What do you mean, Colonel? Isn't it nearly lunchtime?" Her comment recalled the time she had said something similar years ago to the Force Recon Colonel who was Captain Koonan's superior that time when Harm went undercover as a Gunnery Sergeant.

Darcy laughed heartily at Mac's bravado. "Excellent Cher, you will fit in perfectly." She turned back to the Staff Sergeant. "Have these men report to Colonel MacKenzie when they are done, Staff Sergeant."

"Aye, aye, Colonel."

Darcy motioned to Mac, "Come Cher, let us have some chow before we board our plane…."

"I'd like Corporal Danvers to stay with us, if that is all right,"

Darcy laughed again. It was a soft, gentle laugh. "Of course, Cher. Corporal, please do join us, we're having some cold MRE's with the rest of my staff before our mission begins this morning…."

"Aye, aye, ma'am."

As Mac finished the last of her cold chicken pot pie, the unit's S-2, or intelligence officer, began passing out the latest intelligence update.

"Overnight, we got word from one of our SEAL teams that our insurgent friends have managed to get one of Saddam's Soviet-built BMD personnel carriers operational."

There were a couple of shocked looks and some murmurs. The S-2 held up his hand so he could continue.

"The team wasn't able to get close enough to see how 'operational' this piece of hardware is, but even if it only has rounds for its chaingun, that presents a significant threat."

As the assembled officers and enlisted men digested that, he handed out a map of the town and some photos of the personnel carrier sitting in what looked like the village square. "The carrier was spotted leaving the village of Amariya just northeast of here. Amariya is known to be sympathetic to the former Baath regime of Saddam Hussein. There are unconfirmed reports that former regime soldiers have been spotted in the low hills near the village."

"Colonel Briggs has given us the green light to dispatch that BMD. Colonel MacKenzie, you will go with Lieutenant Ebbit's team and assume the part of Iraqi insurgents to gain access to the village and destroy that BMD."

The Force Recon Commander nodded to the S-2. "Thanks, Captain," she looked out at the assembled group. "Well, it looks as if you have your work cut out for you, Colonel MacKenzie."

If she was waiting for a startled reaction from the light Colonel, none appeared. "Yes Colonel," the Marine Judge Advocate replied like any good Marine should. Even though they were equals, Mac figured that deference at this point wouldn't hurt her.

Mac's response seemed to unsettle Darcy. "Ahem, yes, well you're going along on this mission, Colonel, because it's a training mission of sorts. And, with you and Corporal Danvers along, you two can talk to any friendly locals you run into to find out just how operational this thing is."

"Understood Colonel." Was Mac's only response. Kayce wasn't sure, but she thought that Colonel Livingston seemed somewhat disappointed that Colonel MacKenzie had not said more. It then seemed as though the Force Recon CO dismissed that thought and continued with her part of the briefing for Colonel MacKenzie.

"You'll be para-dropped in behind the village and make your way to an observation point to confirm the existence of that BMD. Once confirmed, you and Lieutenant Ebbits will make your way overland to the village, destroy the carrier, and return to our lines."

"You'll be using our version of Fedayeen transport…."

Mac turned and looked as two elderly looking Dodge pickup trucks, each with a M2HB .50 caliber machine gun in the bed of the truck, were loaded into cargo hold of a KC-130 that was sitting to one side of a hanger.

"It's amazing what you can find on E-bay these days," Darcy quipped as she watched the trucks being loaded. That caused some polite chortles to ripple through the assembled group.

Mac wanted to ask why such elaborate measures were being undertaken for such a routine sounding mission, but she figured she'd find that out soon enough.

"Report to Ebbits, Colonel. He'll fill you in on the rest of the mission,"

"Aye, aye, Colonel."

As she and Corporal Danvers started to leave the assembly, Darcy walked over to them. "Oh and Colonel? A word?"

She looked at Danvers and then back at Livingston. Mac walked over to where the Force Recon Colonel was waiting away from the assembled group. The S-2 was now speaking again.

Darcy's voice was friendly, almost casual. "You hit me with accusations of code reds, blanket parties and GI showers. Well Cher, have you seen any?"

Mac tried to act non-plussed. "None so far, Colonel."

Darcy nodded, smiling. "Not so easily impressed…for a person in such a…precarious position, Colonel, I find that invigorating and intriguing."

The light Colonel stood her ground. "I'm an officer of the court, Colonel. If you or anyone in your unit was doing anything that could be considered injurious to peoples' health and welfare, I have a duty as a JAG Corps officer to take action against it."

Darcy's smile faded some. "Well Cher, you'll find that no one engages in that kind of behavior in this unit. If they did, they'd have to answer to me."

0515 Local

USS Patrick Henry

Harm walked down the crowded corridor toward the Raptors' squadron ready room. It had been over two years since the aviator/attorney had stepped foot into this room.

As he walked in it was evident that he immediately became the center of attention. A couple of other aviators who had been playing cards stopped their game and looked up at the tall Commander entering the room. Another pilot who had been reading a magazine lowered it and nodded to Harm.

Harm returned their guarded greetings. He noticed that he was the only Reservist who had made it into the ready room so far. As he walked over to the coffee pot, he passed two female aviators sitting under the Velociraptor logo for their squadron, engaged in a game of checkers. The brunette who sat with her back to him was intently studying the board. The other aviator, her golden blond hair tied in a loose pony tail, glanced up at Harm as she waited for her partner to make a move. The nametag on her flight suit read "Hollands"

"C'mon Dust Storm," she groaned impatiently looking back at the woman across from her, "this is a friendly game of checkers, not a world championship chess match." Why in the world she had let her RIO talk her into a game of checkers at this hour of morning, she'd never know.

"Give me a minute, will ya?" the brunette grumbled. Then she nodded and proceeded to jump her checker piece across the board until it reached the other side.

"King me, Supergirl" she said glibly.

"I'd like to crown you, that's what I'd like to do," growled Hollands.

"Oh don't be such a sore loser," Sandy 'Dust Storm' Ribkins said obviously close to gloating. "You could have done that if you had just been a little more patient earlier in the game."

"Yeah and we'd both be twenty years older if I used your strategy…."

That comment elicited a deep chuckle from the tall Commander who had filled his cup and now was walking back toward them.

Both women looked up at Harm. Dust Storm gave him a shy smile. Nicole Hollands, aka Supergirl, wasn't interested in what this guy had to say about their game. She felt like he was an interloper.

"Can I help you?" she challenged.

"Easy Commander," Harm said holding up his hands to the young blond Lieutenant Commander, "I couldn't help but overhear."

Nicole dropped her defensive stance, realizing she was being rude, especially since the man she was talking to was a more senior officer, a full Commander.

"Sorry sir, that was out of line," she said referring to her initial response to him.

"It's all right, considering the walloping the Lieutenant just gave you; I probably would have been a little sore myself."

"You'd think I would have learned by now *not* to play her," She stuck out her hand. "Lieutenant Commander Nicole Hollands; and this is Lieutenant Sandy Ribkins, my RIO."

"Pleasure to meet you, sir." Sandy almost gushed as she shook Harm's hand. Nicole fought the temptation to roll her eyes at her RIO. Sometimes Sandy could be such a girl when it came to meeting a handsome guy.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant, Commander. Commander Harmon Rabb, Junior, I've been assigned to your squadron."

So this was their new squadron commander. Nicole wondered where they got this guy from. "You came in on the COD last night?"

Harm took a sip from his steaming cup. "One of the earlier ones."

That wasn't much help. Reserve pilots had been pulled all over the region because of the damage inflicted by this flu bug. This guy could have come from any duty station in the Gulf. She just hoped he wasn't a nugget or some desk jockey that occasionally got to ferry aircraft from one base to another.

She was about to ask what experience he had, but starry-eyed Sandy beat her to it.

"So are you stationed here in the Gulf?"

The tall naval Commander gave both of them a small smile. "Ah, no, I'm from JAG Corps Headquarters," Harm said somewhat sheepishly, "I was with a JAGMAN team at Camp Chesty Puller near Mirbullah when I was pulled for some flying duty…."

Great, she thought, we need pilots and they send us a land based Washington weenie…. "So have you flown a Turkey before, Commander?" It was a leading question and a loaded one at that.

"I prefer to call them Tomcats, Commander," Harm replied in a clipped tone that indicated he really didn't care for the uncomplimentary nickname.

Her assessment of this tall Naval Commander went up by a few notches with that comment, but in her eyes, he was still a legal weenie. Not something she really cared for that much.

"Hey Commander, there you are." The ladies looked at the aviator coming up behind Harm. The aviator/attorney turned to see Jeff making his way toward them.

"The CAG's making his way back here." Jeff reported

Nicole and Sandy got up from the table, "Time to go earn our pay, sir"

Harm and Jeff followed them up towards the front of the room to a set of leather chairs with fold down writing tables situated in front of a large whiteboard.

The CAG looked around at the assembled pilots. The last time he'd seen Commander Rabb, he was still holding onto some bitterness about the Commander losing his 'Cat during a storm off the Atlantic seaboard back in May of 2001. Now here the Commander was back again, this time as the squadron commander of his Raptors.

"Rabb, you and Hollands will patrol the northern quadrant up to rendezvous point Texas. You can expect lots of traffic around the area. The Iranians have been shadowing our flights lately. Nothing serious, it just seems to be more curiosity than anything else."

Harm looked up from his notes. "They don't appreciate us playing in what they consider their pond, CAG."

The CAG gave the assembled aviators a slight smile. "Then, Commander, I expect you to make our intentions clear to them. We are conducting our usual air combat patrols and regular air-to-air training in our designated areas. Warn them off if they get too nosy. Otherwise be diplomatic. You know the routine."

Harm nodded. "Aye CAG," He probably understood the gist of that comment better than any of the other aviators assembled here for this briefing. He had been, in times past, in many delicate situations that could escalate into combat if not carefully handled.

"Some of the other Gulf air forces will also visit from time to time while you're up there. Show them every courtesy, Commander."

"Aye, aye sir."

The CAG knew that Harmon Rabb, Junior was probably the best pilot to lead the Raptors at this point. The man was good; there was no doubt of that. And as for losing his plane, he had eventually learned from Captain Ingles that his bird had suffered an electrical malfunction in that storm. And not due to anything that Rabb had done.

Still it was hard for him to forgive the aviator/attorney for losing that Tomcat in 2001 and for subsequently 'borrowing' another 'Cat to get back to Patuxent Naval Air Station back in December 2002.

Sure, he had been carrying Admiral Boone with him, but it still irked the CAG that this wily Commander had snookered one of his best pilots at the time, just so he could get the Admiral back stateside in time for Christmas.

"You have your orders," the CAG told the assembled aviators. "Now get to it,"

-TBC…


	60. Chapter 59

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 59

A/N1: Disclaimers and other vital information can be found in story archive for …FMS which can be found in the chapter story notes.

A/N2: **~~** indicates flashback or dream sequence ( ) indicates the thoughts of a person. *~* indicates a scene shift not otherwise indicated by a JAG time stamp. ~~~ indicates a dream sequence.

As she and Corporal Danvers started to leave the assembly, Darcy walked over to them.

"Oh and Colonel? A word?"

She looked at Danvers and then back at Livingston. Mac walked over to where the Force Recon Colonel was waiting away from the assembled group. The S-2 was now speaking again.

Darcy's voice was friendly, almost casual. "You hit me with accusations of code reds, blanket parties and GI showers. Well Cher, have you seen any?"

Mac tried to act non-plussed. "None so far, Colonel."

Darcy nodded, smiling. "Not so easily impressed…for a person in such a…precarious position, Colonel, I find that invigorating and intriguing."

The light Colonel stood her ground. "I'm an officer of the court, Colonel. If you or anyone in your unit was doing anything that could be considered injurious to peoples' health and welfare, I have a duty as a JAG Corps officer to take action against it."

Darcy's smile faded some. "Well Cher, you'll find that no one engages in that kind of behavior in this unit. If they did, they'd have to answer to me."

The CAG knew that Harmon Rabb, Junior was probably the best pilot to lead the Raptors at this point. The man was good; there was no doubt of that. And as Harm for losing his plane, he had eventually learned from Captain Ingles that his bird had suffered an electrical malfunction in that storm. Not due to anything that Rabb had done.

Still it was hard for him to forgive the aviator/attorney for losing that Tomcat in 2001 and for subsequently 'borrowing' another 'Cat to get back to Patuxent Naval Air Station back in December 2002.

Sure, he had been carrying Admiral Boone with him, but it still irked the CAG that this wily Commander had snookered one of his best pilots at the time, just so he could get the Admiral back stateside in time for Christmas.

"You have your orders," the CAG told the assembled aviators. "Now get to it,"

Chapter 24b, part four …For Meritorious Service

"Hey El-Tee, here come the last of our recruits…"

1st Lieutenant Carlson Ebbits turned and saw two figures hustling towards him. (Cripes, they look female…) Ebbits groaned silently. His worst fears were confirmed as the two approached.

Yep, they're both female. Even worse, one of them was a light Colonel. (Great…)

He gave her a crisp salute. "Colonel,"

Mac returned his salute. "Lieutenant Ebbits, Colonel MacKenzie; this is my aide, Lance Corporal Danvers…."

Kayce gave Mac a furtive sidelong glance. That was just what the light Colonel had hoped she would do. Until now it had been an unofficial assignment. She wanted to keep this Lance Corporal as close to her as possible. If Kayce was a spy for Colonel Livingston, then Mac was going to follow the old adage 'Keep your friends close and your enemies….'

Ebbits looked the two up and down as the Marine light Colonel continued her introduction. (At least they aren't prissy. Neither one had a compact out, checking their hair or makeup…so far, so good….)

"…Colonel Livingston said that you would brief us on the mission particulars…" Mac trailed off, noting that the Lieutenant seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. "Lieutenant?"

If Lieutenant Ebbits was embarrassed, his voice didn't betray it. "Got a lot on my mind this morning, Colonel," he said by way of an apology, "I'm sure you understand…."

Mac didn't miss a beat. "Of course, Lieutenant."

"You and the Lance Corporal can store your gear temporarily with Gunny Dallas and Corporal Calapango, ma'am," Ebbits said. "Then I'll brief you and your aide on our mission."

Mac was certain Ebbits had just a hint of sarcasm in his voice but decided to let that slide for the moment. Though she was a senior officer, she was technically under his command. Besides, it could be fatigue or something else that could be causing that tone. Better to wait and learn more about this junior, but seasoned Marine Force Recon officer.

She nodded her appreciation. "Thank you, Lieutenant." She turned to Kayce, "C'mon Corporal."

"Yes ma'am," the younger woman said as they both walked over to the two Force Recon soldiers who Mac surmised were Gunny Dallas and Corporal Calapango. The men were standing by a neat row of stacked gear.

Mac and Kayce were carefully checking their chutes one last time. They checked their MC1-1B parachute lines and rigging as well as their canopies on both their main and reserve chutes. The light Colonel thanked God it was still dark. She didn't want Danvers to see how nervous she was. Maybe she would just think Mac was being cautious.

"Begging your pardon ma'am, I don't blame you for being overly cautious. I haven't jumped in a while either…."

Relief flooded through Mac. Danvers had bought it. Or at least she was acting as if she had bought it.

"You can never be too careful when doing this, Corporal," Mac replied trying to sound confident. "You remember 'Blood on the Risers' from airborne school, don't you?"

"Like it was yesterday ma'am. They changed the lyrics when I was getting ready to jump. It was supposed to psych me out."

Mac turned to the young Lance Corporal. "Did it?"

"It psyched me up rather than out, ma'am." She gave Mac a big grin.

Mac couldn't help but give her a bright smile in return. Part of her really hoped Kayce wasn't a spy for Colonel Livingston.

"Colonel,"

Mac turned and stood up as did Danvers. Lieutenant Ebbits walked over to them. He had what looked like several paperback books in his hands.

Ebbits looked down and saw that their parachutes had been expertly packed. That impressed him…some. So there was more to these two than the proverbial 'meets the eye'. He gave the Light Colonel a steely look. "I heard you were with Captain Walls' Force Recon Team in Bosnia…"

Mac couldn't see Kayce Danvers' flared eyes. Apparently Lieutenant Ebbits had read her package…all of it.

"Yes Lieutenant."

"Well, that's good. I hope it means that you're a fast learner, Colonel…."

"I can do what you need me to do, Lieutenant."

"Good, because you're going to be my second in command on this mission, my assistant, if you will. The Master Guns is going along with us to make sure everything goes smoothly with the new recruits – those new recruits include you, Lieutenant Colonel."

Mac mentally debated about verbally slapping the Lieutenant for this breach in protocol, but figured she would find out soon enough what was behind his slip. It was clear something was bubbling just beneath the surface.

Ebbits seemed to rein in whatever he was trying to control. "Here; keep these with you at all times…." He handed each of them a small paper bound book with a green cover.

Mac assessed the compact volume in her hands. "Small Wars Manual…."

Ebbits nodded. "A lifesaver out here, Colonel. It's how we operate. And this…."

The other small book looked more like a copy of a dissertation. "A History of the US Army versus the Indians of the West…." She said as she fingered the volume.

"Another God-send out here, Colonel, and don't either of you lose these. You'll need'em both…and you're responsible if you lose them."

"All right Lieutenant," Mac said like a senior officer willing to tolerate this kind of treatment - up to a point. "What about our mission?"

Ebbits nodded. He squatted down and pulled a map out of the case he had slung over his right shoulder. Mac and Kayce squatted down to join him. All three studied the map.

"You heard about the Fedayeen element in Amariya during the intel briefing?"

Both the light Colonel and the Lance Corporal nodded. "Well, that was just part of it. The SEAL team got a prisoner that they brought back with them. Seems that our friendly neighborhood al-Qaeda has been helping Saddam's boys."

Ebbits took out his grease pen and began marking on the map. "They've got a well entrenched series of bunkers, emplacements and fortified houses on this hill right in back of the village." He circled "Hill 522" located in back of Amariya.

"The SEALS saw the BMD carrier here." Ebbits hastily scribbled a symbol for an armored personnel carrier near the crest of the hill. "Our job is to make a detailed observation of the Fedayeen/al-Qaeda positions from this hill, lure that BMD out of its hidey hole, knock it out or at least disable it, and hightail it back here." The Force Recon Lieutenant placed symbols for their team on "Hill 520" and marked a kill zone between the two hills near what looked like a farm.

Ebbits stood as did the two women. "Marine CAS will take care of the rest; any questions?"

"Just one, Lieutenant," Mac said "The trucks I saw being loaded…?"

Ebbits gave her a knowing smile. "One of the Colonel's personal touches. She got them surplus-ed from an Army unit shortly before we came overseas. Thought it would give us more of a local flavor since Technicals are the vehicle of choice for the Fedayeen."

He paused for a moment. "How long has it been since your last parachute drop, Colonel?"

"Oh, it's been a couple of months," Mac said glibly. (More like a couple of years….) she thought grimly.

The Lieutenant gave her a fake smile. "Don't worry ma'am, it's like riding a bicycle, you never forget."

(I sure hope that's the case….)

Ebbits looked at his watch, "We're getting close to zero hour, Colonel, you and your aide better grab your gear and prepare to board." He then looked at Kayce. "Danvers, I heard you were a sniper…."

"Yes sir," she replied.

"Good. You'll be with Corporal O'Grady; we're short a sniper for this mission. You familiar with the Mike 82 Alpha three?"

"My weapon of choice, sir." Danvers smiled wolfishly.

Ebbits chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Glad to hear it. Your job will be to disable that BMD or any other motorized bandit we run into along the way."

"Aye sir,"

"Outstanding." Ebbits saluted Mac, "Colonel, see you in a few."

When the Lieutenant was out of earshot, Kayce turned to Mac. "If I may ask, what's your impression of our CO, Colonel?"

Mac shot her a 'you know better than to ask that' look. "I think we'd better get our gear in order, Lance Corporal."

"Aye, aye, ma'am."

The KC-130 transport rocked and swayed in the pre-dawn darkness. Mac thought back to the Patrol Order that Lieutenant Ebbits had handed to the assembled team members just before they boarded the aircraft.

He had waited until this moment because it turned out that Mac and Kayce were a 'surprise' that Darcy had thrown in for Ebbits to deal with at the last instant.

Ebbits, a true Force Recon Marine, handled this aberration with aplomb. His Patrol Leader's Order reflected that. There were no last minute scratch-outs on the paper she had been handed. The Lieutenant had anticipated his second in command would not be named until the last moment.

At least Kayce Danvers would not be her concern for a while. Mac looked down the row of seats. Kayce and Corporal O'Grady were deep in conversation. One then the other nodding their heads in response to something the other had said.

The Marine Judge Advocate only hoped that Kayce wasn't reporting to one of Darcy's 'eyes and ears'.

While Mac had been doing her mental gymnastics, she hadn't heard the aircraft commander tell a lanky Staff Sergeant that Ebbits had three minutes to the drop zone. The Force Recon Lieutenant nodded and shuffled over to the door.

The Staff Sergeant released the lock and the big back door of the KC-130 slid up and locked open overhead. The whistling of the warm morning air added to the noise in the cabin.

Ebbits, acting as jumpmaster hooked up and looked at the team sitting on either side of the aisle.

"GET READY!" He barked above the howling wind.

Everyone leaned forward, one foot under the seat and one in the aisle. Mac could hear the pilot throttling back.

Carlson Ebbits stuck his head outside of the craft and looked all around the exterior. Satisfied, he pulled his head back in.

"OUT-BOARD PERSONNEL, STAND UP!" Mac, Kayce and the other two Force Recon Marines stood up and secured their seats. Ebbits nodded his approval and then looked to the other side of the aircraft.

"INBOARD PERSONNEL, STAND UP!" The last three of the Force Recon Marines stood up and secured their seats against the side of the aircraft walls. Mac noticed the Master Gunnery Sergeant gave her a nod. She didn't respond.

The assembled team turned toward the Lieutenant. "HOOK UP!" He barked.

They unsnapped their hooks from the reserve carrying handle, reached up and clipped it to the anchor line. Then they slipped the safety wire into the hole, toward the aft end of the aircraft and bent it down. Next, they took the slack out of the static line by forming a bight at eye level and held it. As one they turned toward Ebbits. The First Lieutenant nodded.

"CHECK STATIC LINES!"

Mac and the other Force Recon Marines took one last time to feel the line that was hooked to the anchor line. She checked it minutely for frays or tears, that it was properly attached, that it was properly routed and there was no excessive slack. The others did the same. Their inspection completed, they turned back to the First Lieutenant.

"CHECK EQUIPMENT!"

With one hand still on the static line, Mac used her other hand to quickly check herself. No loose belts, the lanyard to her 9mm pistol in her thigh holster was secure. She looked back up at Ebbits. Apparently so did the others.

"SOUND OFF FOR EQUIPMENT CHECK!"

Each Marine sounded off one by one. As they did, they would tap the Marine standing next to them who would then reply "OKAY!". That continued until she was tapped by the Marine standing next to her.

"ALL OKAY!" She reported to the 1st Lieutenant.

Ebbits nodded. He made sure the cargo door was securely open and then made a final safety check of the immediate outside area around the thundering aircraft.

Satisfied, Ebbits motioned to Mac to come forward. Mac shuffled up to the open cargo door. The dark land was lit only by moon and stars and nothing else. The cool high altitude wind whipped at her face.

Ebbits leaned in so he could be heard. "Ready Colonel?"

"Ready!" (as I'll ever be) she added silently.

She had made a few jumps on and off since her Bosnia adventure, just to keep from losing her skills completely. She had jumped with Harm twice; once when their MiG was shot out from under them when she'd gone with Harm to Russia to search for his father; the other time had been in response to a dare from the good Commander. Despite the fact the moments up to the jump gave her a major case of the butterflies, she'd shown Stickboy just how seasoned she was. Harm had admitted she was damned good. The glow had stayed with her for the rest of that weekend.

"STAND IN THE DOOR!"

Mac put her hands on the outside of the aircraft, her eyes on the horizon.

"GO!"

Mac thrust herself out of the Hercules transport and led her 'stick' out of the rocking aircraft.

She counted to five and pulled the ripcord. Like clockwork, the parachute she had packed earlier so carefully, opened.

Mac looked around and saw Kayce to her left and other members of her stick around her.

The Marine Judge Advocate tried hard to remember her training from long ago. As she looked around, she ran down her mental checklist:

(…eyes open…

…chin…

…elbows…

…fingers…

…right hand…

…legs…

…toes…

…bend forward…

…check canopy…)

Mac looked around and saw the rest of the Recon team floating around or above her. As she looked toward the horizon, it was slowly starting to turn gray. Before long it would turn bright as the sun rose. She watched the KC-130 slowly turn in the purplish gray darkness, her navigation lights glowing.

It was time to get ready to land. Again she began her mental checklist.

(…head up…

…feet and knees…

…elbows…

…hands…

…legs together…

…pull steering mechanism…

…drop and roll….

…get up and snag the chute, spill air out….)

0530 Local

USS Patrick Henry

Harm felt his body slammed back against his seat as the carrier's steam catapult launched his F-14D Super Tomcat into the pre-dawn sky. Following immediately to his left and behind him was Nicole's Tomcat.

Both planes quickly gained altitude.

Harm and Nicole's planes soared over the dark warm waters of the Persian Gulf, heading into the brightening pre-dawn sky. As he always did when flying, Harm felt more alive than he had felt in quite a while.

"Great view isn't it, Hammer?"

Harm reached over for his combination radio mike/oxygen mask. "The best, Supergirl."

0532 Local

Drop Zone

Northeast of Mirbullah

'Master Guns' Rudy Willbane grinned "Okay Recruits…good job, not outstanding, but it'll do for this morning. Now heads up because I don't want anybody squashed flat by the supplies they're dropping on our heads!"

Mac looked up with her night vision goggles and saw the transport lazily circling overhead had disgorged several large crates with chutes which were now making their way earthward.

"Look alive, Recon! After these packages are safe on the ground, our transport will come in low and drop off our rides!"

0540 Local

Persian Gulf

The two Tomcats sliced through the warm morning air. Harm still couldn't believe he was back in the cockpit again. He looked over at the F-14D riding shotgun.

"So what's on the agenda for today, Nicole?"

Harm could tell Nicole Hollands was grinning. His eye caught the name stenciled on the side of her aircraft 'Supergirl'

"How about we see *how good* you really are, Commander?"

Harm got a sly smile on his face as he clipped on his oxygen mask, kicked in his afterburners and watched his wings fold back. "Bring it on, Supergirl." He said softly.

Harm, out of the corner of his eye, could see Nicole streaking toward him. She was eager for the first kill. Harm kicked his Tomcat into a corkscrew that brought him briefly into her sights, but not long enough for a gun or missile lock. He passed to the left of her as she attempted to close on him.

"Dammit! We overshot him Supergirl!"

"I've got eyes Dust Storm! Just keep him from blowing our tail off!"

As the two Grumman fighters wheeled through the early morning sky, Nicole could see the Reservist had made a fatal mistake.

"Engaging with missiles!"

"You haven't got a lock!"

"I'm only going to get one chance!"

In Harm's plane, the warning tone of a missile trying to obtain a lock could be heard.

"Harm! She's gonna blow us out of the sky!"

"Not if I can help it! Hang on, Pitcher!"

Harm corkscrewed out of Supergirl's line of sight.

"Damn! Missed him!"

"He's good Supergirl!"

"Oh yeah? Well, I'm better!"

Nicole yanked her 'Cat over into a similar corkscrew, hoping to catch Harm at his own game.

The aviator/lawyer smiled at the younger pilot's maneuvers and reduced his speed, causing the other F-14 to shoot out in front of him.

"Gotcha Supergirl," he said softly as targeted her plane and 'fired' his missile. "Fox two…."

The warning tone sounded in Supergirl's fighter.

"He's tracking us!" barked Sandy

Nicole looked around frantically. "Where is he?"

"Eight o'clock high! Hammer has both gun and missile lock on us!"

The warble changed to a solid tone indicating a kill.

"We're toast!" Sandy barked.

Nicole swore under her breath as she brought her plane around. She shouldn't have fallen for such an obvious trap. She had underestimated her opponent. She wouldn't do that again.

With the tone still ringing in her ears, Nicole laughed hard, trying to show the Reservist pilot that his 'lucky kill' hadn't rattled her. "Damn legal eagle, where did you learn those maneuvers?"

"In the Gulf of Sidra, Supergirl." Harm replied laconically. He looked in the mirror and smiled at Jeff. The RIO was grinning too. Since they were both Reservists, it was nice to put this hot shot in her place.

"Wanna go for best two out of three, Hammer?" the challenge in her voice was evident.

"Anytime you're ready, Supergirl…." Harm felt the adrenaline rush as the fight or flight feeling took over.

Supergirl yanked back on her stick, sending her 'Cat off towards the stratosphere.

"What's she doing?"

"Trying to line us up for a kill, hang on!" Harm broke right and then instantly regretted it. In his mind's eye he could see what Supergirl was doing.

"She's rolling inverted! She's gonna come down on top of us!" Jeff reported.

"I know!" Harm snapped as he tried to coax a little more speed out his plane. At the right moment, he would throttle back and Nicole's fighter would streak into his kill zone.

"I've got a warning tone!"

"Damn!"

"She's letting us have it; missiles and guns!" Jeff added unnecessarily.

"Figures," Harm said disgustedly

"Sorry Hammer," Nicole sounded like a gleeful kid trying not to gloat. "Looks like we're even now…."

Harm looked over at Supergirl who was now flying even with him. "Good job, Supergirl,"

"Thank you, Hammer," she said trying to sound gracious. She was surprised by his compliment. She was used to sullen silence or snide remarks from someone she had just shot down, not gallantry. There was more to this aviator/lawyer than she thought. Maybe he was just showing off his courtroom manners, like he would to another attorney who'd just beaten him in court.

"Shall we give it another go?"

"Sure; you did say best two out of three…"

As soon as the words left Harm's mouth, he yanked his plane over in a screaming right turn that caused Nicole to overshoot him.

"Oh Crud!" Supergirl yelped as she tried to decelerate and catch him at his own game.

But Harm rolled his plane back to the left and vicious game of aerial scissors developed as each pilot tried to gain the advantage.

Harm maintained his climb and at the last possible moment did a barrel roll that brought him above and in back of Nicole's plane.

Nicole swore softly as the warning warble changed to a flat tone.

"Damn Supergirl! He got us again!" Sandy's voice was full of awe and admiration.

"Yeah I heard," she muttered. Though she was aggravated with herself for falling prey to this Reservist, she had to admit he was damn good.

0600 Local

Northwest of Mirbullah

The Toyota Landcruiser sailed down the black ribbon of highway leaving Najaf. The last time Brad was on this highway was when the then CBS reporter was embedded with the 2nd Brigade Combat Team of the 3rd Infantry Division [Mechanized] as it raced the other way during the opening days of Operation Iraqi Freedom.

He and his passenger hadn't said very much to each other while negotiating their way through the Marine and Army checkpoints as they headed out of the city, but now that they were on the open road, Brad relaxed a little, though he still had to keep an eye out for any possible Improvised Explosive Devices [IEDs].

He stuck his hand out to the tall Latino Marine Gunnery Sergeant sitting next to him. "Brad Holliman, ZNN."

His passenger obviously felt more relaxed as well. "Gunnery Sergeant Victor Galindez", he replied shaking the younger man's hand. "I appreciate the ride Mr. Holliman, they weren't going to get that helo fixed anytime soon and I need to catch up with my unit as quickly as possible."

Brad took his eyes off the road for just a moment so he could make eye contact with the Gunny. "No problem," he said with a smile. "What unit did you say you were you with?"

Victor gave the man a brief smile in return before resuming his scan of the road. He didn't want them stumbling into an IED. "2nd Force Recon temporarily attached to the 36th MEU in Mirbullah."

Brad Holliman chuckled at his good fortune. "No kidding? That's where I'm headed…I'm meeting up with the correspondent who covered the court martial of that Cobra gunship crew."

Victor paused in his scanning and turned toward the driver. "Stuart Dunston?"

Brad rewarded the Gunny with another smile. "The one and only…say, would you be willing to give me interview on what it's like to be in Marine Force Recon, it'll be good publicity for the Marines…." (And what a feather in my cap this will be….)

The Marine Gunnery Sergeant resumed scanning the sides of the road, looking for anything unusual. "Only if my CO approves it, Mr. Holliman."

Stuart's replacement wasn't going to let a little reticence on the part of a Marine stand in his way of a potential exclusive. "I'm sure that…" Off to the side of the road, something was sticking up out of a sand-filled gully. The morning sun was making it difficult to see. "Hey, do you see that?" He said motioning with his chin.

Gunny immediately looked that direction. "See what?"

Brad motioned with his chin again. "That…sticking up out of that gully over on the right…."

Victor's eyes zeroed in on the cylindrical object sticking out of the gully. "Pull over, sir." He said tersely.

Brad knew better than to argue with the Marine. More than once when he was embedded with the 3rd Infantry, they had kept him from getting his head blown off. He figured this Gunnery Sergeant had spotted an IED. He carefully eased the Landcruiser off onto the shoulder of the highway.

Victor had his door open before the SUV had rolled to a stop. "Stay here Mr. Holliman," he ordered as he got out carrying his rifle, and moved toward the object.

Brad nodded. When he was sure the Gunny was far enough away, he grabbed his personal minicam off the seat and began filming as the Marine closed in on the object.

As Victor got closer to the object, his years in as a recon solider and law enforcement officer told him what he was seeing. An arm, a human arm sticking up out of the gully. The fingers were missing. As far as he could tell there weren't any protruding wires or other tell-tale signs that this was a gruesome IED.

Brad was having trouble seeing what the Gunnery Sergeant had found. Slowly, quietly he opened his door and resumed filming. Brad felt a flick of revulsion when he zoomed in on the object. It wasn't an IED. The ZNN Correspondent inadvertently fingered the door latch when he realized it was a body.

Victor heard the snick of the SUV's door latch. "Stay in the car, Mr. Holliman." He called over his shoulder as examined the arm. He wished he had a camera.

He turned around to look at the ZNN Correspondent who had disobeyed his request. Mr. Holliman was holding a minicam, pointed right at him.

Brad stopped filming for a moment. "Is he-?" The ZNN reporter wondered if the Marine was going to chew him out.

Gunny waved the man toward him. "Yes sir. Come over here, I need you to record this…."

Brad slowly made his way over to the Gunny, filming as he approached. "Shouldn't we call someone? Who is he?" The reporter said asking the obvious questions.

Gunny could see that all the fingers had been removed and the pattern of blood coloring the sand in back of the arm indicated the head was missing as well. Whoever did this wanted to be sure that except for being Caucasian, that the body couldn't be identified.

"I don't know, but yes sir, we should call someone…."

As the ZNN correspondent continued filming, Gunny fished his cell phone out of his pocket.

- TBC…


	61. Chapter 60

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 60

A/N1: Disclaimers and other vital information can be found in story archive for …FMS which can be found in the chapter story notes.

A/N2: **~~** indicates flashback or dream sequence ( ) indicates the thoughts of a person. *~* indicates a scene shift not otherwise indicated by a JAG time stamp. ~~~ indicates a dream sequence.

2058 Local

CIA Headquarters

Langley, Virginia

Clayton Webb was reviewing the latest analysis of terrorist 'chatter' from the Counter-Terrorism Information Network [CTIN] office. The CIA Special Agent rubbed his eyes, trying to stave off the urge to sleep. Usually he didn't have any problem with working through the evening, but last the two weeks had been particularly grueling.

He looked again at the report. There was definitely an increase in the 'chatter', that is, the communication between the various terrorist suspects that they had under surveillance. All the talk pointed to something 'big' that was going to happen…and soon.

He pushed his rolling chair back from his desk. He knew what the 'something big' was. Samir al-Sahood and Hammad Faoud al Harib had managed to spirit their chemical 'cocktail' out of the Darunta training camp in Afghanistan and as 'Rancher' had confirmed, they were in the process of attaching their warheads to missiles on board operational FROG and SCUD missile launchers…. Launchers that were hidden somewhere north of Mirbullah….

He swiveled around in his chair and looked at the physical relief map of southern and central Iraq tacked on his wall. Somewhere…. His eyes searched the geographic features around Mirbullah. But where? Where would be the best place to hide those missiles? All they had right now was vague report from a SEAL unit that a BMD personnel carrier had been spotted in the hills north Mirbullah at a place called Amariya….

He didn't hear Laurie June, his executive assistant, walk into his office.

"Um, Mr. Webb?" she said softly. She really hated disturbing him when he was like this.

Clay didn't move. He was lost in his study of the map.

"?" she gently tapped his shoulder. Clay turned to face her. "Sorry to interrupt you, sir, but Mr. Kershaw would like to see you…."

"Thanks, Laurie June," he said absently to her as he got up from his chair. She nodded silently, giving him a sympathetic smile. It was obvious his mind was elsewhere.

He looked beat. She wished he could help him with this mission, but he had made it clear he didn't want anybody else involved. Including her.

"Clayton," Harrison Kershaw looked up from the report he was reading. "I trust you're doing better." He motioned to the chair in front of his desk. "By the way, how is your hand?"

Clay looked down at his scarred hand. It remained steady. The new combination of drugs they were giving him seemed to be working. "Much better, thanks." He settled into the chair in front of the Deputy Director's large polished dark cherry desk.

The assistant that had let him in had quietly exited the room.

"What is the status with Arafat's former bodyguard?"

"Sadik has gone underground."

"As have you. I'm moving Hardy to the position of Station Chief of Paramaribo. Sadik knows too much about our operation in the Chaco Boreal."

Kershaw didn't add 'because of what Sadik might have learned from you'. But then, he didn't have to. The implication was already there. Clay could have told him that he didn't break, but it probably would not have done much good. He wondered if the Deputy Director still suspected that Edward Hardy might be a leak for their operations in Central and South America. Maybe by putting him there, he would more easily reveal himself…. Still, without Hardy's import – export business front, all the armed forces assets in the area would be without a logistical base.

"What about Colonel Bushnell's Tactical Analysis Team? Are you pulling them out as well?" Clay had to know if he had compromised the whole Paraguayan operation.

"No, not at all. The Colonel has other logistical points he can use." That didn't make the CIA Agent feel much better.

Kershaw gave him a rare paternal smile. "The truth is, we need you here. You're too valuable an asset to leave where Sadik could easily find you; that export office front had served its purpose...Raul Garcia is no longer a problem."

Satisfied that he had given Clayton Webb the answer he was seeking, Harrison Kershaw went back to reading his report. Then he closed the folder and laid it down in front on him on his desk pad. "Have you heard from Rabb lately?"

"I tried to contact him about thirty minutes ago. The ship-to-shore operator told me he wasn't available right now….

"Not available?" the Deputy Director seemed perturbed by that idea.

"He's, uh, out on dawn patrol," Clay hastily explained. It appeared that Kershaw had forgotten that Harm had been recalled.

"Dawn patrol? …oh yes, that's right, he was recalled to active flight duty…."

"Yes sir,"

"Well I guess he won't be much help to us…." It was obvious that Kershaw had written off Harmon Rabb, Jr. as an asset – for now. "What have you heard from "Rancher" lately?" he said shifting mental gears.

Clay flipped through Rancher's latest report. "She and Scimitar are still trying to pin down where al-Sahood has hidden his missiles….

Harrison Kershaw leaned forward. "Any leads?"

"Nothing solid yet."

"I don't need to remind you that we're running out of time," Harrison said as he got up out his chair and walked over to his window, looking out at the evening traffic heading in and out of the parking lot moving through the woods to the nearby highway. The late evening shift was coming in.

"No sir,"

"Agreeing to let Commander Rabb go back to JAG might have been a mistake. We need his expertise….

Clayton Webb felt himself bristle at that comment, part of him wanted to say, 'we don't need Rabb' but he knew that was just the undercurrent of jealously…part of his strange…friendship? with Harmon Rabb, Jr. Despite all they had been through in the last few years, he somehow still considered Harm a friend. Some people might wonder how many 'friends' try to steal the other's girlfriend…but then again, Sarah MacKenzie never made it clear she wasn't available….

Arrrgh…this kind of thinking wasn't getting him anywhere. He needed to focus on this meeting before the Deputy Director thought he might need a psych evaluation….

"I know sir, but he's been assigned as flight leader for a Fighter-Bomber squadron on the Patrick Henry," Clay reminded the Deputy Director.

"Yes, well, I guess the Navy needs him more at the moment than we do… I take it he was activated due to that influenza outbreak in Persian Gulf region. Do have anything more on where this bug came from?"

"Both the CDC and USAMRIID confirm it wasn't biological attack." Clay said getting up and joining him at the dark window. "And if it was, it was a miserable failure. The casualty rate has been less than 20 percent."

"But it has forced the Navy and Marine Corps to activate their Reserves…." The Deputy Director said thinking aloud.

"Yes sir," Webb said kicking himself for adding the 'miserable failure' part.

The Deputy Director gave the former Paramaribo Station Head a telling glance. "Then if it was deliberate, I wouldn't call it a complete failure, Clayton."

"Yes sir."

"Well, let's concentrate on more pressing matters, shall we?" He handed the CIA Agent a sheet of paper.

"I received a call from Deputy Director Green at DSD earlier this morning. He told me that Colonel MacKenzie has been attached to Lieutenant Colonel Livingston's Force Recon unit as a legal advisor and that they have joined the search for the missiles."

Clay tried to not let his surprise show. "I'd heard rumors to that effect." He handed the paper back to Kershaw.

Harrison Kershaw, of all people, knew how close his Special Agent and the Marine Judge Advocate had become as a result of what they had experienced at the hands of Sadik Fahd. He also knew that Clayton Webb would never let his true feelings show about her being involved in this hunt. He decided that pressing him any further on this matter wasn't beneficial for either of them. Besides he knew if it came down to it, Clayton Webb would do the right thing. Even if it meant sacrificing a woman he might have feelings for.

The Deputy Director had not reached this position without cost. And he knew Special Agent Webb and Colonel MacKenzie shared a bond much like he had had many, many years ago with a young woman who had saved his life.

"What do we know about the insurgent forces in the Mirbullah area?"

The CIA Special Agent was relieved that they were off the subject of Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie.

"We believe the Jihadist Salafies, in particular al Jihad and Jama'at al Tawhid wal Jihad, have joined forces or are providing support to a group of Republican Guard, former Iraqi Army troops and a cadre of Saddam Fedayeen from the central region in Iraq." 262

Kershaw didn't like the sound of that. "That means they're getting Iranian Revolutionary Guard support as well. How large of a group are we talking about?"

"Big. At least a battalion's worth of fighters."

"Are they in contact with al Sahood's cell?"

"Most likely, yes."

"Then that means they are also most likely in contact with the moles in that Marine Expeditionary Unit."

"Yes sir. And we're certain now that the mole, and/or moles, are in Colonel Livingston's Force Recon command staff." Clay wished he didn't have to qualify that statement, but the truth was, they still weren't sure how many moles they were dealing with.

"We're sure?"

"Absolutely." Clay wondered about the wisdom of using that word as soon as it left his mouth. Still, he forged ahead. "The traffic that CTIN picked up in the last few days indicates encrypted messages being sent to and from someone in Livingston's command staff."

"Can we pinpoint who?"

"Rancher, Scimitar and the SEAL team have been unsuccessful in their efforts so far. Not without having someone on the inside…" Somehow the conversation had revolved full circle back to Colonel MacKenzie.

"Clayton, we need to find out who exactly those moles are. Can you get in touch with Colonel MacKenzie?"

Webb cleared his throat. "It'll be tricky sir, but I'll try." He hoped Sergeant Reyes was still on duty. The Sergeant was a well-connected set of eyes and ears in the 36th MEU and could find out almost anything he asked.

Harrison Kershaw gave Webb a sharp look. "Don't *try*, Special Agent Webb, *do*."

"Yes sir."

0530 Local

BOQ/VOQ, Camp Chest Puller

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Gibbs had gotten a few hours of sleep until his dreams had interrupted his slumber. Dreams of Shannon with her beautiful flowing red hair and Kelly with her exuberant, sunny, innocent smile.

They were disturbing only because in his sleep he knew they were dead even as they spoke to him. And yet, they seemed so real…so alive.

He woke up to find himself in his dark humid and dusty Visitor Officer Quarters. Parched, he reached over for his canteen. As he started to open it, he stopped, examining it's smooth surface.

It was not like the one he had back at NCIS Headquarters...the one with a bullet embedded in the etched remembrance from his dead wife and daughter. Shannon and Kelly had given that canteen as present just before he had gone Kuwait to participate in Desert Shield/Desert Storm. The bullet embedded in the canteen came later - it may have even been a harbinger of things to come. (Boy, there's a negative thought for first thing in the morning….)

The dream had left an air of depression pressing down on him as well as the urge to have a shot of whiskey. He shook his head.

(No.)

He wasn't going to let anger and sadness drag him down. Not now. Not during the middle of an investigation.

He shoved himself up off his bed and began doing push-ups. He'd think about having that drink later…when all this was over.

0550 Local

36th MEU SJA Office

Camp Chesty Puller

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

When Gibbs walked into the SJA Office, a Lance Corporal looked up from his paperwork.

"They're in conference right now with SJA Iraq, sir." he said indicating that Major Barnett and Captain Johnson were unavailable at the moment.

As if on cue, Colonel Gordon Cresswell's iron voice could be heard through the thin wooden door. Obviously they were having a conference call with the senior SJA.

"Today gentlemen!"

"Aye, aye, Colonel!" The junior Marine judge advocates responded simultaneously.

Everyone in the SJA office looked up. Gibbs smiled. He didn't know the senior SJA in Iraq all that well, but what he heard through that door indicated Cresswell didn't think very much of Barnett and Johnson's performance to date, either.

As the door to the inner office opened everyone in the outer area, except Gibbs, found a reason to look extra busy.

Vince Barnett let an 'oh crap' look flit through his features. "Good morning Special Agent," he said smoothly.

The senior NCIS Agent was used to this kind of response. A standard 'good morning sir' while split second looks of irritation, or in some cases outright disgust, told how they really felt. It really didn't matter that much to him – he wasn't here to win any popularity contests.

"Has Commander Turner arrived yet?" The tone was gruff, no-nonsense.

"He's, uh, with, um, former Special Agent…that is…the suspect right now."

Gibbs could tell that the Captain was nervous and honestly trying to help him. Part of him was also glad that this Navy JAG attorney, Turner, was so on the ball. As long as he didn't try to turn Phillips into his client….

"Thank you, Captain."

Gibbs didn't say anything to the Major as he walked past them toward the interrogation room.

Mac watched as the KC-130 swung around and came in low, nearly touching down. As it skimmed over the sand and rocks, the rear cargo door opened a little wider. In quick succession, a drogue chute deployed and a giant pallet slid down the plane's ramp and out the back. This was immediately followed by a second extraction chute and pallet.

Both slid along the rough ground, kicking up clouds of sand and rocks as their chutes fully deployed, slowing their journey.

"Right on the money, Pelican one!" called out the Master Gunnery Sergeant over his radio, "We're good to go!"

The KC-130 picked up speed and assisted by its auxiliary jets, rocketed back into the sky, heading in an easterly direction back toward Mirbullah. In few short minutes, it was gone from sight.

He looked over at Mac and the others. "Okay, you 'Recruits'! Grab your gear and begin loosening the straps on those trucks! Hop to it!"

Mac and the others leapt aboard the now stationary pallet sleds and attacked the fastening straps with zeal.

Gibbs and Sturgis were drinking cups of lukewarm, albeit Marine-grade coffee. Their interrogation of Sederick Phillips this morning had yielded precious little useful information. Most of what he told them had come out during the Cobra crew's court martial.

Cresswell had detailed a fresh young 1st Lieutenant to be Phillips' counsel, so that everything was done "by the book", but he really hadn't proved to be that much help to the former NCIS Agent-in-Charge.

Sturgis took another sip of the tepid drink and made a face. "We could try good cop, bad cop again."

Gibbs smirked. "Which do you want to be this time?" He drained his cup.

The JAG Corps attorney put his down. "His refusal to cooperate makes me want to play bad cop."

As they were about to get up and go back to interrogation, Anthony DiNozzo made his way into the SJA's break room.

"DiNozzo, where have you been?" Gibbs asked pointedly

"Following up on a lead, Boss. I told Lieutenant Roberts to tell you that I was going with him."

If that was supposed to appease the senior Agent, it didn't. "*You* tell me when you're headed off somewhere, got it?"

"Got it, Boss."

Gibbs raised then lowered his now empty cup. He threw scowl in Tony's direction. Special Agent DiNozzo looked confused. Gibbs threw his subordinate an exasperated look. "What did you learn?"

"Oh! Well, Lieutenant Roberts and I went to Bahrain and talked to Commander Lexington at the NLSO Detachment…"

This time Gibbs didn't raise his empty cup. It doesn't look good to look foolish in front of subordinates.

"And?"

"And Lieutenant Roberts figured out a coded message system that Captain Branch had used…. You should have seen him Gibbs, it was like something right out of a spy movie, you know, James Bond? 007? Tony's voice morphed into a fairly good impression of Sean Connery. "'shaken, not stirred'?"

The senior NCIS Agent was usually more entertained by Tony's impersonations, but Gibbs was still angry with him going to Bahrain. "I get it DiNozzo; so how does this help our case?" he said dismissively.

"Well uh, it's like this, Boss; that JAGMAN team sent by the Bahrain NLSO OIC was compromised even before they could start their investigation. Captain Branch had the presence of mind to find some way to record it, only he didn't know how to tell anyone about it."

"If it hadn't been for Lieutenant Roberts, we never would have cracked the code." It was obvious that Tony had a new-found respect for the junior JAG Corps attorney.

"You couldn't have figured it out yourself, DiNozzo?"

"I'm good at crossword puzzles, Boss, and uh, not very good with those kind…of puzzles."

"What kind of puzzles?"

"What Special Agent DiNozzo is telling you, Gibbs, is that Lieutenant Roberts is very good at cryptological puzzles." Sturgis said, feeling a small tug of pride for Bud Roberts. "He always has been."

"Yeah Boss, you should've seen him, it was zip, zip, zip. He had the code and the message figured out in few minutes, max."

Gibbs cocked a doubting eyebrow at his ex-Baltimore PD subordinate. "A few minutes, DiNozzo?"

"Well, maybe it was more like five minutes…" Tony hedged, looking away from Gibbs' intense stare.

"Get down to the holding cells and find out what Corporal Richards knows."

"Right Boss," Tony said as his made a move toward the exit. He was glad to get out from under the 'ole Gibbs stare'.

As Tony headed out the door, he ran headlong into Lieutenant Roberts.

"Sorry Lieutenant," Tony said quickly as he exited the room. Bud turned to look at Tony DiNozzo hurrying down the hallway. He then looked back toward Gibbs and Sturgis – a puzzled stare was still etched on his face.

"Good job in Bahrain, Bud." Sturgis said moving toward the junior JAG Corps officer.

"Huh? Oh, thank you, sir…"

"Did you have something for us, Lieutenant?" Gibbs said trying to jostle the young JAG back to the present.

Bud only looked momentarily embarrassed. "Here's a package Commander Rabb asked me to give to you and Commander Turner…and there's been another murder. A body was just found north of here on the highway to Najaf."

Gibbs and Sturgis shared blank expressions as Sturgis took the package. "Who found the body, Lieutenant?" The former Bubblehead asked.

"Gunny did, sir." Bud said automatically. As if he knew what Gibbs was going to ask, he automatically clarified his statement. "Uh, that is Gunnery Sergeant Galindez did, sir."

Sturgis' tone betrayed his surprise. "Gunny is here in Iraq?" Gibbs wanted to ask who this Gunny was, but he thought it best to learn through observing at this point.

"Yes sir, he was catching a ride to his unit with a ZNN correspondent when they came across the body."

"Do they know who it is, Lieutenant?"

Bud remembered Gibbs from when he was interrogated about Commander Rabb's connection to Lieutenant Singer. His blurted out comment regarding Singer and sex, which had come out sounding very Clinton-esque, still stung. He wanted to show this man just who Bud J. Roberts was.

"No sir," Bud said firmly, trying to sound like every bit of the professional military lawyer that he was. "The body missing its head and fingers."

0625 Local

Persian Gulf

As they finished up their maneuvers, Nicole's voice came over the radio.

"We've got visitors coming up from our five o'clock low…."

"I see them…"

Harm watched as two Iranian F-14A's pulled alongside their planes.

Jeff took out his camera and started taking pictures as they flew side by side.

"Hey Hammer, his RIO is doing the same thing…."

Harm looked over at the Tomcat flying next to him. "I'm not surprised…."

The Iranian pilot lifted his visor and unhooked his oxygen mask. Then he lifted his right hand and shot Harm a peace sign.

The aviator/lawyer looked back at the pilot and gave him a guarded salute.

The bearded pilot's face grew sullen. Finally, he returned Harm's salute.

In a moment, the two Iranian Tomcats folded back their wings and went to full afterburner, rocketing away from the two American F-14's.

"Wow…." Commented Jeff as the two 'Cats disappeared from sight.

Nicole's voice came over the radio again.

"Hammer, what did you do that guy?"

Harm looked over at Nicole who was now flying wing to wing with him and gave her a slight grin. "Not a thing, Supergirl. I even saluted him."

Lieutenant Ebbits' Force Recon Team had finished backing their two Dodge pick-up trucks off the landing platforms and were making final checks on them to assure both were mission capable, when Master Gunnery Sergeant Rudy Wilbane motioned for the group to form a semi-circle around him.

Mac and the others quickly complied.

Rudy was all smiles. "Congrats Recruits, you have now joined the Iraqi insurgency. The vehicles you will be using today are similar to the technicals that we will see the insurgents using, that is, if we see them."

One of the team that Mac hadn't met yet, spoke up. "Whaddya mean *if* we see them, Master Guns?"

The Master Gunnery Sergeant shook his head as if he had just heard the stupidest question in the world. "Son, sometimes you bump right into these guys and other times they just seem to disappear into the landscape…"

Another Marine ventured to ask a question. "Hey Master Guns, aren't we gonna stick out, kinda like sore thumbs? I mean, we aren't exactly native looking, you know."

Rudy's smile disappeared. "Not if you stow your gear in the truck beds and put that greasepaint on like I told you to do, Mickens." He snorted.

That ended the questions.

Mac and Kayce pushed their hair up under their head garb and then began to liberally apply the greasepaint to their faces. While they did this, the Master Gunnery Sergeant continued their briefing.

"…we're visiting the neighboring village of Amariya today, people. Stay loose and alert. Keep your ears open for any news of an upcoming attack or any other hostile movement against Coalition forces. If you hear anything, squawk your radio once. When we're done for the day, I'll squawk my radio twice. Everybody got it?"

As Ebbits stood in the background, the Master Gunnery Sergeant's order's were met with affirmative responses.

"All right! Let's move out, Recruits!"

As Mac moved toward the second pick-up truck that Kayce was boarding, Lieutenant Ebbits walked over to intercept her. "Colonel, you ride in Sergeant Williams' truck with the Master Guns. I'll ride with Danvers and O'Grady."

Mac figured that Ebbits was separating them to see how the Marine Judge Advocate would take having her 'buddy' taken away.

"No problem, Lieutenant," she sullenly replied, getting into her 'spoiled officer' act.

Carlson Ebbits shook his head and let out a frustrated hiss. "You don't like me much, do you, Colonel?"

Mac gave him a senior officer glare. "I don't have an opinion, one way or the other, Lieutenant."

Carlson gave Mac a pained expression. "Well, I'll be blunt with you, MacKenzie; I don't like you."

He held up his hand to stifle her protest. "Before you start going feminist on me, Colonel, let me clarify; I don't like any of the Colonel's 'pets' that breeze in and out of here, pretty as you please. I think you and the others will fold like a lawn chair, ma'am, when the pressure gets too great…."

Instead of being irked by at his condescending tone, she was curious about his statement regarding so many "'pets' breezing through here". "How many have come through your unit?"

He gave her a sarcastic look and then seemed to think better of it and shook his head. "Hell Colonel, I've lost count. We get them, we take them on one or two missions, they screw up and we kick them out. If you ask me, ma'am, it's a waste of time and resources we can't afford."

So this unit was a training cadre for new recruits and maybe Livingston was using it for something else as well. More and more it looked like Darcy Livingston was the person who might be responsible for all the chaos and mayhem that had occurred around here lately, but Mac needed more….

"Well don't worry Lieutenant; I promise I won't screw up your mission."

Carlson didn't know what to make of that comment. Mac could tell he was conflicted.

"Just keep alert like the Master Guns said, Colonel, and you'll do fine." he finally said. "You'd better get aboard, ma'am."

Mac walked over to the first pick-up truck and got in next to Sergeant Williams. The Master Guns and three other members of the team were loading ammunition belts into the machine gun mounted on a stand in the back of the truck.

"Let's go Sergeant," Mac said to the driver.

"Aye ma'am."

The two vehicle convoy moved out, front tires spinning in the dusty soil until they caught a foothold.

0630 Local

Highway to Najaf

Gunny had secured the possible crime scene as best he could. There had been some yellow twine in the back of the Landcruiser and he used that to as makeshift crime scene tape. The ZNN reporter had stopped filming for now and was standing with his butt resting against the hood of their SUV. Mr. Holliman didn't know it yet, but the criminal investigators who would be arriving soon would most likely confiscate his minicam and its cassette tape.

The sound of approaching HMMWV's made Victor stand up and turn around. Coming down the highway toward him were three squad carriers – two of which had flashing blue lights on their dashboards.

Instinctively Brad lowered his minicam and popped open the case, palming the video cassette and dropping it into the deep pocket of his fatigues.

Two MPs, a Captain, and Major got out of the two lead HMMWVs. Sturgis Turner, Bud Roberts and Leroy Jethro Gibbs emerged from the third one.

"Commander Turner, Lieutenant Roberts," Gunny said saluting. "I wish we were meeting under better circumstances."

"Likewise, Gunny," said Turner returning the salute.

"Where is the body, Gunnery Sergeant?" asked Major Barnett, not able to see the victim from where they stood.

"This way, sir, over here in the gully…."

As Gunny lead the JAG Corps officers and Marine SJAs over to the headless corpse, the silver haired NCIS Agent walked over to Brad Holliman.

"Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS," Gibbs said as he flipped out his wallet containing his identification card and badge and held it in front of the reporter.

The correspondent held out his hand. "Brad Holliman, ZNN, Southwest Asia correspondent."

"I'll take that tape you made, Mr. Holliman." Gibbs said holding out his hand.

The ZNN Reporter popped open the mini-camera, and handed the NCIS Agent the tape. "I know better than to argue with NCIS, Special Agent Gibbs."

Gibbs smiled. "That's good, Brad, because I'll also need that tape you slipped into your pants pocket."

Sturgis looked up as the ZNN Correspondent reluctantly handed over the second tape. He exchanged grins with Gunny. "So what was it like riding with Mr. Holliman?"

"He wanted to interview me," Victor said trying to sound like he was in awe of the ZNN reporter. "He said it would be good publicity for the Marines."

"You don't say," Sturgis deadpanned. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him I would have to check with my CO, sir."

"So what do we have here, Gunnery Sergeant?" asked Captain Johnson as he moved closer to the disfigured body.

"A headless Caucasian, sir," Victor answered, becoming all business. " It's a male; I'd estimate between thirty and forty years of age…"

Floyd Johnson got as close as he could to the body without disturbing Gunny's impromptu crime scene tape. The MEU SJA pulled out a notepad and began sketching the scene. "Let's see what else we can find out about him…."

"Yes sir."

"How did you find him, Gunny?" Bud asked, squatting down to get a better look the sand caked figure. The junior JAG Corps officer had seen dismembered bodies before, but the savageness of it always unnerved him. How could someone do this to another human being?

"Mr. Holliman saw his arm sticking up out of the ditch, Lieutenant. We thought it was an IED until we stopped and got a closer look."

Barnett lowered his camera and motioned to the two MPs. "Let's see if we can get him out of there."

The two MPs, having donned work gloves, began pulling the body from the sand filled gully.

Sturgis looked at the gruesome figure. Despite their having succeeded in pulling it from its sand pit, they still didn't know who the sand caked victim was.

"His underwear is standard issue." Bud reported as the MEU SJA Captain continued sketching.

"Well, now we know he wasn't a civilian contractor…." Barnett grunted. He'd never tell anyone, but his gruffness was a shield to keep the horror he was seeing from incapacitating him.

"That we know of," Gibbs added as he joined the little group.

"Hey, do you see that?" One of the MPs stopped pulling at the body and pointed.

"See what?" his partner snapped, he was somewhat irritated his co-worker had stopped moving the body. He wanted this detail over and done with.

The first MP pointed at what looked like a puncture wound. "That; on his right shoulder blade…."

Gibbs motioned to Major Barnett, lifted the crime scene tape and together they walked over to the two MPs. The MEB SJA got several good shots of the wound. "Looks like…that looks like a scar" he said pausing.

Johnson stopped sketching. "A scar?" Bud and Sturgis exchanged questioning looks.

Gibbs bent closer to look at the wound. "Looks like someone tried to slash it with a knife…"

"Here comes the doc…." said the first MP at the approach of the soft top HMMWV ambulance.

"Captain…." Sturgis said greeting the Medical Corps officer as he got out of the HMMWV along with two Corpsmen.

"Where's the body?" The doctor said tiredly. Obviously, he wasn't a morning person.

"Over here, sir," Gunny replied, leading him and the Corpsmen over to Gibbs, Barnett, and the two MPs

The doctor sighed disgustedly and shook his head. "Did anyone find the head?"

"Not yet, sir." reported the first MP. "We're still looking."

He nodded. "Good; keep an eye out for the fingers as well…."

"Commander…." Gibbs moved away from the group and toward the MEU doctor.

The tired Lieutenant Commander threw Gibbs a suspicious look. "And you are?"

Gibbs flipped open his wallet and showed him his badge. "Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS."

The doctor nodded. "I take it you're the lead investigator…." Behind them, the Corpsmen were helping the MPs gently load the body onto a stretcher. Bud and Sturgis had joined Gibbs.

"I'm part of a joint JAG-NCIS investigation into the Mirbullah deaths." He nodded his acknowledge of the two JAGs presence. "I'm working with Commander Sturgis Turner and Lieutenant Roberts from Navy JAG Corps."

The doctor gave another tired sigh. "Then you know my predecessor who was charged with falsifying records…left me a hell of a mess to clean up…."

Gibbs nodded. "Yes sir, I do."

The tired Lieutenant Commander noted that Gibbs and the JAGs looked all business. "And I bet you're wanting a time of death, right, Special Agent?"

Gibbs was non-plussed about the Commander's attitude. "It would be helpful to our case, Captain."

"I'll do what I can," he almost mumbled. "But I'm not promising any miracles…."

"Sir?" It was one of the Corpsmen.

"Yes, Petty Officer?"

"Could you take a look at this wound on the victim's back? The Sergeant thinks it might be something important…."

"What is it, Sergeant?"

"It looks like someone tried to cut it off or something. Special Agent Gibbs and Major Barnett think it might be a scar…."

The doctor moved over to the stretcher along with the JAGs and the NCIS Agent. He leaned over the body and began to gently brush the sandy grit away from the disfigured scar. "I'd go with the 'or something,' Sergeant…." The doctor replied clinically.

"Agent Gibbs, Commander Turner, you might want to see this…." Both men looked over the Commander's shoulder. Captain Johnson moved a bit closer so he could sketch the wound. Barnett took a few more photos.

"You see these marks?" The doctor said pointing to the cuts around the scar. "Someone tried to obliterate this…."

Sturgis nodded his agreement. "All they did was make it more obvious…."

"What else can you tell us about the scar, Captain?" Gibbs wanted more details.

The doctor didn't look up at Gibbs, instead focusing his attention on the wound. "I can tell you this much…this wound was made after his death."

Sturgis looked closer at the wound. "Can you match the scar to anyone in the unit?"

The doctor looked up at Captain Johnson and Major Barnett and then back at the former Bubblehead. "It'll take some time, sir, but if you could loan me some help…."

"I'll help you, sir," Bud volunteered. "What do you need me to do?"

The doctor nodded his acceptance. "We should be able to find what we need in the MEU personnel medical records database. Lieutenant if you can work on that, I can go about finding out more about what happened to our Marine…."

{part two 24c}

Persian Gulf

"We've got more company coming, Hammer."

"Where?"

"Eight o'clock low, moving up toward us…"

"I see him…"

Harm watched as a Kuwaiti Air Force A-4KU Skyhawk streaked into his line of sight.

The aviator/lawyer turned his head to his left to get a good look at the Kuwaiti pilot. Harm was stunned into silence. Looking back at him from an F-4 Phantom was a swarthy version of his father.

Was this an omen? Maybe Mac's dream was a warning. Maybe Dad was trying to do the same!

Then he saw the pilot mouth the words … 'not yet'

"Hey Hammer!" It was his Radar Intercept Officer, more euphemistically known as the 'Guy in Back'

Harm felt as if a fogbank in his mind had suddenly lifted. "Huh?"

"He's giving you the thumbs up sign, Hammer…."

Harm looked at the pilot again. This time it wasn't his father he saw staring back at him from a Phantom fighter jet, but a mustachioed puzzled Kuwaiti pilot in a Skyhawk.

Harm slowly gave him a thumbs-up signal.

The man smiled warmly, then reconnected his oxygen mask and lowered his visor before breaking off to the left and picking up speed.

"Wow, there he goes!" commented Jeff. "He pushed that thing into overdrive, didn't he, Hammer?"

There was no response from the Commander. Jeff wondered what was going on with this legal eagle.

"Hammer?"

"Yeah?" Harm said distractedly

"Hammer, what's up with you?" Jeff wondered for a moment if Harm might be suffering from oxygen deprivation. "Hey, are you all right?"

Harm chuckled nervously trying to assure Jeff everything was okay. "Yeah, sure. He just startled me, Pitcher, that's all…"

"Supergirl to Hammer; fun's over, big guy. Time to head for the barn and get some breakfast. I heard we're having pancakes this morning and I'm buying…"

"You're on Supergirl; take the lead."

"Roger Wilco, Hammer."

Their movement to the initial rally point, a three sided hill which was adjacent to their objective, Hill 520, was uneventful. As they bounced along, Mac fought hard not to wince. Those pains in the small of her back, which had bothered her when she and Harm were looking at Lieutenant Lukens Cobra gunship, had returned.

As she tried to cope with the flash of pain, she tried to mentally recall what might have caused this. It could be that her parachute landing had aggravated whatever injury she had suffered in the Chaco Boreal when she and Clay had tried to rescue Gunny. That was one possibility. Or when she and Harm crashed after they had destroyed that semi-truck full of Stinger missiles. It could also be that she landed hard on her side, but she honestly didn't remember coming down so hard that it would hurt like this.

Whatever it was, this truck's rough ride wasn't helping it.

The light Colonel glanced over at Sergeant Williams. If he had noticed her discomfort, he didn't say anything about it.

(C'mon Marine, suck it up!) she told herself. It wouldn't look good for her to wimp out now.

Sergeant Williams drove up the slope of the hill and stopped just before he reached the crest. The Dodge pick-up with Lieutenant Ebbits and Casey did the same. The Recon soldiers dismounted from their vehicles and crawled to the crest of the hill.

Ebbits, Mac, and Wilbane pulled out their binoculars and Kayce set up her rifle while O'Grady set up his spotter gear. All five scanned the reverse side of their hill and then swept back and forth, checking out the base of the next waypoint, Hill 515.

"So far, so good, right sir?" Rudy said grinning.

Carlson wasn't ready to celebrate yet. "When we get to Hill 522, I'll be happy, Master Guns, and not until then."

"Aye, sir."

"Colonel, have Calapango and Mickens scout down our reverse slope and over to that wadi halfway between here and our IRP."

"Aye, aye, Lieutenant." she turned to the two Marine scouts. "You heard the Lieutenant. Radio when you get to the wadi."

"Aye, aye, Colonel." the men replied. They crawled over the ridge of the slope and headed down the other side.

"Danvers-"

"Way ahead of you, sir. I'll keep a lookout for any bandits."

"Outstanding, Corporal." He turned back to Mac. "Let's hope our Baathist friends are still asleep at this hour…."

As they watched Mickens and Calapango make their way to the wadi, Kayce acted as if she was readjusting her sniper scope. "Here ma'am," she hissed. As she did, she pushed a small bottle of pills toward Mac.

Before the light Colonel could say anything, Kayce continued. "I saw that pained expression and figured the curse is hitting you hard this month. Maybe you forgot your grunt candy when we packed this morning…."

Mac didn't say anything or look at Kayce, but she did surreptitiously palm the small medicine bottle.

Harm was climbing down from his cockpit. Man, it felt good to be back in the air again…he tried not to let his 'vision' ruin those good feelings. Still it was disturbing. All this time, all these years, he had hoped to see his father one last time. So why was Harmon Rabb, Senior, picking now to make his appearance? Was he running a fever and didn't realize it?

His reverie was interrupted by his brown jersey wearing Plane Captain. "How did it feel getting back up there, sir?"

"Like heaven, Petty Officer,'" Harm replied jocularly, trying to keep up that cocky image of fighter pilots.

But he really didn't feel that cocky at the moment.

"Hey Hammer!"

Harm turned to see Nicole and Sandy moving toward him.

"That was some mighty fancy flying there, Commander!" Sandy said in fake southern belle drawl. Nicole snorted.

Harm noted the derisive cough. "What about you, Supergirl? What did you think about my flying?"

"Not bad for a reservist!" She'd give him that much, but in her eyes he was still a black shoe legal weenie. "I'm buyin' aren't I?"

"Yes, you are!" Harm wished he had a cigar right now.

Behind them, another pair of Tomcats were being launched. Noise, steam and smoke dominated the deck.

"Hey you guys, I-"

Before Sandy could say another word, she doubled over and heaved her morning coffee onto the deck in front of them.

Harm and Nicole looked aghast as Sandy continued dry heaving.

"Corpsman!" barked Nicole. Several of the white jersey deck crew ran to toward the island. Another grabbed a bucket and ran towards her.

Harm reached Dust Storm's side first. "Sandy! Are you all right?"

Sandy was wiping her mouth. "Boy, that sure tasted better coming up than it did going down," She said weakly to him.

A junior petty officer wearing a white jersey thrust the bucket under her mouth. "Right in here ma'am!"

Two other white jerseys were already wiping down the deck.

Nicole was now on the other side of her RIO, she felt Sandy's forehead. "You're burning up!" She gave Dust Storm a harsh look. "Were you this sick when we took off this morning?"

"No ma'am…." Sandy said quietly. Hit me…just as we landed…thought it was something else…."

"Let me take a look at her, Commander!" It was the Chief Medical Officer and a corpsman. He gave her a quick examination. But then he didn't need to do much to tell that had fallen victim to the influenza that was ravaging the fleet.

"Pardon the interruption, doc," Sandy gasped, "But I think I'm gonna hurl again…." And with that Sandy heaved into the bucket provided by the petty officer.

The CMO looked at the orderly. "Get her down to isolation immediately!" He ordered. Then he turned to Nicole. "How are you feeling?"

"Never better!" Nicole lied. Truthfully, seeing Sandy ralph like that made her a little queasy, but she'd never let the doc know it.

He nodded, accepting her bravado, for now. Then he looked at Harm. "How about you, Commander?"

"I'm all right!"

"Good! Get those hands washed ASAP! Both of you!"

"Aye, aye, sir!"

The CMO gave Supergirl knowing look. He knew she wouldn't report being sick unless she was on her death bed. "Commander, if you feel the least bit queasy later on, report to the infirmary! That's an order!"

"Aye sir!"

As the CMO headed after his Hospital Mate and Sandy, Harm and Nicole exchanged worried looks. Just how many others were going to succumb to this bug?

-TBC…


	62. Chapter 61

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 61

Forward Operating Base – Metz

Alpha Company positions

1st Lieutenant Edgar Sloan looked through his binoculars again. This was the first time Captain Lewis had put him in charge of the FOB. He wanted to make a good impression on the skipper and show him he was up to the task. He looked again at the glowing lights of the two closest houses. The Hassan brothers [as he called them] were at it again. They were running back and forth between those two fortress-like houses that flanked the entrance to Amariya.

Usually when the 'Hassan brothers' started this routine, it was usually followed by a round of probing fire directed at FOB Metz.

But today, instead of just taking the probing fire [as they had been for days] Captain Lewis gave him permission to respond in kind. And, when he received a signal from Colonel Livingston, he was supposed to order his mortar units to fire smoke shells at those houses as well.

He didn't much care for Colonel Livingston. Sloan thought she was one cold fish. She acted like she cared. The key word here was 'acted'. She acted concerned, she acted human…he wasn't all that impressed with her 'acting' skills.

As for the Cap'n…Sloan would never say this to anyone else, but the Skipper gave him the creeps. His orders seemed normal enough, though. Fire all available mortars as soon as you hear from Colonel Livingston. At least now they were doing something. All this watching and waiting made him antsy….

With Bud's help, the new MEU doctor was able find what they were looking for; their victim was Charles J. Rathum; Sergeant, 2nd Force Recon. Serial number 0422177-325.

Bud printed a hard copy of the man's medical record and then hurried over to the MEU's NCIS office. The junior JAG attorney also carried with him a copy of the doctor's preliminary findings – Sergeant Rathum had been shot. From the powder residue found on the Sergeant's shoulder blades, it had to have been in the head at close range.

It was Ebbits SUVs' turn to take the lead. Owl Four (Ebbits' call sign) pulled ahead of Mac's pickup headed toward the next hill listed on their orders.

His truck started up the sandy hill smoothly enough, but it quickly lost ground and slid to the side.

"The El-tee's truck has hit a soft spot," Mac observed. She was practicing her role using Williams as her guinea pig. She was supposed to be a 'loose cannon' and with this gnawing pain in her backside it was hard maintaining her 'role'. She hoped she wouldn't make a fatal mistake.

Mac watched as the driver of the other pickup, Corporal Burges, stopped his forward momentum and let the weight of the truck carry it back down to more solid ground.

Both Mac and Sergeant Williams breathed a sigh of relief. Digging out a stuck pickup truck was not on their agenda, nor did they want that to be added.

Carlson got out and looked at Mac's truck for moment, then he motioned them forward. As they came even with his pickup, he gave them a wry look.

"Try not to repeat my success, Sergeant…." he told Mac's driver.

"Aye sir," he replied. Then he turned to Mac. "Tell the guys topside to hang on tight, ma'am; this might get bumpy…"

"Secure yourselves," Mac said as she stuck her head out of the window.

As soon as the words were out of her mouth and she was back in her seat, Sergeant Williams gunned the Dodge's engine and sailed up the questionable slope.

He looked over at a stunned Mac. "The trick is ma'am to go fast enough so you don't bog down!"

"And how do we stop once we get to the top of this rise Sergeant!" Mac was able to bite out as she grabbed on for dear life.

But the Sergeant didn't answer her as they bounded up the slope and arrived at the top of the rise with a resounding ker-thunk! Mac thought her jaw had become unhinged. Oddly, her mind reported that her back wasn't bothering her anymore at the moment….

The driver looked at Mac. "Are you all right ma'am?" he asked.

From the back of the truck came a shaky voice. "Are we alive?"

The Master Guns broke into a harsh laugh. "If you can speak, son, then you're alive!"

Mac gave the driver a less than reassuring smile. "Let's see if we can avoid doing that again, Sergeant."

The Sergeant flashed her an embarrassed look. "Understood ma'am."

In the meantime, Lieutenant Ebbits truck rolled to the top of the rise. The Lieutenant had a big smile on his face.

"Forgot to tell you, Colonel; Sergeant Williams was an off-road racer before he joined the Marines…."

Sloan tried to dig deeper into his foxhole. Machineguns in both the fortified houses chattered, kicking up clods of dirt and fountains of sand around the Marine positions.

"Able sentry one, taking machinegun and small arms fire from the village!" he barked into his radio.

"Wait one, able sentry…." the responding voice replied.

The cough of mortars could be heard across the front of Forward Operation Base Metz.

Sloan dug out his binoculars again and moved over to an observation position. He watched with grim satisfaction as his unit's 60 millimeter and 81 millimeter mortar rounds began impacting all around the two fortified houses. Maybe that would shut up the 'Hassan brothers' for a while….

Harm went down to Sick Bay. He wanted to see how Sandy was doing after her 'performance' on the flight deck. When he walked through the doorway, the CMO looked up from a report he was typing.

"Are you all right, Commander?" he said with a hint of concern in his voice as he started to rise.

Harm gave the doc a wry smile and motioned for him to sit back down. "Sorry; I just wanted to see how Lieutenant Ribkins was doing…."

"I understand. Well, she's responding to the medicine we gave her to keep her from throwing up," the CMO replied sitting back down. "But, she's still going to have to stay in quarantine for a while."

Harm nodded and turned to go.

"Commander?"

The tall attorney/aviator stopped and turned back to the doctor.

"There's someone down here who has been asking if you're on board…"

"Who?"

"Lieutenant Commander Hawkes. Do you know her?"

When Bud arrived in the NCIS office, Gibbs and Sturgis were back to interrogating Sedrick Phillips. He could hear their voices behind the closed door. Sedrick was apparently responding to a question asked by Gibbs.

"I do not know anything about this body you have found, Special Agent Gibbs. We're in Iraq; there are plenty of decapitated bodies out there in the desert…"

Gibbs wasn't buying his innocent act. Or at least he was acting like it. "How about ones wearing US military issue underwear?"

Then Bud heard a voice he didn't know. "I asked you before, Special Agent Gibbs, not to badger my client." Then he remembered that was most likely the SJA 1st Lieutenant that Colonel Cresswell had detailed for Sedrick Phillips' defense.

"I will answer his question. He could have been a soldier killed during the initial fighting, Special Agent Gibbs, and declared missing. Desert bandits might have stolen his clothes…."

"But why desecrate his body, Mr. Phillips?" Asked Sturgis' sonorous voice.

"Perhaps they were allies of Saddam. Revenge of some sort…"

Bud was still trying to decide whether or not to knock when Gibbs opened the door and came face to face with the Lieutenant.

Gibbs' expression flared ominously for a moment and Bud took an involuntary step backwards.

"What is it Lieutenant?" He said quickly shutting the door and ushering the junior officer down the hallway so that Sturgis and more importantly, Sedrick Phillips, could not hear what Bud had to say.

"Sorry to interrupt, sir." Bud said respectfully. "Here are the preliminary findings from the MEU doctor and the victim's medical record."

Bud didn't know about Gibbs' rules for never interrupting an interrogation, but then Gibbs had stepped out of the room, so technically he wasn't interrogating a suspect.

Gibbs took the papers from Bud's hands and quickly scanned them.

"He was with 2nd Force Recon?"

"Yes sir and I found something else while I was getting that information-"

"What?" Gibbs wanted the junior JAG officer to cut to the chase.

"It's on the last sheet, sir," Bud replied helpfully

Gibbs flipped to the last page. He only read it a moment before he turned and headed back to the interrogation room.

Lieutenant Ebbits drew a simplistic map of the area in the sand. The Master Guns and Mac, as well of the rest of the recon team stood huddled around the CO. "The SEAL Team says they spotted the BMD here," he indicated with his stick the hill adjacent to the one they were on. "They said mounted and dismounted patrols tend to start at the top of that hill and then make their way down to the base and fan out across the desert floor, coming as far as that farm which is halfway between their hill and our hill." Ebbits pointed to the mark he had made in between the two circles.

Ebbits looked at the faces of his recon team. "Our job ladies and gentlemen, is to observe this carrier and see if it's the real thing or just an armored bulldozer."

A few of the team members chuckled at that comment.

At this point Master Guns Wilbane took over. "We will note which hidey hole it comes out of and which one it goes into. Then I want us to move into Amariya posing as part of a rag-tag militia unit. Calapango, Mickens, you'll be our security, while the Colonel, Danvers and I go into town and see if all of them are as friendly to Saddam as the intel reports indicate. The Lieutenant, O'Grady, Szymas will be rearguard backed by Calapango and Mickens if things get rough."

"If we're lucky, we'll find someone in town who doesn't think so much of the Baath Party and the Saddam Fedayeen. If we're really lucky, they might help us lure this mystery machine out of hiding."

"But you all know the odds of that one happening…."

This time the chuckles were more strained.

Ebbits looked at his watch "Okay, let's set up for observing. We got some scuttlebutt that says our little Soviet built dune buggy should make its appearance before Noon. Let's hope they're right…."

Harm was taking a risk. He knew that. The doctor had advised him against doing this, but when he heard that Skates wanted to talk to him, he had to get inside to hear what she had to say.

Harm had never really forgotten it was Elizabeth 'Skates' Hawkes that had brought him back from the depths of hypothermia after they had fished him out of the Atlantic back in 2001. She said it was payback for keeping her from drowning after Lieutenant Isaaks' ramp strike. He felt though, that he had never really thanked her for what she did. Sure, he had defended her when she was accused of dereliction of duty, but to him, that wasn't the same. So, if she needed something, he was going to do his best to get it for her.

Beth was lying on her side as he approached her bunk. Most of the other people in the room were asleep or wishing they could. Retching could be heard occasionally. Harm tried to ignore that.

"Skates…." he said softly, trying not to disturb the man sleeping in the next bunk over.

Beth turned over and squinted up at the white robed figure wearing a surgical mask. She seemed to be having trouble getting her eyes to focus.

"Who… C-Commander? What…what are you doing here?" she croaked.

"The doctor said you wanted to talk to me," Harm said as he pulled up a chair, "So here I am."

"You know…you're not immune to this stuff," she warned. Next to her a sailor groaned and turned his face off the side of his bed aiming for the bedpan on the floor.

Harm tried to reassure her. "I'm being careful, Skates; now what did you want to talk to me about?"

Skates put a hand to her right temple and massaged it for a moment. Then she slowly pulled herself up in the bed.

"Hey, easy there, Commander," Harm said gently, "Maybe you should lie back down,"

"After we've talked…Commander," she managed to get out as she struggled to sit upright. Harm could tell by the way she was leaning, that the virus was interfering with her sense of balance.

He waited for her to steady her breathing.

Beth managed to crack a weak smile. "You'd better hope you're immune, sir. This stuff is wicked…."

Somewhere in the room another person retched. "So I've heard," Harm said, hoping the play on words would sound funny.

Beth gave him another weak smile shook her head and immediately looked as if she regretted it.

"You know I could order you to go back to sleep," Harm said only half-joking. He knew she was in agony.

"Sorry Commander, no can do; you've gotta know about Nicole…"

"What do I need to know?"

"Why she's acting the way she is around you"

"How'd you know about that?"

"I know her, Hammer…I've flown with her, remember?"

"I can find out everything I need to know from her, Beth," Harm started to get up.

Beth Hawkes' arm shot out and snagged Harm's "No, that's just it, Harm, you can't, And you two have to trust each other implicitly."

The tall aviator/lawyer sat back down. "Okay, Skates, I'm listening…."

It seemed that the 'Hassan brothers' were spoiling for a fight as badly as FOB Metz was. The mortar barrage seemed to increase the amount of fire from the blockhouses not lessen it.

Sloan could see some of his outer perimeter positions were getting hammered. His keyed his radio again. "Keep those mortar rounds coming! If we hit them long enough, maybe they'll refrain from responding!"

A pair of AH-1W Supercobras zoomed along, hugging the desert floor. They flanked a sand brown CH-46E Sea Knight better known to Marines and Naval aviators as a 'Phrog'. The three helos roared along at top speed. The idea was to present as small a target as possible to any lucky man-portable SAMs.

Darcy Livingston stood at the front of her stick. She hadn't been on many missions like this, but every chance she got, she reveled in it. It was one of the few things that gave her any kind of emotional high. Well, as close as she could ever remembering. Most of the time she was stuck back at base being a unit commander. But this mission was special. They were here to observe Ebbits' 'kids' - the newest members of her Force Recon unit.

As her Phrog made its way to their landing zone, she smiled. She was finally going to get to see how MacKenzie did in a real combat situation. It's one thing to be a legal advisor to recon team – it's a whole other story when you have to fight as well as advise.

Harm walked down the passageway until he reached the female officer quarters. It had been an hour since he last saw Nicole Hollands up on the flight deck.

Part of him wanted to make sure she was all right. The other part wanted to get to the bottom of her latent hostility with him. Harm had been a pilot long enough to tell the difference between friendly rivalry and smoldering dislike.

After his earlier conversation with Skates and Dust Storm who were in quarantine, Harm had to find out where he and Nicole stood. He couldn't have an executive officer with an axe to grind if they got into a tight situation.

Harm arrived at her door and gently rapped on it.

"Just a minute,"

The tall Commander decided at this point pulling himself to his full height when she opened the door was probably not the best way to start off their conversation.

"Who is it?"

How should he answer the request? 'Commander Rabb' would imply an officer visit and put her on the defensive. 'Harmon Rabb' would just sound silly. Maybe…maybe using his call sign would be the best bet….

"It's Ham-"

Nicole pulled open her door before Harm could complete his spoken choice.

Lieutenant Commander Hollands looked up to see the all 6'4" of Harmon Rabb, junior still decked out in olive drab flight suit, standing in her doorway.

Sandy's flippant comment, 'Jolly Green Giant' mirrored Nicole's thought as she tried to gather herself.

"Sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were all right," Harm said apologetically.

"Um, yeah, thank you, sir," she said opening the door wider, knocked off her guard by his self- effacing manner, "Won't you come in?"

Harm made his way into her cabin, making sure to leave the door open. "I wanted to talk to you for a moment, if I could…."

Nicole really wasn't paying that close attention to him. She was composing a letter to her brother, back home. She squinted at the screen, her back to him, not paying attention to the tall reservist. She wanted to get this done before anything else happened and she was sure this was really not all that important. Even if he was her superior.

"Okay, sir, what about?" she said nonchalantly.

"About your problem with me."

Nicole turned around, stood up and faced him when she heard that comment.

Two more men went down wounded. In addition to the 'Hassan brothers', it seemed a bunch of their relatives had joined the fight as well. The Lieutenant was getting reports from throughout the FOB that all of them were taking heavy probing fire.

Sloan looked at his watch. If the Colonel didn't land soon and tell him she was in position, he'd be writing a lot of letters tonight….

Two Dodge pickup trucks slowed to halt behind the low rise. Emerging from the trucks was a group of Marines attired like Lieutenant Ebbits' team.

Sergeant Cienfuentes and Corporal Gonzalez made their way up the slight hill so they could get a better view of Amariya and the hill where Ebbits' team was positioned. Both men knew Ebbits and what he was doing, having been trained by him. They had been with 2nd Force Recon since before "the old lady," Colonel Livingston, had made the jump from staff officer to CO.

As they set up their observation post, Gonzalez's radio crackled with a static filled voice. "Eagle to Ghost 2, situation green…."

Behind them the thump, thump, thump of helo rotors grew louder. Sergeant Cienfuentes and the rest of the team looked up at the three fast approaching craft.

The two Cobra gunships slowed up as they approached the hill. The transport helicopter settled down quickly behind the slope, disgorging its cargo of Marines and then picked up speed again and lifted off, headed back in the direction of FOB Metz. The two helicopter gunships thumped away from the hill and positioned themselves behind a series of dunes in back of the hill. Ready to lend assistance if needed.

Colonel Livingston made her way to the edge of the reverse slope where the two Marines were already positioned.

"Corporal Gonzalez, how are they doing so far?"

The Corporal looked through his binoculars at Lieutenant Ebbits' position. "Right on schedule, Colonel."

Darcy nodded to her radioman. "Signal Sloan; tell him to start hitting the insurgents' forward positions with mortars."

"Aye, ma'am."

Mac and Kayce made sure they're faces were covered as Sergeant Williams pulled into Amariya.

The sky towards outskirts of the city was becoming obscured from FOB Metz's mortar smoke rounds. The haze produced made it impossible for the insurgents to accurately see their target, consequently, they reduced their probing machinegun fire.

On other hand FOB Metz continued to pump the smoke rounds into the insurgent positions.

The Force Recon Marines idly watched as insurgent soldiers surged toward the smoke – they were expecting an attack. In the midst of the organized chaos, Mac noticed several older men who had been sitting at tables near the entrances to their homes did not move, but seemed to note who and what was responding to the crisis.

Some of the women had coolly gathered their children and went indoors, pulling their window shutters and doors closed. They had obviously been through this before.

The Sergeant was about to pull off into an alley when a beat up UAZ-469 light jeep screeched to halt beside to the Dodge pickup.

Forward Operating Base – Metz

Alpha Company positions

The volume of fire coming from the enemy blockhouses was definitely dropping. Lieutenant Sloan was now able to raise his head enough to look out towards Amariya. All he could see was gray and white smoke. He counted their blessings. Thankfully, no one had been badly wounded in that exchange. (Only one stretcher case; the rest were ambulatory, thank God…)

But this smoke 'cover' wouldn't last forever. As soon as the wind changed, they'd be right back at the O.K. Corral. (The Colonel had better—)

The thumping of double rotors ended that thought. Colonel Livingston had come through. He watched as the blue gray 'Phrog' settled onto the rise behind him and unloaded the reinforcements he had requested. One team quickly set up their 81 mm mortar in the weapon pit adjacent to his position.

Once they were sure everything was in working order, the team began pumping more rounds in the direction of Amariya.

Gibbs banged open the door, startling SJA Lieutenant, Sturgis, and Phillips. "Your friend's dead."

Phillips face morphed from irritation to dismay. "My friend?" he said slowly as if he wasn't sure what to make of this pronouncement. He looked over at the SJA junior officer whose face remained surprisingly impassive.

The SJA's voice was sharp. "What evidence do you have, Special Agent?"

Gibbs tossed the folder on the table, the photos of Rathum's gruesome remains slid toward Sedrick Phillips.

Phillips' eyes widened in disbelief as he looked at the photographs.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," former NCIS Regional Agent in Charge said hurriedly, but it was obvious to Gibbs and Sturgis that he did know. He glanced at the SJA who was still expressionless but now it seemed to Sedrick to be accusatory.

"That's your friend, Sergeant Charles Rathum, or at least, what's left of him." Gibbs said snidely. "He's on ice in the MEU Morgue, would care to go look?"

"You're lying!" Sedrick sputtered.

"That's enough Special Agent Gibbs!" snapped the SJA junior officer.

Gibbs had just about had it with Sedrick Phillips' tactics. The guy asked for immunity, but rather than telling everything he knew he had been even more vague and uncooperative than he had been before. It was time to end this. The Senior NCIS Agent walked over near the center of the table and flipped open the folder.

"Nope, I don't think so; this is his tattoo, isn't it? 'Course it's probably hard to tell after someone tried to obliterate it like that…." He pushed the photo showing the badly hacked up tattoo over to Sedrick. Despite the killer's best efforts, the image could still be seen.

"No, this can't be." Sedrick breathed, "It's a fabrication, a trick-!" He glanced at the Lieutenant who almost imperceptively shook his head 'no'.

"No fabrication and no trick, Mr. Phillips," Sturgis said evenly going along with Gibbs. Anything to get this man to help them. "That's his body. If you start dealing with us now, I might be able to prevent you from going to Guantanamo."

"Guantanamo?" Sedrick seemed to choke on those words. Gibbs guessed that when Sedrick asked for immunity, he thought that any talk of him going to Guantanamo Bay would disappear.

"Yeah, Sedrick, Gitmo." Gibbs smiled that devilish smile of his. "You know, where they send terrorists? You probably sent several there yourself. Bet they would love to get the chance to talk to you again…."

Sedrick Phillips tried one last time to show he was in control. "I told you before; I haven't had any dealings with terrorists-"

"But your friend, Charles did…Sedrick."

Sedrick's eyes flared in surprise. "He-"

Gibbs cut him off. "We've got witnesses who saw you and your friend Charles associating with known terrorists. And we've got this…."

Gibbs handed the piece of paper to the SJA junior officer who handed it to Sedrick Phillips. Sedrick cleared his throat as he scanned the page.

"Who did this?" Sedrick asked quietly. There was anguish in his voice. It was clear that what Lieutenant Roberts had given Gibbs out in that hallway had finally broken down Sedrick Phillips' resistance.

"We think you know who turned on you." Gibbs growled.

"If you want to stop them Mr. Phillips," Sturgis said smoothly, "you have to work with us… and more than you have been up to this point."

Time unknown

Amariya, Iraq

Williams had one hand over his silencer-equipped pistol as he watched this new development unfold. During his time in Iraq the recon soldier had picked up a smattering of Arabic – not enough for intelligent conversation, but enough to make him appear to be a bit 'slow'. It came in handy more times than Williams cared to count.

"You! Take your truck to the blockhouses! The Americans might break through at any moment!" The insurgent barked at the driver of the Dodge pickup.

Before Sergeant Williams could reply, the Soviet built jeep roared away, headed toward the blockhouses and the sounds of battle.

Williams opened up his door and look up to 'Master Guns' Wilbane.

"Take the scenic route to the blockhouses, Sergeant. The ladies and I are gonna pretend to be panicked townspeople and see if we get a bead on where that Soviet airborne tank might be…."

Female Officer Quarters

USS Patrick Henry

Harm looked around the room. There were tale-tell signs that Nicole and Sandy hailed from Chicago – little postcards of various Chicago tourist attractions on the wall near the computer. On another wall so they could see it from their bunks - a worn and slightly faded poster of Chris Chelios - when he was with the Blackhawks.

"I don't have a problem with you, Commander." Nicole said honestly.

"But you have a problem with lawyers," Harm replied, sounding like he was talking to a recalcitrant witness.

He gave her a wry smile to try and soften his words.

"Who told you that?" There was a hint of a demand in her voice. Nicole immediately recognized that and had enough sense to look embarrassed.

"Who told you that, sir?" she repeated more respectfully.

Harm decided that the lawyer/witness approach probably wasn't going to get him too far with Nicole. "Commander, can we leave our ranks outside for the moment?"

"Absolutely sir." Nicole knew it sounded like she was caving in to him, but maybe at this point that was a good idea.

Harm gave her another wry smile. "Then its Harm or Hammer, not Commander or sir."

She gave him a brief smile. Sandy was right, he did have a certain charm. "All right, Hammer."

"So what do you have against us Washington based legal weenies, Supergirl?" Again Harm smirked showing he was trying to be diffident, not accusatory. He pointed to the chair next to her computer chair indicating they should sit down.

Nicole complied and Harm did the same. "I really don't have anything against JAGs sir, I'm sorry if some of my comments have made you feel that way."

"It's not your comments, Supergirl; it's the undercurrent in your comments. Commander Aldridge had mentioned, to me, the same thing…."

"You've done your homework," Nicole said soberly. Then the aviator switched gears showing she was the person he thought she was. "For the record…Harm…I have nothing against Commander Aldridge either."

"So where is this coming from?"

Harm didn't want to tell her, but he had also checked into her background. No legal problems, not even a single write up for bad conduct. That was unusual among pilots, who, by their very nature, tend to bend the rules on occasion.

Nicole looked down at her hands and let out a long slow sigh. Then she looked up into Hammer's blue green eyes.

"A couple of years back," she began, "my younger sister was carjacked. She'd been running some errands for our mom…."

Rather than saying anything, Harm nodded silently, urging her to continue.

"She was pistol-whipped pretty good, but managed to get out of the car before he could do anything else to her."

Harm understood what she meant. He had heard this kind of a story before from victims and witnesses. "I'm sorry," he said earnestly, "did they catch who did it?"

"That was the easy part. The guy must've been a runner up for the Darwin awards – he was wearing an old army jacket with his name stenciled in bold block letters on the name tag."

The tall aviator/attorney would have smiled at this point, but he knew there was something unsettling that was waiting to come out.

"So what happened?"

"Seems he was a bored rich kid out for some kicks. His daddy got him a slick lawyer on retainer. Just because my sister was wearing shorts and a tank top, he made my sister look like white trash who was asking for it. Talked about how 'boys will be boys' and that he had gotten 'carried away' with himself during the 'heat of the moment'."

Harm knew his face showed his disgust. There were those in his profession that made a small part of him wish he wasn't a JAG. Bottom feeders, ambulance chasers, whatever the name that applied to these kind of people – they shouldn't be allowed to be attorneys.

But then another part of his mind reminded him that all of them – he, Mac, Sturgis, Bud had used similar tactics at one point or another either to discredit a witness or defend someone because they were ordered to. Was he really any better than this guy? This sleazy lawyer was probably ordered at all costs [including his job] to get the kid off the hook. Probably the prosecutor also didn't do all that he should have, but he was sure Nicole didn't want to hear anything about that.

Harm hoped he was better than the man Nicole so intensely disliked.

"He got off, I take it," it was more of statement than a question.

"Yeah and three weeks later he did it again – only this time he carjacked a young girl on her way home from a babysitting job. They found her body sprawled out on a downtown highway exit ramp."

Harm didn't know what to say. Was there anything at this point he could have said that would not have sounded trite?

"I'm sorry my feelings for that slug transferred to you and Commander Aldridge, Hammer. I guess you could say I haven't had many good experiences with attorneys of any sort."

"Well let's start with some new ones right now." Harm held out his hand.

Nicole chuckled. For a lawyer, he was pretty human. Not at all what she had expected. "All right."

Hill 521

Near Amariya, Iraq

"Any movement on the hill, Calapango?" Ebbits asked quietly as he settled down next to the Samoan Marine.

"No sir. Not a quiver. They're not taking the bait…."

"Give it a few more minutes, son."

"You! Where are you three going?"

Rudy Wilbane shifted the weight of his two 'ill' or 'injured' friends so that he could face the man questioning him.

"I am taking my brothers' back to my house…." His dark skin had been one of the reasons Darcy had sought him for Force Recon. It probably also didn't hurt that his family moved from Iraq to the States back during the first Gulf War and changed their last name to 'Wilbane'.

The name 'Rudy' had been given to him by his father to help him 'blend in'. Rudy had always told people his mother was Saudi and his father an oilman—that bit was partially true. He spent days talking with friends picking up on every nuance of being an American, but he never forgot his Iraqi roots – even though his parents had desperately wanted him to…they were afraid of Saddam's agents even in America.

"Are they wounded?"

Before Rudy could say anything another 81 mm mortar round smacked into the middle of the street sending up a geyser of shrapnel and hard packed sand. All four instinctively ducked.

"Go!" Motioned the guerrilla. "Get them taken care of!"

"Thank you, brother." Rudy called after the black clad solder as he ran toward the direction of the blockhouses.

Once the insurgent was gone, the three separated and began to scout the area, looking for tale-tell signs of the BMD.

"I'm sorry I misjudged you, Lieutenant."

For Tony DiNozzo, these words were extremely rare and despite the sincere tone he used, Bud Roberts couldn't help but feel suspicious.

"We all make mistakes," Bud found himself saying. It was exactly the manner Sturgis had used on him when the Lieutenant had screwed up Commander Turner's defense against that dereliction of duty charge before the Navy/Marine Corps Court of Appeals.

Tony studied the junior JAG Corps officer for a moment, wondering how the junior JAG really felt. "I mean it, Lieutenant. And for what it's worth, I am sorry."

Now Bud found himself facing the same situation that he and Commander Turner had played out a few short months ago. Would he hold onto his grudge?

"I appreciate that, Special Agent." Bud wasn't sure whether or not he should shake the NCIS Agent's hand. A small part of him wondered if he did, would he get all his fingers back or perhaps feel the sting of a joy buzzer….

"Have…have you ever worked a case like this before?" Bud wasn't sure why he was asking this, maybe it was to cover not going any further into the apology department.

Tony smiled. "There was a case a few years ago when I was working with the Baltimore Police Department…." When the NCIS Agent paused, Bud wondered what Special Agent DiNozzo was thinking about.

Then Tony looked Bud right in eyes. "No, Lieutenant," he said a serious voice. "I…really haven't worked a case like this one. Not in a long time."

"Gentlemen,"

Major Barnett and Captain Johnson looked at the coffee maker and then at the two men.

"Sorry sirs," Bud said as he scuttled out of the way. Tony had already moved and was now leaning against the wall as he finished his drink.

Bud and Tony waited until the two Marine legal officers got their coffee and left the room. Then Bud asked what he'd been wanting to ask.

"What did you mean by 'not in a long time', Special Agent?"

Tony DiNozzo let out a sarcastic chuckle. "Ever the attorney, eh, Lieutenant?"

"Sorry, it comes with the job," Bud responded with a half-embarrassed smile.

"Yeah," Tony doubted that was true in this particular situation. Lieutenant Roberts was trying to figure out this case. By Tony's estimations, it would take the combined efforts of Thomas Magnum, Hercule Poirot, and Columbo to solve this one. Well, maybe his story would at least entertain the junior attorney….

"It was about eight years ago. My first law enforcement case. Wasn't even a detective yet. Found this guy bludgeoned to death while he was watching TV. It was an all night Magnum marathon…"

"How do you know that?"

Tony smiled. "Because it was still going on when I got there. Anyway, there he sat, in favorite chair, television on, a bowl of munchies at his side, but he was never going to finish those goodies – not with that mouth…or those teeth, for that matter."

Bud shuddered at the blood spattered image that appeared in his mind. Tony painted a very vivid…and very gruesome portrait.

"Couldn't pin the murder on anyone in the town or even figure out a motive. Then one day we got a tip…'check the snack tray' was all the caller told us."

"Check the snack tray?" Bud repeated. He wondered what they could have found there?

Tony nodded, getting into his story. "Yeah, weird isn't it? So I did; nothing unusual there. And then I talked to the crime lab about what was on the snack tray…a bag of chips, a watered down soft drink…nothing special there…until we looked in the chip bag."

"What did you find?"

Tony began to smile that impish grin of his. "Mostly a few burned kettle-fried potato chips, but we did find a false eyelash toward the bottom of the bag."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. Right down toward the bottom. With the help of the local forensic specialist, and some of my own diligent footwork, we were able to track down the girl who was missing a false eyelash. Once we showed her that we knew it was hers, she cracked. Said it was done in the heat of the moment, lover's spat; you know…the usual…guy loves girl, girl loves guy, guy cheats on girl, girl bashes guys brains in. Except…." Here the NCIS Agent paused.

"Except what?" He had Bud hooked on his tale.

"She wasn't a jealous lover. She had been told to kill this guy…make it look like a lover's spat…."

"That's incredible!" Bud had heard of these kinds of cases before, but not one so…complicated.

Tony really warming to his story. "That's not the half of it. Shortly after we got her, another 'person of interest' surfaced. She was the distraught best friend of the deceased and confessed to being the 'other woman'. Said she felt sorry for the jilted lover. Then the two of them started arguing and then they started fighting. While all that uproar was going on, some of evidence, including the chip eyelash vanished from evidence lockup…or it would have vanished, if I hadn't spotted a guy heading down to the crime lab while everyone was…occupied."

"Turns out he was friends with the two women…" at this point Tony stopped smiling. "When we started investigating him, we found he had instructed the women on what to do. The jealous lover would bash the dead guy after the 'other woman' had lured him away from his 'girlfriend'. And his confession lead us to the person who had started it all. In effect, he had gotten three other people to do his dirty work for him."

The similarities in the way people had been assigned to do different things, all being little pieces of a much larger plot; it was chilling. Bud didn't like what he was thinking.

"Do you think Darcy is like that guy? She gets others to do the dirty work?"

Tony shrugged his shoulders. He could tell that Bud was unnerved by that thought and now the NCIS Agent wished he hadn't told him that story. But maybe it was better for him to know what they might be facing. "We haven't got enough evidence to prove that yet, Lieutenant. But based on the information and suspects we've uncovered so far, yeah, I think she's a lot like that guy."

VFA-218 Ready Room

USS Patrick Henry

That initial talk had cleared the air between Nicole and Harm.

After breakfast, he had gone back to his quarters to check his email. Finding nothing of import in his in-box, he was about to lay down for a quick nap when Supergirl stuck her head in his door.

"You up for a game of checkers?"

Harm knew it was an overture, and though he usually stayed away from the game, it sounded like a way he could further bond with his new XO. Now they were sitting across from each other in the ready room. Each staring intently at the checkerboard.

"Your turn,"

"I was commissioned through NROTC at Purdue…." Harm gave her a puzzled look.

"Oh sorry, you meant it's my turn to move my pieces…."

He nodded in understanding. "That's okay."

In truth, they had been exchanging information about each other as they contemplated their moves on the checkerboard. Harm had already learned that she was the older of two daughters and had three older brothers. The Supergirl moniker came from her days as a middle distance runner. Somebody had said something about her being 'faster than a speeding bullet' and someone said 'well, she can't be Superboy, so she's gotta be Supergirl'…and it stuck.

Combined with her tough attitude [she said it came from growing up in her big Chicago family] she did seem to have some of the super-heroine's traits.

Nicole studied the board.

"Have you heard from your boyfriend lately?"

She had told Harm earlier about her boyfriend who was an aviator on Reprisal. They had met at Pensacola.

"Are you trying to throw my game off?" she asked warily.

"No, no." the tall aviator/lawyer said almost immediately. She gave him a 'yeah, right' look. "Really; I'm not." Harm said smiling.

Supergirl though, wasn't entirely convinced. "Well in case you are, he told me some things about you…"

"Oh yeah?" that sounded like a challenge. It reminded him of his verbal duels with Mac. Mac. The very thought that she was miles away rather than here with him felt very odd for some reason….

Nicole began, with obvious relish, her litany of Rabb accomplishments.

"…how you downed two Libyan MiGs in the Gulf of Sidra, your little flying stunt over Yugoslavia with Admiral Boone and your maneuver with Tuna's plane when you were over Bosnian territory, not to mention your game of 'follow the leader' with the missile with a dirty nuke warhead-"

"Impressive." Harm said interrupting, sounding amused and a little bit embarrassed. "What else?"

Nicole almost said, 'your ramp strike that led you to become a JAG Corps attorney.' But she didn't. She was starting to like Harmon Rabb and she didn't want to screw that up. For an attorney, he seemed like a pretty decent guy.

She paused trying to look as if she was deep in thought. "Lessee...there was the time that you and Admiral Boone led that C-130 back to Patuxent Naval Air Station at Christmas time. I think it had a load of Christmas mail and was lost in the fog, wasn't it? The controllers at the tower said your 'Cat looked like Rudolf the Red Nosed reindeer leading in Santa's sleigh as you landed in that pea soup weather-"

"Actually it was Toys for Tots, but enough; mea culpa," Harm said gently as he held up his hands in surrender to her verbal barrage.

Nicole smiled and hop-scotched her checker piece across the board. "And you can king me, too."

Hill 521

Near Amariya, Iraq

"Still nothing sir."

Ebbits moved over to the Marine keeping watch on Hill 522. "Keep watching, Mickens" The slightly built Recon soldier nodded.

Ebbits turned his attention back to the Samoan native.

"Calapango, how're our scouts doing?"

The Marine shook his head as he kept his binoculars trained on the town. "Master Guns just reported in, sir; no joy."

Mac found herself alternatively running and walking as townspeople appeared. No one seemed to give her a second glance. Finding this thing was definitely turning out to be like looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack.

The Marine light Colonel looked across the alleyway and saw Kayce coming up the street. She had her head down and seemed to be nursing an injured arm.

"Danvers!" Mac hissed as the Corporal came into earshot.

Kayce looked up and smiled at Mac. "Heard some noise down the street that I thought might be our phantom tractor ma'am…."

Col. Livingston's Position

Near Amariya, Iraq

"Anyone leaving the town yet, Cienfuentes?"

The Sergeant could feel Colonel Livingston's presence in back of him. It was not unlike that feeling he got when a saw big hairy spider or scorpion cross his path. "No ma'am," he said quickly.

Her next words dripped icicles. "The Master Guns better get his act together and fast. We can't keep lobbing smoke shells at that village all day…."

Amariya, Iraq

Salim edged his foot off the brake and gave the vehicle some gas. He was rewarded by the bucking shudder that results from a badly worn clutch as the BMD began to lurch forward.

Silently he swore under his breath as he shoved his foot into the clutch pedal, hoping the worn gear teeth would interact with the drive-shaft the next time he released the pressure.

Again he eased his foot up toward him as he gave the venerable personnel carrier more gas.

This time the little armored vehicle rattled forward, emitting a cloud of blue smoke from its exhausts. One of his fellow crewmembers gave him an enthusiastic pat on the back as a reward for his efforts.

(This vehicle's drive train may be shot, but at least its main gun was still operational….) The insurgent driver thought proudly.

Sure, the vehicle had only ten main round 73mm shells left, but it had an unlimited supply of machinegun ammunition. And those machine guns had quite a bite.

He gave the carrier more gas. His orders were clear; if the Americans attacked, he was to take his 'old friend' to the storage bunker built into the hill. This vehicle was their trump card. If the Americans assaulted the town, he and his crew would lie in wait like a trap door spider. And then when the Americans felt secure, he would strike…

Mac huddled on one side of the alleyway and Kayce leaned on the door jamb on the other side, looking like a sickly man.

The dust colored BMD rattled its way past the two women, sounding like a refugee from the scrap yard.

Salim had his head out of the driver's hatch in the open air, as if he were motoring along on a Sunday drive. It was obvious to Mac that this guerilla felt invincible in his armored vehicle - despite what sounded like an impending American invasion into the town.

As soon as little carrier trundled down to the end of the alleyway, it pivoted left on its tracks and picked up speed.

Kayce straightened up and walked over to the light Colonel.

"That looks pretty damn operational to me, ma'am."

"It runs, but does it shoot?" Mac wondered out loud.

"Meaning no disrespect ma'am, but how do we intend to find that out? Chuck a rock at it and see if the crew returns fire?"

"She is very operational, American…."

Mac and Kayce whipped around, weapons drawn, to face a young Arab man.

Col. Livingston's Position

Near Amariya, Iraq

Corporal Gonzalez nodded as he signed off the radio and turned his head toward Darcy. "Master Guns reports that our 'little tank that could' is moving through the village…."

An unsettling smile spread across Darcy's face. "I knew I could count on Wilbane; which way does he say it's headed?"

Corporal Gonzalez didn't know why, but that smile of hers made his blood run cold. "The Master Guns says it's headed for the hillside…."

"Tell Firefly Four to get ready to fire on my command…."

The young Arab man held up his hands but broke into a big smile at the same time. "You're Americans, aren't you? You did say you want to know if that tank can fire its gun…I heard you speak English!"

Mac and Kayce lowered their weapons, looked at each other and then back at teenager.

Ya rayyis-/Sir- Mac began in Arabic.

"C'mon Lieutenant Colonel," the young man said dismissively in broken English, "I know you are Americans! I love Marines! Know all about them!" His eyes were wild with excitement.

Mac wondered if they could knock him unconscious, she certainly didn't want to kill him…

He seemed to know what the Marines were thinking. "Do not worry; I love Americans! USA! Hate Saddam! I show you…!"

Before either Marine could react, the young man took off like a shot.

Insurgent positions

Amariya, Iraq

"What are the Americans doing, Kahleed?" Asked a tall almost anemic looking Arab.

The small wiry man jumped down from his position on the roof of the house to the fortified position they had built weeks earlier. "Their infantry have not made any moves toward the town yet, Ahmad, but their armed helicopters appear to be observing our movements."

"Then we shall have to scratch their 'eyes' out, brother." He said referring to the helos.

He motioned to a black clad guerilla holding a SA-16 Gimlet man-portable surface to air missile launcher.

Mac and Kayce took off at dead run, figuring that their cover was blown. It really didn't matter now whether they looked like girls or not. Thanks to that excited teenager, the whole of Amariya would soon know there were Americans in their town.

"We'll never catch him," Huffed Kayce, "He got too much of head start on us!"

"Less talk, more running!" Mac managed to get out.

They were about to turn the same corner they just saw the young man head around when they heard a loud metallic ker-thunk, followed by a couple of hollow bongs.

The two Force Recon Marines slid to a stop, exchanging puzzled looks.

In broken English they heard:

"US Marines! Halt…or we open…fire!"

The demand was met with chatter from the carriers' machine guns and the obvious report of its 73mm main gun.

Mac felt her heart stutter. That nutty kid got himself killed for them….what kind of crazy war is this?

Before either Marine could say anything the teen bolted back around the corner. He was wearing a devilish grin.

"There is your proof!" he called out as he ran past them and disappeared down another alleyway.

The growl of the BMD's engine made both women start; then they broke into a run as well.

"Should we thank him, Colonel?" Kayce managed to quip as they bolted down the same alleyway the teen took.

Aboard Firefly Four

Near Amariya, Iraq

Lieutenant Mason Aubrey kept his eyes glued to the village. As soon as he got the word from Colonel Livingston, he would fire a barrage of Hellfire missiles at the designated target.

He found it hard to believe that after all this time the insurgents would have an operational tank. Most of those had been turned over to Coalition forces by the remnants of the Iraqi Army command back in May.

"I've got a flash!" yelped his weapons officer.

"What is it?" growled Aubrey. He hated surprises. Especially ones that happened on the battlefield.

"SAM!"

Mason Aubrey's blood chilled.

"Initiating evasive maneuvers!" he snapped as he began to weave the helo up and down violently.

"Firing chaff!" called out his weapons officer.

Mason knew at this range that would do little good. "Heading for the deck, hang on!"

The missile zipped past the diving Cobra gunship and detonated.

The renewed sounds of battle reached Mac and Kayce's ears. Things were going from bad to worse.

Up ahead they saw the Master Gunnery Sergeant emerge from a building.

"What the hell's going on?" He said in low a voice as he could manage when he met them.

"We found…the BMD…and it's operational….." Mac replied as she tried to catch her breath.

The Master Gunnery Sergeant nodded his head. "Then our job here is done."

He clicked his radio and in what seemed like a moment, Sergeant Williams drove up and met them. Wilbane and Kayce climbed in the bed of the truck, while Mac climbed in the passenger seat.

"Let's get out of here, Sergeant." Mac said as she strapped herself in.

Aboard Firefly Four

Mason felt the gunship shudder as alarms began going off. "Ah Dammit! It managed to clip us!" he swore as he fought for control.

"How bad is it?" the weapons officer's voice sounded like it was near panic.

"Can't tell!" barked the Lieutenant." He yanked the control arm downward. "We gotta set down now!"

Col. Livingston's Position

Near Amariya, Iraq

Cienfuentes lowered his binoculars. "There goes the Colonel and the Master Guns, ma'am." He reported to Darcy

Corporal Gonzales at the same time lowered his. "No sign of the BMD ma'am."

"Maybe it will follow them out of the town…." Darcy said thinking aloud. She didn't appear aware of the Sergeant listening to an urgent report from his radio. His head snapped up, catching her attention.

"Sergeant?"

"Colonel, we've got bigger problems, Firefly Four had to make an emergency landing – he took a glancing blow from a man-portable SAM!"

-TBC…


	63. Chapter 62

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 62

A/N1: Disclaimers and other vital information can be found in story archive for …FMS which can be found in the chapter story notes.

A/N2: **~~** indicates flashback ( ) indicates the thoughts of a person. *~* indicates a scene shift not otherwise indicated by a JAG time stamp.

A/N3: Thanks to my friend and beta Karen who is my sounding board and has helped me see this through. Kudoes to AeroGirl, Janlaw, Mary Ann, Mkim, Soleil, and TZ for providing their help and technical expertise. Also thanks to Lisa Griffon [Yahoo Shipper Group] for her continuing support.

A/N4: I'm using the question marks as they did in JAG to indicate roughly what time it is. SPOTREP is military slang for Spotter's Report and CASREP means Casualty Report - email me if you want to know more.

1200 Local?

Outskirts of Amariya

Sergeant Williams bucked and bounced over the uneven ground as he moved at high speed toward the outskirts of the village.

"Any sign of it, Master Guns?" yelled Mac toward the back of the pickup.

"There's a cloud of dust in back of us, ma'am! Rudy barked back at her. "I'd expect that'd be them!"

"Faster Sergeant!" Mac urged the driver.

"I've got it to the floor now, ma'am!"

Hill 521

Near Amariya, Iraq

"Spotrep!" Calapango hissed as he kept his binoculars trained on the village.

Lieutenant Ebbits moved closer "Send it!" he hissed back

"The Colonel and Master Guns are leaving the village at top speed!"

"I see why," Ebbits said grimly as he saw the ugly snout of a tan BMD appear in the swirling smoke behind them.

Col. Livingston's Position

Near Amariya, Iraq

"Spotrep! Called out Gonzalez, "From Corporal Calapango, ma'am! He's got a Dodge pickup moving at high speed out of the town…it's being followed…by the BMD, ma'am!"

Darcy's grin looked positively satanic. "Tell Firefly Three to lock his missile on that target – he won't get a second chance!"

Aboard Firefly Three

Near Amariya

Lieutenant Wayne Towers was making sure his CO and the weapons officer in Firefly Four were okay when his radio crackled.

"Firefly three, this is Owl Six; target bravo mike delta is visible!"

"This is three, engaging target." Lieutenant Tower pulled his Cobra up just high enough so that he could see the outskirts of Amariya. There in the swirling smoke, he saw the squat shape of the BMD personnel carrier.

"I have laser lock on the target…"

"Firing Hellfire!"

Bullets from the BMD's machine guns zipped all around the pickup truck as Sergeant Williams ran a zigzag pattern to throw the BMD off balance.

As he zagged, a fountain of earth erupted where their truck would have been.

The Master Gunnery Sergeant had their .50 caliber machinegun chattering away, spent shell casings raining down into the bed of the truck. Kayce tried her best to steady her rifle so that she could get off a shot.

Suddenly the whoosh of a rocket-propelled missile interrupted their firefight.

Everyone in the truck, except Williams, instinctively ducked.

A split second later, the desert in back of them erupted in a gush of flame. Mac could feel the heat from the explosion.

The burning wreckage that was once the BMD, shuddered to a stop. Extra ammunition stowed on board the carrier began cooking off, sending stray rounds in every direction.

"Keep your damn heads down!" Barked the Master Guns. "Stray rounds will kill you just as dead as aimed ones!" "Williams! Keep this thing to the floor 'til we're past the farm!"

"Aye, aye, Master Guns!"

Insurgent's Safe House

Near Amariya, Iraq

Masoud al Heikal heard the thunderous detonation from his safe house. He had been warned by his cell leader, Samir al Sahood, that Darcy Livingston did not tolerate insults and that Salim had signed his death warrant when he called her an infidel and weak-minded.

Still, Salim was his cousin and this cold-blooded murder would have to be avenged – even if it meant his own death at the hands of this woman. (In a lot of ways) he thought dourly (this woman was like a Succubi or Qareen - the demons or Jinniya) – evil genies of the fairy tales he had heard as a child.

They would often seduce men into misfortune and or death, he had been told. The thought made him involuntarily shudder. He hoped he wasn't sending more of his men to pointless deaths.

"Ghosin,"

Masoud's junior officer broke away from the group he had been conversing with and joined the Fedayeen leader. "Take a mounted patrol into the valley." He instructed the younger man. "I suspect the Americans may be trying to infiltrate our positions."

Ghosin, barely out of his teens, was eager to show his commander that he could handle the task that had been assigned to him.

"Yes sir," he said a little too excitedly.

Col. Livingston's Position

Near Amariya, Iraq

"Bravo Zulu, Firefly Three," Gonzalez, Darcy's Radiotelephone Operator (RTO), said as he watched the pyrotechnic show from the remains of the BMD continue.

Darcy smiled. That little overt lesson should teach Masoud to keep his people in line. Now all she had to do was hope that he would try to avenge Salim's death. She didn't like dirtying her hands with the actual act of killing someone unless she had no other choice. No, it was much easier and cleaner to have it done by proxy….

Insurgent Motorized Patrol

Near Amariya

Ghosin signaled from his beat up orange and white Toyota pick up to the vehicles in his convoy. Behind him was a dusty green Isuzu 4 x 6 truck mounting a four barreled 23 mm gun; a tan Toyota pick-up mounting a Plyma AGS-17 grenade launcher, a gray Dodge with front end damage carrying a ZPU anti-aircraft gun, a dusty blue Nissan pickup with a squad of men sitting in its cargo area, and two tan URAL 375 trucks with crude anti-aircraft machine gun mounts welded to the cabs of the vehicles.

Ghosin's 'troops' consisted of a mix of black clad Saddam Fedayeen and a squad of grim looking al-Qaeda soldiers from al-Sahood's cell, leavened with a number of Arab 'volunteers' from across the Middle East. They were heavily armed, but morale was low.

The once vaunted members of al-Sahood's troops were a gaunt shadow of what they once were. They had been hard pressed and on the run since the collapse of Saddam's Army. It sometimes seemed as if the Americans and their allies were everywhere.

These Mujahedeen had enjoyed a brief respite in Amariya, but even here, not all the townspeople greeted them with open arms. Some even blamed them for their troubles rather than welcoming them as saviors!

Ghosin figured that any day, his rag-tag unit would have to pull back to the old Iraqi Battalion Defensive Position (IBDP) north of Mirbullah.

He didn't know what Samir and Masoud had planned next, but his training told him they would try to disrupt the Americans' rear areas as much as possible. Logic dictated they would use the IBDP as their new base of operations.

Ghosin remembered being told it had been built by Saddam's Republican Guard during the disastrous 1990 invasion of Iraq's lost province, Kuwait. They began working on it after US forces were predicted to cross the Saudi Arabian border and move toward al Nasiriyah.

What the Americans and those stupid UN inspectors never found was that the IBDP held a secret; two underground bunkers – each large enough to hold a massive 8 x 8 Russian built SCUD missile launcher. He wondered if Samir had secured the Iraqi SCUD launchers as he had promised?

Oh, if he had, what a surprise that would be for the unsuspecting American infidels!

Sergeant Williams only slowed briefly as they crossed the wadi behind the farm. The sandy soil at the bottom of the dry gully was darker than that usually found. That indicated water in the soil, but luckily it wasn't damp enough to bog down the truck.

Mac watched intently as the Sergeant skillfully maneuvered down one side of the wadi, across its sandy floor and up the other side. In a few moments they were making top speed again.

Insurgent Motorized Patrol

Ghosin's patrol saw the venerable Dodge truck carefully maneuver into the wadi and then out the other side. According to Masoud, if he followed this vehicle, it would lead them straight to the American positions. This, he was told, would be the weakest point of their defensive line and Samir had assured them that they would never expect a motorized assault from this direction.

Ghosin signaled the blue Nissan with the light machinegun crew. They would flank the unsuspecting Americans and knock them out while they gave pursuit. This would leave the door open for his mounted patrol to charge through the breach.

Col. Livingston's Position

Near Amariya, Iraq

Sergeant Cienfuentes spotted the tale-tell dust cloud coming around the base of the hill. "One motorized tango." He reported as he watched the orange and white Toyota approach.

CO Livingston's response was cold and terse. "Engage and eliminate tango."

Cienfuentes sighted on the advancing truck. His silenced .50 caliber kicked once and the passenger side of the front windshield starred. The truck swerved to the left, the driver probably unnerved by the sudden death of his passenger. He now exposed the truck's side to the Marine sniper.

His rifle kicked a second time, causing the left side passenger door window to splinter into a thousand spider web cracks and then shatter. The Toyota swerved violently back to the right, obviously driverless. As it exposed its left side, Cienfuentes fired a third and final time. This bullet tore through the unprotected side of the truck and into the stored munitions in its bed.

The explosion was more of a cough than anything else more dramatic. Smoke boiled out of the cargo area as bodies tumbled out of either side. A tongue of flame licked at the hood which was now ajar.

"Tango eliminated," Cienfuentes reported.

Darcy focused her binoculars on the four remaining trucks headed toward Ebbits' position.

"Colonel! We've got company!" barked Master Guns Wilbane.

"Hard right, Williams!" Mac snapped. "Get us off this road! NOW!"

"Aye, aye, ma'am," the driver said as he skillfully pulled off the blacktop and onto the lower shoulder. One miscalculation at this speed and they'd all be dead.

Rudy Wilbane turned the .50 caliber machine gun toward the advancing truck; a blue Nissan pickup. Kayce quickly propped her large bore sniper rifle on sandbags in the bed of their truck. They let the Fedayeen vehicle get a little closer before the Master Gunnery Sergeant gave Kayce a slight nod. Kayce sighted her rifle, aiming for the driver's center of mass.

As her silenced rifle bucked, the Master Guns fired a short burst with the machinegun.

The pickup truck driver's side windshield split into a spider web pattern then shattered. The Nissan picked up speed then veered sharply to the right, leaping off the road to the surprise of the rest of the occupants.

The truck flew down the embankment, tossing out bodies in every direction. It came to a rest at the bottom of the hill, nose down in a gully. Smoke and dust enveloped the wreck. There were no signs of movement from the Nissan.

Mac quickly scanned the debris. The longer they hung around the more likely their other pursuers would catch them. "Go, go, go!" she said hurriedly to Williams.

He nodded dumbly, silenced by the ruthless efficiency that Wilbane and Danvers had exercised to get rid of their 'tail'. He stomped on the accelerator and quickly picked up speed again.

Hill 521

Near Amariya, Iraq

Lieutenant Ebbits watched as the other Toyota pickup thundered toward their rally point. He hoped that the driver didn't see the planted Claymore mines until it too late.

He nodded to Szymas, O'Grady, and Calapango, who were huddled in prone positions, their M202 four barrel rocket 66 millimeter launcher primed and sighted on the speeding truck.

The tan Toyota snagged the first tripwire and…nothing….

The Claymores were duds! Ebbits swore under his breath as he motioned to the rocket team to go ahead and open fire before it was too late….

As the four 66mm napalm filled rockets plowed into the truck, the second set of Claymores erupted with a string of bangs.

Between the incendiary rockets and the hundreds of tiny steel balls that sailed toward the insurgent's vehicle – no one inside the truck stood a chance.

The pickup erupted with a fiery roar, incinerating the driver and his passenger. Because of the ensuing fireworks, no one saw the grenade launcher crew successfully bail out.

As they got closer and saw the angry dark cloud boil into the sky, Mac hoped they could flank whoever was attacking the rally point. She knew the Lieutenant could probably handle whatever he was facing, but a little unequal firepower wouldn't hurt the situation.

As they rose over the crest of the ridge at an angle, Mac saw undoubtedly what the rest of the team saw; the burning Fedayeen pickup truck and two men firing at a crumpled Marine. Before she could say anything, the rattle of their truck's machinegun filled her head. Both insurgent soldiers fell onto the ground, dropping their weapons.

Sergeant Williams slammed on the brakes bringing the Dodge truck to a skidding halt just on the other side of the burning Toyota technical. The Master Guns and Kayce bolted out of the bed of the truck as Mac wrenched open her door.

Wilbane shook his head in disbelief. "Ah, Dammit, No!"

Everything seemed to slow down as Mac ran toward Szymas, O'Grady, and Calapango who had already ripped open Ebbit's shirt and flak vest. The light Colonel, without looking, grabbed at her hand radio.

"Owl Five! Casrep!" She barked

"Owl Five, Go."

"One wounded! Evac now!"

"Negative Five; tangos all around you. Disengage and evac at rally point foxtrot…."

Mac looked at Wilbane. The Master Guns shook his head. Ebbits wouldn't last that long.

"Negative Six; Evac'ing ASAP to Nest!"

The pause was only momentary, but it seemed like hours.

"Understood Five; Out."

Mac, Szymas, Calapango, and Kayce formed a make-shift stretcher team and quickly placed the heavily bleeding Lieutenant in the bed of Corporal Williams' truck. As they did, Mac climbed aboard and joined Szymas as he tried to halt the blood welling up from numerous holes in the Lieutenant's body.

The Master Guns and Kayce climbed aboard Corporal Burges' truck and both pickups took off at top speed off the hilltop, headed for FOB Metz.

Col. Livingston's Position

Near Amariya, Iraq

Gonzalez watched as the pickup trucks of Owl Four and Five tore down the hillside and headed straight for them. The situation must be dire for that light Colonel to directly disobey the Colonel. He hoped it wasn't as bad as it sounded.

Darcy moved over to Cienfuentes. "Keep the tangos off their backs," she said with a surprising amount of sympathy in her voice. It was the first time the sniper had ever heard that much emotion coming from her.

"A- Aye ma'am" he stuttered, unnerved by her sudden show of humanity.

Lieutenant Towers heard the exchange and made an executive decision.

"Hang onto your helmet, Rich," he told his weapons officer, "we're giving Owl Five close air support!"

Rich grinned. He liked it when his pilot and friend did things like this. "Roger that, Wayne. Weapons are free and ready to engage."

"Make every shot count; start with that AA technical they have; after I pop up on them, we won't get another crack at them…."

"Got'em lined up…smile for the pretty birdy, you slugs!"

As Firefly Three rose above the slight rise it has been sitting behind it let go with a long rippling burst from its under the chin Gatling gun and also loosed a pair of rockets towards the targets.

A line of thirty millimeter shells walked across the top of the 4 x 6 truck as one rocket slammed into its cab and tore the 23 millimeter AA gun from its mount. The detonation of the second rocket was lost in the roar of the explosion which ripped the luckless truck and its crew to pieces. The cannon shells from the Cobra also ripped up the two former Iraqi Army trucks which had been following the Isuzu. The URALs shuddered to a halt wreathed in smoke.

No one in any of the three wrecks moved.

Mac felt as if all of Ebbits' blood was leaking onto her as Szymas frantically worked on him.

"Stay with me sir!" He ordered "We're almost there!"

Carlson Ebbits seemed to nod at first, and then began shaking his head. Mac couldn't tell if it was him or the violent rocking of the truck that was causing him to shake his head.

As she leaned closer to find out, she heard him rasp out, "Damn…witch…finally got me…."

The light Colonel thought the Lieutenant might be hallucinating. "Lieutenant? Who got you?"

Despite the pain of his wounds, surprise flitted through Carlson's features. "Y- you…know damn well…who…. The Bayou…witch…Livingston…she told me…to watch my back…."

"Easy Lieutenant," Mac said swiftly, trying to cover what Carlson Ebbits was revealing. Either he was making a deathbed confession or trying to expose her. "It's going to be…all right…you're going to be fine,"

Ebbits gave her a short sarcastic laugh that made his face twist in agony. "Hi'm out-ta…th' way now…jus' …like th' Colonel wanted…." He seemed to gain strength for a moment as he looked into her eyes. "Now you can take over."

Mac looked up and saw Szymas looking at her with cold hatred. The look shocked her and she quickly looked back down at the dying man.

"I-I didn't want this," she stammered, momentarily panicked at that thought and what it could mean for her if someone thought she had wanted Ebbits dead.

Ebbits managed to roll his eyes in disgust at her comment. "Does-…doesn't matter…if you did…or didn't; Darcy wanted you here…and me outta…th' way…."

Now Mac was fearful about what might happen next. "Relax, Lieutenant," she said quietly "Don't talk."

That seemed to renew a spark in the Lieutenant. "I'll be dead before we get to FOB Metz…Colonel…I'll talk all I *damn well* want."

Mac was about to say something in response when Szymas gently grabbed her hand. She at first thought it was due to rocking of the truck as it bounded its way toward Company A's lines. But as he tightened his grip Mac knew that wasn't the case. She looked at Szymas.

He shook his head at her. "Don't ma'am…the Colonel's won this round…."

The light Colonel couldn't believe what she was hearing. There were some people in this unit who did know something was seriously wrong with their commanding officer. Mac looked into the Sergeant's eyes.

"I'm on your side," she said simply, hoping the words would convey what she truly meant.

"Don't 'bs' us ma'am," Szymas scoffed, "let the Lieutenant die with some dignity,"

"I'm on *your side* Sergeant," she repeated, a little more urgently this time.

Szymas stopped tending to the Lieutenant. Ebbits looked up at her, puzzled.

Both trucks skidded to a halt just inside Company A's perimeter. Clouds of dust enveloped both vehicles. The Master Guns must've gotten them cleared past the Checkpoint. Now was Mac's chance during this momentary confusion.

Mac looked down at the Lieutenant. "You believe me, don't you Lieutenant?"

Carlson Ebbits seemed to be searching her eyes. "I – I do, Colonel," he said finally.

Casmir Szymas went back to trying to stop Ebbits' bleeding. "You're undercover, ma'am?" he whispered.

"I am," Mac said as quietly as she could.

Ebbits gave the light Colonel an intense look. "Get…that witch, Colonel…. Make her pay…."

Righteous anger at what had happened flared within Mac. "I will, Lieutenant, I promise," she said firmly.

Those simple words seemed to make both Szymas and Ebbits relax a little. Someone was on their side.

As the Sergeant moved over to tend another bad wound, the Lieutenant's head slumped a little lower in Mac's lap. She reached down and tried to pull him back up.

"Stay with us Lieutenant," she said in her officer's voice. Calapango, O' Grady, Williams, Kayce, Burges and Wilbane soon joined them.

Kayce and the Master Guns tore at the tailgate latch until they saw Mac cradling Carlson Ebbits' head on the bloody floor of that pickup bed. Frantic calls for 'Corpsman' could be heard being relayed throughout the perimeter.

Carlson Ebbits just smiled at her.

"If you don't mind me saying so, ma'am, you're…very…..pretty….."

Mac felt a lump growing in her throat. "Thank you," the words barely got past the hoarseness in her voice.

Szymas turned to the team and shook his head.

A soft sigh escaped from Carlson Ebbits and then…nothing.

Szymas bowed his head.

The Corpsman, a Petty Officer 1st class, climbed aboard the truck. Pushing past Mac and Szymas, he felt for the Lieutenant's pulse.

"Lieutenant? Lieutenant Ebbits? Can you hear me, sir?" Mac heard the Corpsman say, but she knew it was too late.

As if in a dream, Mac rose and walked away from Ebbits' body and the Corpsman. Szymas got up and took her shaky hand and helped her down off the truck bed. Kayce and Szymas lead her over to nearby rock and sat her down. Ebbits' blood covered Mac's lap. Kayce looked at her sympathetically then joined Szymas as he and the Corpsman put Ebbit's body on the ground.

The Corpsman looked up at Master Gunnery Sergeant Wilbane and shook his head.

Szymas and Kayce unzipped a black vinyl bag and carefully lowered Carlson Ebbits into it.

Mac hardly noticed as Darcy's team made their way over.

"Colonel,"

Mac looked up at Darcy, and then slowly got to her feet.

"Lieutenant Ebbits was a good man…." Darcy said gently, as if talking to a child.

Mac chose to ignore Darcy's platitude for the moment. She didn't want to give herself away and right now the light Colonel was so angry she was afraid of what she might blurt out. Silence made it appear she was shell-shocked.

"Yes…he was…." Mac said slowly and deliberately, her stare matching the Force Recon CO's.

Darcy's gaze seemed to falter. "You should go wash that off," she said to her quietly as if embarrassed by Mac's appearance.

"Sure…then I'll go get wasted, if you don't mind," Mac said slipping back into her character. It served to mask her real anger.

"Just be ready to be debriefed later this afternoon, Colonel," Darcy called after her.

Mac kept walking.

1240 Local?

Hill over-looking Mirbullah

Sandwiched between a burned out BMP personnel carrier and a TR-77 tank, three men feverishly worked on setting up their tripod mechanism. Once it was steadied, the third man pulled out a pair of binoculars and scanned the valley below them. From here he could see all of Camp Chesty Puller.

His compatriots struggled to get the metal tube locked into place on the tripod.

"Hurry, we do not have much time!" He hissed to the men.

Their only response was more grunting as they man-handled the tube and secured it. Then they pulled a long cylindrical rocket from a canvas bag and carefully inserted it into the cylinder.

Once the rocket was secured in the tube, the leader used his binoculars again and relayed coordinates to the second man who began to tilt it, while the third one connected a series of wires on the cylinder.

In a few tense moments, their work was done. The man with the binoculars gave a nod to the other two men.

With a resounding whoosh, the rocket roared out of the tube and began its arc down toward Camp Chesty Puller.

As the rocket began its terminal arc, the trio raised their fists.

"Kerim Allah! Allah Akbar!"


	64. Chapter 63

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 63

A/N1: Disclaimers and other vital information can be found in story archive for …FMS which can be found in the chapter story notes.

A/N2: **~~** indicates flashback or dream sequence ( ) indicates the thoughts of a person. *~* indicates a scene shift not otherwise indicated by a JAG time stamp. ~~~ indicates a dream sequence.

1242 Local

Recreation Area

Camp Chesty Puller

Faith didn't know why Gibbs had asked her to meet him here, so she decided a little reconnaissance wouldn't hurt….

He looked back at her desk and then gave her a wry smile. "There are other ways to work out your frustrations, Commander," he said cryptically.

"Meaning?" She turned her head to see what the NCIS Special Agent was looking at on her desk and then turned back to him.

"Meet me at the recreation area at 1300, Commander. We'll talk about it."

The Naval attorney looked around the recreation area, such as it was. There was a basketball court – where a group of Marines were playing a 'friendly' game – which resulted in several of the players being knocked to the ground as 'the game' progressed.

Those knocked down, though, didn't seem angry and willingly took hands offered by those who had knocked them down in the first place.

She didn't think she would ever understand that sport….

To her right were a set of makeshift batting cages, and just beyond that, a field of mostly dead grass. She guessed that the parched area of grass served as a football field…

So just what was Gibbs going to talk to her about here?

"You're early."

His voice made her jump, again. She mentally cursed herself for letting him catch her off guard, again. He was carrying a canvas sack which had a couple of bats sticking out of it. In his hands, he held two faded blue helmets.

"I wanted to see what kind of facility they have…." It was a believable lie.

"Good enough for our purposes," Gibbs replied without elaboration. "Here, you'll need this…." He tossed one of the helmets to her which she almost didn't catch.

Faith looked at the helmet in her hands as if he had tossed to her a live snake. "What's this for?"

"Protection." Was his one word answer as he walked past her. When she didn't move, he looked back at her and gave the JAG attorney an annoyed look. "C'mon."

MEU Dining Facility [DFAC]

Camp Chesty Puller

Bud was just finishing the last of his apple cobbler. It wasn't anything like Harriet would make, but it would do for now.

"…so now former Agent-in-Charge Phillips is talking?" he asked Commander Turner between bites.

"He's being more cooperative than he was…" Sturgis replied evasively. Bud Roberts could tell that the former Dolphin still thought Sedrick Phillips was holding back. "By the way, thank you, Lieutenant, for getting that document to Special Agent Gibbs…."

Bud swallowed the last of his pie and put his fork down. "Just doing my duty, sir." He still wasn't sure where he stood with the former Bubblehead.

"You're being too modest, Bud," Sturgis knew he and the Lieutenant had a long way to go before things would be okay between them again. But maybe revealing that it was Bud's information that caused Phillips to begin really cooperating would help mend their relationship. "The information you provided Gibbs, lead to Phillips' giving us some invaluable information regarding the deaths of PFC Krivstad, Corporal Grearson, Sergeant Colwell, and Captain Butler. If it wasn't for you, Gibbs and I would probably still be interrogating that man."

Bud gave Sturgis a tentative smile. "Thank you, sir. So, what exactly has Sedrick Phillips told you?"

"Now step in and swing; just like I showed you…." Gibbs said by way of instruction.

Faith Coleman stepped forward and fiercely swung the bat. The air whistled as it was cut by her action and the ball went sailing past her. It hit the padded backstop with a resounding thump.

"You need to learn to relax," Gibbs said with uncharacteristic gentleness. "Don't chop at the ball…."

"I'm not…" she stopped herself and looked took a deep breath. "I am not chopping at the ball. I am swinging as you instructed." She replied with more calm than she thought possible.

Gibbs gave her that damnable smile of his. "Here. Let me show you again…."

He stepped up to the plate and took his batting stance. Faith stood to one side and observed his positioning.

"Keep your eye on the ball…."

"Why didn't you tell me about Sergeant Rathum's body being found?"

Gibbs swung and missed.

"You were supposed to be interrogating Corporal Richards," he said blandly, trying to focus on the pitching machine instead of her ill-timed words.

"Which I had finished and I was going to tell you what I had learned, but then I found out you had left the camp along with Commander Turner and Lieutenant Roberts."

The pitching machine spit out another ball. This time, Gibbs' bat connected with the ball making a metallic ping. The impact sent it hurtling into the padding at the far end of the cage.

"What did you learn?"

"When were you going to tell me about finding another body?" she pressed.

Gibbs swung and connected with the next ball as well. "When I got back…Commander."

"Gibbs, as part of the this joint JAG-NCIS Op-"

Gibbs hit the next ball just a little harder. "That's 'joint NCIS-JAG Operation,' Commander."

She ignored his correction. "I have to keep Admiral Chegwidden informed about our progress. I have a right to know when something like this happens."

Gibbs swung and missed the next ball. He shook his head and turned to face her. Faith could tell he was working hard to suppress his anger. "You're part of *my* team, Commander," Gibbs' steel blue eyes locked onto hers. "I keep all my people informed about any *new* developments. Now what did you learn from Richards?"

"Secord was his contact. He ordered him to keep an eye on Colonel MacKenzie and Commander Rabb-"

"Since when does a PFC give orders to a Corporal?"

"Since Richards has gambling debts totaling approximately $20,000…owed to PFC Secord. In return for his silence about Secord's involvement and for forgiving the debts, Secord asked him to keep tabs on the Colonel and the Commander."

"What about ties to Colonel Livingston or Captain Lewis?"

"Richards says he's only met Captain Lewis once in passing. As for the Colonel, the only time he saw her was when he washed out of Force Recon-"

Gibbs looked away from the pitching machine for a moment. "Commander, can you tell when someone is lying?"

"Gibbs, I'm a trained attorney -"

"I didn't ask you about your background, I asked you… 'can you tell when someone is lying?'"

She knew what he meant. Could she instinctively tell when someone was not telling the truth?

"Do you really think you can tell what a person is thinking by looking in their eyes?"

Gibbs looked away from the pitching machine and directly at her. "Yeah, Commander, I do."

"What do *my eyes* say, Gibbs?"

Gibbs was about to answer when the shriek of an incoming round caused him run for Faith, tackling her hard as the ground shook from the detonation.

Mac had gone back to her quarters. She was still dusty and gritty from her harrowing ride, and her lap was still damp from Ebbits' blood that had seeped through her uniform. She slammed the door open and stormed in backhanding it so hard it crashed shut.

She wanted to hit things, tear this place apart…she wanted to make Darcy Livingston pay…then she spied the bottle staring at her from her bed. There was a folded note taped over the label, but it didn't take a genius to figure out the contents of that folded paper.

She snatched at the bottle and tore off the note, flipping it open.

'This should ease some of the pain. I know it's your favorite. -D'

Her hands trembled with rage. She thought about smashing the bottle of Vodka against the wall, but that wouldn't bring Carlson Ebbits back. And it wouldn't convict Darcy Livingston, either.

As Mac stood there holding the bottle, she heard a soft knock at her door. Turning, she strode over and wrenched it open.

Standing there with a startled look on her face was Kayce Danvers.

(Coming to check and see if the lush had found her reward for a job well done…) Mac thought angrily. "Well, Corporal, what is it?" she snapped harshly at the Lance Corporal.

That jolted Kayce. The Lance Corporal threw a quick sharp salute. "Sorry to disturb you, ma'am. I just…" her formal voice softened just a bit indicating her concern. "I just wanted to see if you were all right…"

It really sounded like sympathy. (Even if it isn't, I'd better play along…) Mac thought. In the brief time that she had worked with this young Lance Corporal, she had found her to be likeable, but the light Colonel had to be careful; her 'actions' might just be part of a honey baited trap.

"Look down at my uniform, Corporal," she said bitingly as if Kayce had been the one who'd shot Ebbits. "Do I look all right?"

Kayce's face stiffened. "No ma'am," she said solemnly as she looked down at the vodka bottle in Mac's hands. "You don't look all right."

"Well I'm about to fix all that," the light Colonel sneered. She turned and walked over to a table that had a plastic pitcher and a couple of paper cups. As she picked up one of the cups, she turned and gave the young Lance Corporal a mocking grin. "Would you care to join me, Corporal?"

Kayce flinched as if hit by a fist. "No ma'am and I-"

Their conversation was interrupted by the whoosh of a rocket on a terminal trajectory followed by the hollow boom as it impacted its target and exploded.

Both Marines dived for the floor.

Stuart had just finished uploading his weekly commentary on the recent events in Iraq, sending it via satellite telephone to their New York office.

He was glad to be alone for a while. Sully had been mooning around his quarters since early this morning. Stuart knew he was worried about Pam Somers, the local ZNN reporter who had been wounded during the terrorist attack at JAG Headquarters, but he really didn't have time to play counselor when he had deadline coming up so soon. Finally he told Sully to go get some lunch, but not to forget his mini-cam. You never knew when a big story was going to break and where.

Sully had been reluctant at first, but Stuart had been able to convince him that if heard anything more about Pam's condition, he'd let him know.

Getting Sully out of his hair for a moment allowed him to think about what to do with his incoming replacement, wunderkind Brad Holliman, in the time he had remaining before he had to report to Chuck DePalma.

Chuck had wanted Stuart to show Brad 'the ropes,' but a part of Stuart really didn't want to do that. Brad was okay as field correspondents go, but he had kind of a bland personality. Why Chuck and the rest of the ZNN honchos thought he would make such a stellar replacement, he'd probably never figure out, but orders were orders, and like it or not, Chuck wanted Stuart to mentor the new guy.

Stuart powered down the sat-phone and got up from his desk. Taking Brad to lunch in the Marine eating facility might not be a bad way to start off this mentoring gig. He and Brad could discuss the environment of this particular Marine unit and the folks that Stuart could rely on to give him as much access as was legally allowed in this day and age. He could also tell him who to look out for, like the unit CO, Ashton R. Briggs.

(Then again,) he thought as he opened to door to his quarters, (Maybe it would be better for Brad to find this out via a 'learning experience'.)

Stuart smiled to himself about that idea, but he quickly changed his mind when he realized that if Holliman pissed off Colonel Briggs bad enough, he might give him a one way ticket home like they did Geraldo Rivera when he got carried away with himself in Afghanistan.

"Stuart?"

The veteran ZNN reporter looked up to see the young field correspondent headed his way.

"Brad!" Stuart said putting on his best fake smile and pumping his hand when they met. "Good to see you! Did you have a good trip?" They began walking back the way Brad had come.

"If by good, you mean did I get a story, then the answer's no." Brad grumbled.

"Sorry to hear that," Stuart said trying his best to sound sympathetic. "Let's go grab some lunch while it's still available. Tell me what happened…."

"Oh, you know how it goes," Brad's tone indicated the incident really wasn't that much of a surprise. "An NCIS Agent confiscated my videotaping of a body they'd just found north of here on the highway to Najaf." It was more of an annoyance to Brad than anything else.

"An NCIS Agent?" Stuart probed. He was incensed at this rude behavior. "Who?" The veteran ZNN war correspondent was getting his First Amendment speech ready for whoever this rube was.

Brad liked it when Stuart got his First Amendment dander up. "Oh you know," he said chuckling, "that silver haired guy, Gibson or something like that, I think."

All the fight went out of the veteran ZNN Reporter. "You mean Leroy Jethro Gibbs?"

Brad snapped his fingers. "Yeah, that's the name!" Then he saw that Stuart's demeanor had totally changed. "What's wrong?"

Stuart shook his head as if he had experience this kind of treatment many times before from this Gibbs. "You can kiss that tape goodbye for the foreseeable future, Bradley. When Gibbs gets a piece of evidence in his hands, he rarely lets it go prematurely."

"Damn!" Brad hissed disgustedly "There was some good stuff on that tape, Stuart."

Stuart gave him a knowing smile. "I'll bet. That's why Gibbs kept it."

Brad figured 'what the hell' and told him what else was on the tape. "This Gunny I rode with, Galindez? He found the body, and get this; no head and no hands…." With a little luck, ole Stu would see the value of the tape and help him try to get it back.

"Somebody didn't want this poor slob identified…." Stuart said thinking aloud.

Brad nodded sagely. "You got it. Then the JAGs and CID folks arrived-"

Stuart stopped walking and gave the new ZNN field correspondent an admonishing look. "Brad, CID is Army; its JAG and NCIS for the Navy and Marine Corps."

Brad also had stopped. He really hated this 'older brother act' Stuart was pulling on him. "Got it;" he snapped, eager to get on with his story, "anyway, they started taking pictures and making drawings; asking the Gunny all sorts of questions about the body…."

"Sounds like they may have had a break in their case…." Stuart said as he began walking again.

"What case?" Brad obviously had not been paying attention to any of ZNN chatter about the connection between Mirbullah and the Washington DC terrorist attack.

Stuart sighed heavily. Dealing with Brad was more wearying than he had expected. "Commander Rabb of the JAG Corps told me they were on the hunt for a spy in the Marine unit…."

The eagerness to get a hot story boiled up in the younger reporter. "A spy? You mean, a mole? For al-Qaeda?"

His eagerness was infectious. "Yeah, c'mon; we gotta go lean on the JAGs and get them to give us more. Rabb said we'd get an exclusive-"

As both men started to round a corner in the camp, the air was filled with shrieking whoosh, followed by a thunderous boom.

Both ZNN reporters ducked as flying debris sailed over and around them.

BLT Headquarters, Camp Chesty Puller

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

Colonel Briggs shook off the plaster and mortar dust that covered him.

"Sir!" called out his aide, "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine Sergeant!" He called back, "what did they hit!"

The pause was only momentary. In the background Briggs could hear men shouting orders and vehicles racing around the camp at high speed as he got up off the floor and put on his helmet.

"The DFAC sir!" yelled his aide above the din, "It took a direct hit!"

Kayce and Mac joined several other Sailors and Marines who were running toward the venomous gray cloud that was boiling into the cloudless blue sky.

"Son of a bitch! They hit the DFAC!" Mac heard someone yell.

As they reached the site, they found the dining facility or 'DFAC' was a shattered ruin. There was a yawning ugly hole in the middle of the prefabricated roof. The jagged tear in the fabric indicated the missile had partially penetrated the roof before detonating. Certain areas along the sides of the facility bulged, sagged, or in some cases had collapsed completely.

For some reason, there were no massive cremating fireballs rolling into the sky; only clouds of grey smoke and a few curls of flame here and there from natural gas burners and other combustibles. Sailors and Marines were scrambling all over the debris, pushing burnt fabric and twisted mental framework aside. They worked in teams to lift particleboard wall pieces and shattered concrete out of the way, so they could get into the smoky interior.

Mac's ears were overwhelmed with a cacophony of voices – some angry, some pleading, some calm, some panicked.

"Get that crane from motor pool!"

"I need a tourniquet over here now!"

"The Seebees said they're bringing in a backhoe, Lieutenant!"

"Over here, I need someone to help lift this!"

"Move that crane over this way! This way!"

"No! The other way! You'll cut him in half!"

"Jesus! What hit the DFAC!

"Lucky bastards hit us with a rocket!"

Mac waded into the turmoil without thinking. In fact, she didn't want to think, only work. She didn't want to dwell on the fact that it was lunchtime and most likely Bud and Sturgis might be here somewhere under all the debris. She began helping the others remove twisted pieces of metal, chunks of concrete, torn and scorched canvas, broken and shattered tables, and twisted frames of chairs. She tried to enter the tent, but the acrid smoke made her eyes tear up and she involuntarily coughed.

"You three, give me a hand with this!"

Mac looked up to see a couple of Marines scrabble over to where the Sailor, a Master Chief Petty Officer, was standing by a leaning concrete wall with a large iron bar sticking out of it at a crazy angle.

"Could you use an extra pair of hands, Master Chief?" Mac said as she made her way over to the group.

The grizzled and dusty Master Chief looked at her momentarily with goggled eyes. "Wha? Why yes ma'am! Absolutely!"

Mac quickly joined two surprised Corporals and an equally shocked Seaman 2nd Class who had wedged themselves against the bent iron bar. The idea, which the Master Chief had, was easy to see; push the bar away from them and a darkened shaft so that the wall would fall over in the other direction.

"Ready?" Mac and the others nodded.

"On Three…. One… two… three… puuusssshhh!" Mac could feel her muscles screaming in protest as she and the others pushed with all their might against the bar.

"Again!" Bellowed the Master Chief.

"One… two… three….puuussshhh! It's coming, it's coming! Watch it!"

With a loud metallic groan and rumble of collapsing concrete blocks, the mental bar gave way revealing the formerly dark shaft into the Officer's galley kitchen area.

Presently, two soot covered mess management specialists were pulled from the hole.

Unknown to Mac and the other Soldiers and Sailors, Stuart's ZNN cameraman, Sully, was silently filming everything.

"Anyone else in there?" asked the Master Chief.

The first soot covered man shook his head. "Only us…"

The other man nodded his agreement to the first man's comment, and then waved away a Corpsman who was trying to get a better look at him.

"Yeah, we took cover in there when we heard the rocket approaching…"

1020 Zulu

NCIS Headquarters

Washington, DC

Abby Sciuto was sitting in front of her computer looking at a schematic when Tim McGee came into her lab. Abby had been so great to him since he arrived. He wanted to tell her how he—

"Hey Abby," It was Major McBurney. What was the JAG's NCIS liaison doing here this at this hour?

"Major McBurney, isn't it a little early in the morning for you to be here?" Abby asked with a sly smile on her face.

Tim definitely felt like a third wheel watching the interplay between these two.

"Well Abby," he said with his own sly smile, "I'm an early riser."

Abby rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. "All you Corps guys are the same. Gibbs is like that too, you know; always getting here at the crack of dawn. Of course, I'm usually already here. I think he's trying to see if he can catch me sleeping-"

The Major gave her a warm smile and held up his hand to stop her staccato response. "The real reason I'm here Abby, is to see what you found in the computer data that Lieutenant Roberts sent to you…."

"Oh right; the computer data…plenty." She began tapping away on her computer.

Tim decided this was as good a moment as any to make his entrance and maybe show off some of his computer skills for Abby as well.

"Hey Abby…"

"Tim!" Abby's eyes lit up as she turned toward his voice. Now it was McBurney's turn to feel like a third wheel. Who was this guy?

"Abby, who's your friend?" Michael said with hint of jealously in his voice.

Abby though, was oblivious. "Oh; Major John Michael McBurney, JAG Corps, this is Special Agent Timothy McGee-"

"Tim McGee, Computer specialist, I'm on loan from the Norfolk Office," Tim explained and somehow managed to brag at the same time as he shook the Major's hand. Tim's firm handshake surprised the Marine. He responded in kind.

"I'm *Major* McBurney, the Marine legal liaison to NCIS."

"Yeah, I know," Tim responded with a hint of a challenge in his voice.

"You do?" the JAG Major wasn't about to let some snot nosed whiz kid from Norfolk sweep him out of the way….

Abby knew something was happening between these two, but she wasn't sure what. She decided they needed to bury it for now. What was more important than their posturing was the information she was getting from Lieutenant Robert's laptop. "Guys! Take a look at this!"

Both men quickly decided the case was more important than any real or imagined rivalry, so they put that to one side for now, and gave their full attention to what was on Abby's computer screen.

A puzzled look filled the Major's features. "What exactly are we seeing?" He asked.

"Data-stream from the Lieutenant's laptop; Abby is interfacing it with her mapping software," Tim moved closer to the keyboard next to Abby's and began tapping keys, causing the three-dimensional representation of the Mirbullah town square to appear.

Abby tapped keys on her keyboard causing a 3-D image of Alpha Company and its accompanying Combat Engineer platoon to appear as they did just after the initial ambush began to take place.

McBurney was awed by the level of sophistication in this recreation. "That's incredible Abby,"

"It gets even better; watch this…" Abby smirked as she continued furiously tapping on her keyboard.

Within moments the placid computer image changed. Simulated explosions rocked the Marine convoy. With the lead and rear AMTRACs now disabled and Gunny Sanchez's HMMWV on fire, the situation looked almost identical to the situation described in the after action reports.

"Okay," Tim said ignoring the fact that McBurney was leaning closer to Abby, "where did Lieutenant Roberts think the snipers were?"

"Here, here and here," Abby said as she tapped on her keyboard. "And, according to the Lieutenant's data, here are the firing patterns of the insurgents," she said as she continued tapping her keys.

"Now where are the Marines?" asked Abby.

"Coming up, Abbs," Tim said his voice brimming with confidence and bravado as he began tapping on the keyboard next to hers.

With a few more clicks of the keys, the trapped Marines appeared. In almost every case, automatic rifle and machinegun fire intersected with the soldiers regardless of where they were.

"Where was Captain Lewis?" asked the Marine JAG.

"Um, right here," Tim said verbally stalling as he as he continued tapping keys.

"McGee, that's not right…" Abby said quickly.

Tim was momentarily crushed. "What do you mean?"

When Abby was dealing with scientific calculations, hurting feelings was the least of her worries. "Well look; he's got at least three people who are hitting him dead center in the chest."

"Bulletproof vest?" Postulated Tim. He hoped that was the case.

"Those are AK-74's, McGee," Abby noted clinically, effectively eliminating that argument. "Not even a bulletproof vest could have saved him from that,"

"Yeah, you're right," the junior NCIS Agent admitted. "He should have at least been knocked down by those rounds, if not killed outright."

Abby nodded her affirmation. "According to the data, Captain Lewis should've been Swiss cheese…"

Tim had forgotten his short-lived defeat and now was concentrating on the puzzle at hand. "Yeah and that head shot would've killed him for sure…"

Abby looked at the paper report next to her keyboard. "Instead it blew away Lance Corporal Darby's kneecap…"

This anomaly was getting more frustrating by the second. It didn't help that it was making him look bad in front of Abby and the Marine judge advocate. Tim's analytical mind went into overdrive.

"It just doesn't make sense…unless…he moved away from that position! Abby! That would explain the wounds the other men around him received!"

Abby was so proud of Tim. She wanted to hug him, but she also wanted to know what else the computer specialist had figured out. "So where was he?"

"Here," said Tim with a hit of cockiness in his voice, pointing to the dead space on the screen.

Abby nodded, accepting his theory…for now. "Okay, let's say he was there…."

"Corporal Dremmond said the Captain had been trying to rally the company," Tim reminded her of Colonel MacKenzie's initial interviews as he clicked his mouse and moved Lewis' position.

Abby nodded. "That would make sense, but it looks like the snipers would have zeroed in on him standing up like that…."

"Maybe they did, but not right away," he further postulated.

This was a little much for her analytical mind to accept. "C'mon Tim, do you really believe that?"

"Uh, no." he quickly admitted not daring to see if the Major was smiling at his faux pas. "Let's enter the next set of data…"

"All right…"

A few more minutes of keystrokes revealed a very different picture than was painted by the official reports. In fact, what they were seeing on the screen looked a lot like Commander Rabb's hypothesis on how the murder took place.

"Wow, Tim, look at that!"

"According to our calculations, Captain Lewis would have then moved to this next dead area…"

"While the place where he was just standing became a free fire zone!"

"Thus explaining the deaths of PFC Burrell and Corporal Danzig."

"Let's put in the next set of data…"

"Right," said Tim as he quickly tapped in the coordinates. "Okay Abby, add in the enemy returning fire."

Abby keyed in her information. Her facial expression morphed from confusion to astonishment.

"Tim! Do you see what I see?"

"I sure do Abby," Tim said severely, "he's moving away from his trapped unit-"

"-and the insurgents are letting him." Added McBurney, sharing a brief smile with both NCIS employees. "I'm betting each movement you two plot will show the insurgents just missing hitting Lewis, leaving him a clear path."

"So where is he headed?" Asked the Marine Major aloud, more to himself than to Abby and Tim. This scenario in Mirbullah was getting more peculiar by the moment.

"That building." Abby pointed to a two-story dwelling near where Lieutenant Dodge was killed. "Where's Secord?"

"Not here." Tim said flatly as he looked at the data.

"Not here? What do you mean, 'not here,' McGee?"

"I double-checked the data, Abby. PFC Secord was not among the trapped Marines."

"Check the rooftops," Abby ordered. Tim began furiously working his keyboard.

"There he is!" Abby said excitedly as she traced the ballistics trajectory back to its point of origin. "Holy Cow! He's firing at Lewis!"

"And intentionally missing," observed Tim.

"But he hit PFC Zhang, Lance Corporal Ricard and Sergeant Zevlin." Abby said as she, Tim and Michael exchanged grim looks. They now realized that Adam Secord was responsible for the deaths of at least three more Marines, maybe more.

"All of them were trying to follow Captain Lewis." Michael McBurney noted leaning closer to the screen. This was worse than Admiral Chegwidden had originally thought.

Just what in the hell had they stumbled onto?

"Let's jump ahead to when FIREFLY ONE arrived." Tim's hands dashed over the keyboard.

Abby quickly followed suit. "Right…"

Tim and Abby's fingers flew across their keyboards, on the screen the layout of Mirbullah's town square changed perspective to allow the Huey Cobra gunship to be seen entering the battlefield airspace.

"So where are Lewis and Secord now?" The Marine JAG was eager to find out if these two had brought the Cobra gunship down like Commander Rabb had surmised.

"Still on the rooftop, just like that kid Saddiyah had told Gibbs…." Abby reported

"And Colonel MacKenzie…." Tim added.

All three watched as Abby's computers reworked the ballistics data and injury reports into an animated view of the town square, showing the positions of each shooter just before the gunship was shot down.

The Major was sure his eyes were playing tricks on him. "What does the ballistics trajectory show?" he asked.

Tim knew the JAG Corps officer wasn't ignorant; he was looking for verification. "Secord keeping any Marines from making it to their building…"

"…while Captain Lewis fires at the gunship." Abby said quietly, scarcely believing her own eyes.

"Secord and Lewis must've switched rifles…." Tim surmised as he examined the data.

"Commander Rabb found a fifty caliber slug in the undercarriage of the Cobra," Abby reminded both men of that fact.

"The bullets' trajectory matches the firing pattern that the Barrett had against the gunship," said Tim with finality.

"Okay, so that's how they brought the gunship down," Abby said slowly, "now how did they kill Dodge?"

"Well let's move ahead to that time period and add in the ballistic trajectories that Lieutenant Roberts gave us," Tim replied as he began his keystrokes.

The three dimensional representation of the town changed again. Now it showed the downed helo sitting crossways in front of Alpha Company. Next the Marines of the Company surged forward, lead by Lieutenant Dodge's AMTRAC.

In a replay in miniature of the murder, Dodge's AMTRAC swung crossways in front of the downed Cobra gunship, with Dodge standing in the hatch giving the Marines and the gunship crew cover fire.

"Okay," Tim tapped a series of keys, "that's the last of the ballistics data…."

Abby grabbed the young NCIS Agent's arm. "McGee! Look!"

Tim looked up to see the lines indicating the bullet trajectories intersect on Dodge, but they didn't originate with Secord.

The Marine JAG Major couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Captain Lewis killed Lieutenant Dodge," breathed Tim.

Abby shook her head. "That's not possible; he didn't have the weapon that fired nine millimeter rounds…."

"Oh, yes he did, Abigail."

Abby, Tim and Michael turned to see Doctor Mallard and Commander Coulter enter the room.

"Commander?" The JAG Major wondered who else Rabb had pulled onto this case. Michael McBurney now felt a little better about not having been able to convict the JAG Corps' star attorney. He and Colonel MacKenzie had obviously uncovered a very ugly operation. And this, it seemed, was just the tip of a really dirty iceberg. If Rabb and MacKenzie were right, this was directed from a very high level within the MEU.

"Ducky?" Abby couldn't believe that he was here this early in the morning after being here so late last night. "What are you talking about?" And more importantly, why was Commander Coulter with him?

Doctor 'Ducky' Mallard was in full explanatory mode. "Lieutenant Roberts was indeed correct; Captain Lewis was the one that used a weapon that could not only fire regular 7.62 millimeter rounds but also 9 millimeter parabellum rounds for an automatic pistol. To be more precise, my dear, the three 9 millimeter rounds that killed our murder victim, 1st Lieutenant Phillip M. Dodge."

"The autopsy bears it out," added Teresa, "our MRI data from Lieutenant Dodge showed the bullet still lodged in Dodge was the same as the rounds from that weapon. In other words, Captain Lewis fired the rounds."

All in the room understood that with Lieutenant Dodge being a Muslim, an autopsy wasn't possible. But nothing stopped them from doing an MRI scan of the body.

"That means Secord was covering for him during his testimony," concluded Tim.

"Precisely Timothy," Ducky said, giving the young Agent a fatherly smile. "And our findings verify the ballistics data Abigail found as well as Lieutenant Roberts' theory."

The JAG Major looked at the screen again and then back at the group. "Looks like we're dealing with some very wily characters, Dr. Mallard."

Donald Mallard nodded gravely "Indeed we are, Major. I daresay they are also very cunning and very ingenious."

"And very dangerous…." Added Tim.

That was enough for the NCIS Technician and Forensic Specialist "We've got to let Gibbs know right away, he might be in danger," Before anyone else in the room could say anything, Abby punched in his number on her cell phone.

As Abby waited for her connection to the overseas operator, the JAG Major leaned closer to the NCIS Medical Examiner and the JAG Corps' forensic pathologist.

"So, this is what you two were doing last night? Just an MRI autopsy exam on Lieutenant Dodge?"

Ducky gave the young JAG an embarrassed smile, "Well, um, we also had quite a lot of business to discuss as well, Major…."

Bud was amazed he was still alive. Whoever thought being a JAG Corps officer was a quiet and safe job needed to have his head examined….

He stumbled through the shattered, smoking debris and crowds of rescuers. Like a leaf in a maelstrom of water, the Lieutenant wasn't sure which direction to go. Then he saw the dusty disheveled figure of Chaplin Turner's son, moving through the debris and crowds, towards him.

Bud picked up his pace, careful not to lose his balance as he moved through the rubble, waving his arms to get the attention of the obviously distracted former submariner. "Commander? Commander! Are you all right?"

Sturgis looked up at the Lieutenant as if he were looking at a ghost. Then as his mind confirmed it wasn't a hallucination, he waved back at the young JAG officer. "I'm okay; I'm all right…Bud…are you…okay?"

"I'm fine sir, just a little shook up…."

Sturgis gave him a surprised chuckle. It was amazing how Lieutenant Robert always said the most interesting things at the most interesting times. "Aren't we all, Bud…." Was all he could manage to say.

Gibbs looked at the smoking wreckage of the Dining Facility. In his mind's eye, he could see flashbacks to other search and rescue missions he had joined or undertaken, including the one at the Pentagon.

Without a word, he began tossing aside chunks of concrete, and pulling piles of ripped and scorched canvas out of the way. Luckily, there were no bodies underneath. But as he did this, clouds of smoke that had been trapped inside the ruined facility boiled forth like steam from an evil broth.

Faith had done likewise, apparently following the senior NCIS Agent's lead. Gibbs was surprised she hadn't balked at the prospect of doing manual labor. There was more to this woman than met the eye.

As Gibbs continued lifting up debris and working his way toward getting inside, he cut a glance at the NCIS- JAG Liaison and noticed that she was looking through the smoke, that seemed to be everywhere, at something or someone. He was about to ask her what she was doing when she moved away from him suddenly.

"Commander? Lieutenant!"

Both disheveled men turned in the direction of the female voice. They could see Faith Coleman carefully picking her way toward them. They could also see that Special Agent Gibbs had joined her.

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

AJ had just finished preparing for his morning briefing with his attorneys. Well they really weren't all his. Two were on loan from Air Force JAG while Imes was still in the hospital. They did okay work, but he really wanted all his own people back on the job.

What really stuck in his craw was what Tiner had reported to him just before the briefing. Jason confirmed he had found several workstations that had survived the attack had odd files on them. A tech from the Pentagon had worked with him as well as the technicians the Army JAG had loaned AJ. They managed to clean all the workstations and servers, but it took hours. However now that they were clean and free of their spyware, that gave the Admiral a freer hand to handle the Mirbullah situation more directly than he had been doing up to now.

Still AJ figured that hacking into JAG's computer network wasn't the only thing they had done. They most likely had compromised his phone network as well and electronic surveillance bugs had likely been planted here too. It would make sense. It's what he would have done.

What made his blood boil was how easily they had so thoroughly infiltrated JAG Headquarters.

Dammit, enough of this pussy-footing around waiting for bad guys to make their next move. He was going to get rid of this problem, SEAL-style.

He looked into his outer office and saw Jason Tiner sitting at his desk typing up an executive summary of this morning's briefing. It was a wonder he had reported for duty this morning at all. The boy probably wasn't ready for work yet, but AJ figured he wanted to show the Admiral that he was.

AJ chuckled, (The kid would make a good SEAL…) he thought to himself.

Jason was sitting at his desk, wishing he had taken a few more days' sick leave. His leg had started throbbing again and it seemed like the prescribed pain killers weren't having any affect on the pain. But if Jen and Marla could make it in this morning, then so could he….

"Tiner!"

"Yes sir!"

"Step into my office for a moment."

"Aye sir."

Jason got up from his desk and walked stiffly into the Admiral's office. The cane helped take some of the pressure off his leg, but the throbbing was going to take some getting used to.

Jason tried his best to come to attention.

The Navy/Marine JAG waved his hand to indicate that wasn't necessary. "How are you feeling, son?"

Jason noticed that the Admiral was furiously scribbling while he responded. What was he up to?

"Uh, well…I've been better…but I can do my duty, sir." Jason said distractedly. To anyone listening in, it would have sounded like the pain from his wounds was causing his halting answer.

AJ held up what he had been writing. 'This room is bugged' "That's good to hear, son."

Jason nodded his understanding at the Admiral's written message. AJ began scribbling again.

"Were you able to get the attorneys' file servers re-booted last night?" 'Can you help me find and neutralize the bugs?'

"Yes sir!" Jason responded eagerly to both questions.

AJ chuckled at his Tiner's enthusiasm. "Good, let's get started with the day, shall we? Bring in the staff reports."

Mirbullah, Iraq

As soon as the Senior NCIS Agent had determined that neither man was seriously hurt nor could he really help with the recovery efforts, Gibbs plowed his way out of the crowd of rescuers and headed for BLT Headquarters.

He was far from done with Sedrick Phillips – especially in light of what just happened. The urge to break this traitor in half was overwhelming him. No one tried to stop him or question what he was doing as he walked into the holding cell area. He was about to enter the hallway to the holding cells when his cell phone began ringing

Gibbs couldn't believe it. Who could be calling him now? It was a hard and fast rule that no one interrupted Leroy Jethro Gibbs during an interrogation. Even Vivian Blackadder hadn't risked interrupting him when he was interrogating Harmon Rabb. She sent a message via his PDA that read 'Read him his rights'.

He took a deep breath before opening the phone. "Gibbs…"

Abby was almost frantic "Gibbs! Oh Thank God! Gibbs! Secord was covering for the real killer! Lewis is the one who shot and killed Dodge, not Secord!"

Rather than trying to figure out why Abby was so frantic, he was annoyed, but tried his best not to let her know. Instead, he tried to get her to focus.

"How do you know this, Abby?"

His calm voice got her attention. But the senior Agent could still tell she was unnerved. "Tim, um, that is, Agent McGee and I, recreated the battle where Dodge was killed and both Lewis and Secord moved away from the rest of the Company during the fire fight, the ballistics data shows that Secord helped to keep the Marines pinned down, while Lewis first brought down the Cobra gunship and then killed Lieutenant Dodge!"

Gibbs didn't respond at first. He stood there for a moment, trying to wrap his mind around this new information.

"Are you sure?" he finally said in a no-nonsense tone.

"'Am I sure?' Gibbs, you know me; I would never call you unless I'm at least 103% sure."

That was a typical Abby response – at least she wasn't sounding frantic anymore.

"Thanks Abbs," The former Gunnery Sergeant started moving again down the hallway toward the former RIC's cell.

"You're welcome. Oh! And Gibbs…!" Abby's plea made the NCIS Agent stop again.

"What is it Abby?" Annoyance was creeping back into his voice.

"Be really, really, really, super careful. These guys are really, really dangerous…."

The words demanded immediate attention. "This is a ZNN Special Report…what you are seeing is a live shot of a Marine encampment just outside Mirbullah, Iraq…." The next image was that of a mini-camera trying to focus on the smoking debris in the background. At the bottom of the screen was the word "Marine Compound, Mirbullah, Iraq."

"What the hell-" rumbled Brigadier General Cody Thornton as he rose from his seat at the Marine MEF Headquarters in Baghdad, his eyes riveted to the television screen.

Colonel Cresswell turned and stood as well.

"This is Stuart Dunston in Mirbullah, Iraq. What you are seeing are the remains of the dining facility for the 36th Marine Expeditionary Unit stationed here. The building was just hit by an apparent Insurgent rocket attack. In the background, you can see Marine and Navy personnel scrambling to rescue their comrades…."

In the rec room of USS Patrick Henry, all eyes were on the unfolding drama.

"…casualties at this moment are unknown, but the fact that the Insurgents picked the lunch hour to launch their attack means there could be a heavy loss of life…."

At NCIS Headquarters, Director Tom Morrow watched a split screen in the Multiple Threat Assessment Center [MTAC]. On the left was the ZNN report; on the right was an overhead shot of the MEU compound.

"Do we have a point of origin for that rocket?" snapped Director Morrow.

"They're working on it, sir." replied a technician from his bank of telecommunication equipment.

Working on it wasn't good enough. The SECNAV would be calling at any moment. "Get me Special Agent Shepard in Tel Aviv, now!"

"Yes sir."

Harriet stood aghast as she stared at the middle monitor on the bank of television monitors in the JAG Corps Headquarters' Bullpen. Almost everyone else there stood silently, listening to the ZNN Reporter.

AJ came out of his office and noticing everyone was looking up at the monitors. He peered upwards as well.

Stuart's voice continued to report on the breaking story. "The rocket was apparently launched from the foothills outside this town - Then another voice broke in. "Stuart! The first survivors are being pulled from the wreckage!" Stuart turned toward Brad Holliman who was sprinting toward Bud Roberts and Sturgis Turner as Faith helped the two move away from the chaos.

AJ couldn't believe it. There was Bud Roberts on the screen. (At least this time he wasn't being carried on a stretcher, Thank God….)

"Sir!"

The Navy/Marine JAG turned to see Lieutenant Sims' knees buckle.

"Grab her!" He ordered.

As Jen and Marla reached her, Harriet shook her head and mumbled. "I'm all right, I'm all right…."

Harrison Kershaw studied the images from ZNN live feed.

"Do we know which of the insurgent groups did this?" He inquired as he continued to study the feed.

"Not yet sir, I'm working on it…." replied Special Agent Webb as he cupped his hand over the phone to give his reply. Then a voice connected on the other end of the line. "Yes, Sergeant Reyes? What do you have for me?"

-TBC…


	65. Chapter 64

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 64

JAG Headquarters

"Take her to my office!" AJ ordered as Marla Givers and Jennifer Coates gently assisted the pregnant Lieutenant.

"Tiner!"

"I'm calling the Corpsman now, Admiral," he reported as he punched in numbers on a nearby desk phone.

Harriet gave Jennifer an annoyed look as she and Marla tried to steer her towards the Admiral's office.

"I said, *I'm fine*" Harriet repeated with irritated emphasis.

Jen and Marla looked back at the Admiral.

"Coates…" AJ's exasperated tone meant he would not brook any argument over his decision.

"Aye sir," Jen responded automatically and adjusted her hold on a still woozy Harriet Sims. "Come on ma'am, let's just go sit down for a moment…."

Harriet tried to pull away from her. "Coates, I didn't faint…I just got a little light-headed, that's all…."

Harriet's confused explanation was met by raised eyebrows of the two women helping her.

"If you say so, ma'am," Marla replied stoically.

"Let's go sit down on Admiral's couch for a moment," Jen added "You know, humor him."

That line of logic seemed to make sense to Harriet. "All right,"

As the two enlisted women managed to get Bud Roberts' wife to the Admiral's sofa, Harriet stumbled, almost falling onto it.

"I think I will sit down for a moment," she said in a worried voice as she sank toward the leather cushion.

"Easy does it ma'am," Marla said as she lowered the pregnant woman to the couch with Jennifer's help.

"Do…you…hear that… roarin…..?" asked Harriet as she slumped down.

Jen's eyes widened in fear. "Admiral!"

AJ rushed in to see the two women struggling to lower Harriet onto the sofa, obviously unconscious. Both women were doing their best to make sure the descent wasn't too fast.

The JAG bent down over Harriet's unconscious form. "C'mon Lieutenant," he said quietly as he listened for a heartbeat. It was strong and regular. That was good. "Snap out of this…"

Jason stuck his head in "Admiral? The Corpsman is here," He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but couldn't. All he could do was stare at the unconscious Lieutenant. The Corpsman shouldered his way past him and moved toward AJ and Harriet. Marla and Jennifer backed out of the way.

"Got here as soon as I could, sir," The young Corpsman said apologetically, setting down his bag. "Has she been unconscious long?"

The JAG shook his head as he stood up and watched Harriet for signs of consciousness. "No, she just fainted."

"Did she hit anything on the way down?"

AJ searched his mind and tried to replay what had just taken place. Had she hit her head? "No,"

He said firmly. "When she fainted she was sitting on this couch."

"All right." He turned his attention to the unconscious woman. "Lieutenant Sims? This is Petty Officer Valez. Can you hear me?" He reached into his medical kit and pulled out a plastic encased ampoule. He looked at the Admiral. "Let's get her feet elevated, too."

As the JAG elevated Harriet's feet, Valez gave the capsule a swift snap, passing it under her nose. Harriet gagged and coughed in response. That was good news; if the smelling salts hadn't worked, then it might be more than a simple fainting.

The Corpsman continued examining the pregnant Inspector General's liaison. "Admiral, do you know whether or not she has been keeping herself properly hydrated and sticking to the diet her doctor gave to her?"

A scowl flitted through the JAG's features. How the hell was supposed to keep track of something like that? He had a command to run. "It's been a rough couple of days, Corpsman."

Valez immediately regretted asking the JAG that kind of question. "I understand sir, it's probably better if I asked the Lieutenant myself-"

As the words left the Corpsman's mouth, Harriet groaned and started to move around.

"It'll be all right Lieutenant," The JAG said soothingly as the Corpsman placed sticky patches on her wrist and exposed belly and attached them to a machine he had pulled out of his bag. In the doorway, Tiner, Jen and Marla stood silently watching.

The Corpsman scanned the readout on his monitor. "Nothing unusual on my monitor, but my wife who was pregnant last year did the same thing. Her blood sugar bottomed out, that's why she crashed, sir. I need to get her to a hospital where they can run more tests on her and her child…."

AJ looked up "Tiner-"

"Ambulance is on its way, Admiral. It should be here any minute now." Jason reported quickly.

Harriet's eyes fluttered open. A puzzled look filled her pretty features. "Admiral? Whu-"

"It's all right ma'am." Replied the Corpsman with a reassuring smile. "I'm Petty Officer Valez. Do you remember what happened?"

Harriet nodded weakly. "I saw Bud on the television screen-" She said as a way of explaining what had happened.

The Corpsman looked to the JAG to fill in the blanks.

"She saw her husband on television just now. He's apparently one of the survivors of the insurgent's rocket attack against a Marine camp in Iraq."

Clayton Webb tried not to sound alarmed. Dammit! His emotional attachment to Sarah was getting in the way. He wished he'd never asked her to go to the Chaco Boreal with him….

"Sergeant? What can you tell me about the rocket attack?"

The voice on the other end of the line was puzzled. "How'd you learn about this so quickly, sir?"

The 'sir' Reyes was referring to was Clayton's persona during his brief, but unsuccessful sojourn with the MEU – as Lieutenant Wilksbury. "I'm working intelligence at Quantico," Webb lied. "How bad is it there?"

"It's pretty much a mess here right now, sir," Reyes reported.

That didn't sound encouraging. Webb swallowed nervously. If any JAG Corps officers were among the dead or wounded, he was sure a certain Admiral would be paying him a visit.

"How many dead?" He ventured.

For a moment there was dead air, heightening Clayton's nervousness. Then at last Reyes responded.

"Well, none so far, sir…we may have gotten lucky…."

Clayton Webb visibly relaxed as Harrison Kershaw listened to the conversation from his phone. "How so?"

"Ordnance Disposal says it was a partial dud. If it hadn't been, more than just the DFAC would have been taken out…."

Harm and Nicole had had a quiet patrol. They were about to head back to the carrier when Harm's radio came alive with a terse call.

"Eagle 21 this is Liberty Bell…"

"Go ahead Liberty Bell, this is Eagle 21…"

"ZNN reports Camp Chesty Puller was just hit by an insurgent rocket attack…."

Harm tried not to think about his friends who might be dead or dying back at the Marine encampment. He quickly looked down at his fuel gauge. "We'll be bingo fuel before we can get there, Liberty Bell, are you sending a tanker?"

"Negative 21; you and Supergirl are to return to the ship immediately. Eagles 23 and 24 will go on station over Mirbullah, Eagles 25 and 26 will take over your patrol. Liberty Bell out."

"Can Officer David's information be trusted, Jenny?" Tom Morrow stood in front of the larger than life picture of Special Agent Jen Shepard. The Israeli operative, Ziva David, had just confirmed for her it was Sahood's unit that had fired that rocket.

Shepard's grainy image nodded. "Her sources are very close to Sahood."

"How close? Have they infiltrated the unit?" That would be the best break they've had so far in this case.

"Not yet, but they're in proximity." She hedged.

'In proximity' another word for close. That seemed to be the operative word here. Everyone seemed to be 'close' to infiltrating Sahood's unit. NCIS, DIA, SEALs, even the CIA. Close though in this case, was as good as a miss.

"We need someone inside that unit, Jen. Today we got lucky. Next time, we might not be."

"I understand, sir. Officer David and I will do our best."

Ashton Briggs surveyed the damage. The anger he felt melted away his indecision. How dare these lowlifes fire a rocket into his camp! The lead EOD officer told him it was a partial dud. That was fortunate. According to the latest casualty figures there were 20 injured; five seriously. The toll would have included dead if the rocket had gone off the way it was supposed to….

Instead, he was looking at the burned out shell of his DFAC. The Officer's Galley was a total loss and the Enlisted Mess was severely damaged. Boy, some luck.

But worse than any of that, his camp security had been breached. And the bad guys had gotten close enough to pop a rocket. What the hell had happened to his sentries?

Colonel Briggs kicked furiously at some nearby rubble. Walking toward him, Major Barnett and Captain Johnson watched him and flinched at his action.

"That tears it!" snapped Briggs. He gave his ever present aide a snarling scowl. "Get Livingston here, pronto!"

"Aye sir!" The Sergeant took off hurriedly in the direction of Livingston's command post.

"I've had it with playing namby-pamby with these dirt bags!" He turned to the assembled NCIS Agents and JAG Corps officers. "And thanks to your screwing around, I've got a unit walking on eggshells instead of doing their business!"

He cast a baleful eye at the MEU and MEF SJAs. "And the two of you are supposed to be helping me, not hindering me."

Barnett and Johnson looked at each other. What could they say in their defense?

Nothing.

"Aye sir." They replied in unison.

Tony thought about speaking up, but decided now was not the time to tell him that his traitors had probably arranged this little show of force. He probably already knew that.

As quickly as he had left, the aide returned with Lieutenant Colonel Livingston in tow.

"Colonel-" she began soothingly.

He cut her short. "Colonel, I don't care how you do it, but you find the dirt bags that did this. I want them trussed up like Christmas turkeys and on my porch by noon tomorrow."

"But, but C-Colonel," she stammered obviously flustered by his orders, "it might take a little longer than-"

Briggs' eyes glinted dangerously. He was in no mood to discuss options. "Noon tomorrow, Colonel Livingston! *I desire* results by *noon tomorrow*, do you read me? Or would you rather I get someone else to do the job?"

Darcy looked as if she were going to melt. 'I desire' was a senior officer's 'polite' way of saying 'I'm ordering you' "N- No, no sir, not at all,"

Ashton Briggs' voice was cold and showed no sign of the confusion that had been plaguing him of late. If anything he was more alert than ever.

"Then get it done, Colonel; I don't care how, just get it done!"

The head of Force Recon snapped to attention. "Aye sir! Noon tomorrow, sir!" She executed a perfect about face and strode away.

"Baxter!" Briggs snapped.

The 36th MEU XO who had been conversing with one of the Seabees about the feasibility of salvaging any part of the dining facility hustled over. "Yes sir?"

"Find out who those sentries were that were supposed to be on that hill and relieve them of their duty!" He turned to the SJAGs. "And you two go with him; make yourselves useful. Place those sentries under arrest!"

Grateful that Briggs hadn't asked them to recite what UCMJ offense the sentries would [or could] be charged with, the two SJAGs merely snapped off salutes and replied, "Aye, aye, Colonel," and then hustled off to catch up with the XO.

Briggs then turned his steely glare on the remaining assembled JAG Corps Officers and NCIS Agent. "Now that were all alone, we can have a frank little chat…."

Tony had been with Gibbs long enough to know not to be intimidated by officers' threats. "Colonel, you can't interfere with our investigation; we'll be as obtrusive and annoying as we need to, to dig out who's responsible."

Briggs gave him an understanding nod. "Believe me, Special Agent, I know that. I know your boss, remember?"

This time it was Sturgis who spoke up. "Then what do you want, Colonel?"

"There's a traitor in this unit, right?" It seemed the MEU CO was hinting at something.

The assembled JAG attorneys and NCIS agent looked at each other and then back at the Marine CO. "Yes sir, we believe there is." Faith replied for the group.

Briggs folded his arms as if challenging them. "All right then; dig them out. Find this bastard or bastards before they do anymore damage. We're being pinpricked to death by the enemy, thanks to these lowlifes and I want this scum out of my unit!"

"We have your word you won't interfere with either of our investigations again, Colonel?" Tony wasn't sure this wasn't some kind of trick.

Briggs could see what the NCIS agent wanted. "You have my word. And see if you can teach those two worthless SJA's I've been saddled with some of your tricks. Speaking of tricks, where's Rabb?"

"He was recalled to duty on board Patrick Henry, Colonel," Sturgis replied.

"Fine time for him to go joyriding as a sky jockey…" muttered the Colonel, more to himself than to the group.

"Where's that partner of his, MacKenzie?"

"She transferred to Colonel Livingston's unit as a legal liaison, sir," Bud replied trying his best to sound angry about it.

The group could actually see the MEU CO's blood pressure rising. "What? Livingston never mentioned that!"

"We thought you knew, sir…." Bud added with genuine surprise in his voice.

"The Colonel doesn't tell me everything, Lieutenant." He looked sternly at the assembled group. "Okay, you have your orders, now get to it!"

The JAGs, including Commander Coleman, returned the Colonel's salute. Tony just stood there.

Once Briggs was out of earshot, Tony did a near perfect imitation of the man. " 'You have your orders, now get to it!' … is he putting us on?"

"I don't think so, Special Agent," Sturgis replied, "I think this attack was the proverbial last straw…."

1620 Local

Multinational Division - Central

Polish 12th Mechanized Division, Camp India

Near al-Diwaniyah, Iraq

36th MEU Executive Officer (XO) Andrew Baxter had had a busy afternoon. After turning over the two surprised PFCs to Barnett and Johnson, he decided that if a counterattack was in the offing, it might be a good multi-national overture to let the Polish peacekeepers know since they were the closest unit to Mirbullah.

The biggest surprise of the afternoon, though, had been the help he had received from those two Republican Guard tank crewmen. Truthfully, the Colonel had never suspected that those two would have ties to the local Imam.

After talking a few minutes with Rafid and Kahlil, Ayatollah al Barani had welcomed Lieutenant Colonel Baxter with open arms. Baxter, knowing a little something about Shiite customs, had not hurt the situation any.

By the time he left the local Mosque, the Ayatollah had given Baxter assurances that a Fatwa would be issued against Sahood and his al-Qaeda cell. It seemed that Sahood had not been a good Muslim and al Barani did not care for anyone who associated with bin Laden or that renegade Sadik Fahd.

Now he was about to tell Colonel Baranova, head of the Polish peacekeeping unit, what the 36th intended to do about 'the insurgent problem'.

Baxter saluted when he came up to the Polish commander's desk. "Colonel Baranova,"

Luisa put down her pen and stood up, returning his salute along with a warm smile. "Colonel Baxter, is it, yes?"

"Yes ma'am."

"What can I do for you, the American Marines, I mean…."

Baxter pretended not to notice her slip or the fact that her face had colored slightly.

"You probably heard about the rocket attack on our camp-"

Colonel Baranova began nodding sagely. "Ah yes, your ZNN is very good at, how you say it? 'Spreading the good news'…."

Baxter cleared his throat, eager to change the subject. "Yes they are. Colonel, most likely within the next twelve hours we're going to be launching a counterattack against the ones who did this…."

Luisa Baranova nodded her head. Despite having her sunny red hair in a bun and wearing a standard Polish Army military battle uniform, this woman was very attractive. It was getting harder for Andrew Baxter to keep his mind on his original reason for coming here in the first place.

"That makes sense Colonel. Your Commanding Officer's unit has a right to defend itself. I don't think anyone who is a part of the multinational force would deny that."

"Y- Yes, I mean, thank you, we appreciate your understanding."

Luisa smiled slightly at his verbal stumble. With his rugged good looks, Andrew Baxter made a model Marine. At first she wasn't going to say anything to Americans about her 'surprise package' but maybe they would appreciate a little local 'backup' for their operation.

"Don't mention it; however, we are not under the illusion that former regime elements from Saddam's shattered armies won't try and turn this into a, how you say, set piece battle."

Baxter turned serious. "Meaning?" Was the Polish contingent worried about the paroxysm of violence spilling over into their area?

Luisa smiled again. These Americans, they were so jumpy right now….

"Meaning that it would be a good idea for us to prepare for this kind of conflict. Fortunately my Commander and the commander of the other contingents in this region understand the gravity as well as the delicacy of this situation. It also just so happens that my government 'felt' it was important that my contingent have viable offensive and defensive capability—in light of the recent unrest." She handed him a requisition stamped a week ago.

As Baxter scanned the listing, a sly smile came to his face. "You mean you tricked them into sending you what you wanted."

Baranova gave him look of wounded dignity "I'm insulted Colonel Baxter! After all, when I asked for wheeled personnel carriers for my troops, is it my fault they send ones armed with anti- tank missiles? The tanks they sent me are three obsolescent Polish-built mine clearing tanks…."

Baxter's eyes raised at that last comment. "Obsolescent? Colonel, since when are PT-91 main battle tanks outdated?"

Luisa took back the piece of paper and gave Andrew Baxter a phony shocked look as she held her hand over her mouth

"Oops! As you Americans say; 'my mistake.' That was a typographical error on the request. That was supposed to be T-55 tanks. I really must talk to my clerks about their spelling and grammar…." Her smirk indicated she had gotten exactly what she had wanted.

Or so she thought. Their meeting was interrupted by a sharp knock. Luisa motioned for Baxter to sit back down when he tried to get up to excuse himself.

The Polish Colonel gave her guest a brief smile, "Sorry for the interruption," Then she turned her attention to the door, "Yes?"

The door cracked open and the man who peeked in surveyed the situation. "Colonel? I hate to bother you, but Sergeant Runaski is here to see you, ma'am. He says it is urgent."

She looked back at Baxter. "My supply Sergeant," she explained, "…probably has some forms for me to sign, this will only take a moment…."

Luisa turned back to her aide, "Send him in,"

"Yes ma'am," the door opened wider to reveal Sergeant Runaski, a short barrel-chested soldier with graying hair who strode into her office.

Baxter noticed that Colonel Baranova's demeanor changed when the Sergeant walked in. "Yes Sergeant?" She said brusquely.

Runaski looked like someone you wouldn't want to pick a fight with, but his bearing changed as soon as his Colonel addressed him. These two had obviously tangled before. "My apologies, Colonel, this was just sent back from Army Command. Your request for the missile mounted APCs was denied."

"Denied? Those-!" Then she caught sight of the two men watching her. Baxter had suspected she had a fiery temper and obviously Runaski had been on the receiving end of her displeasure once before.

She chuckled and shook her head. "Ah, well, Command has its priorities and concerns…."

That was probably said for Andrew Baxter's benefit. If he had not been there, Runaski might have experienced more of her CO's mercurial disposition. She gave the supply Sergeant a sharp look. "That will be all, Sergeant, thank you," she replied coldly.

"Yes ma'am." The Sergeant did not want to stay around to hear anymore. Colonel Baranova was well known for getting what she wanted.

As soon as the door shut, she gave Baxter another smile. This one had a hint of anger in it. "They have their priorities and concerns, and I have mine." She stood, prompting the Marine XO to stand as well. "Colonel, would you be interested in seeing some joint maneuvers with a local provisional Iraqi army unit?"

Before Baxter could respond, she continued pressing her case.

"We've been training them for the past few weeks. My predecessor made quite an impression upon their commander and I think he would be most willing to help us with our, um, priorities." She gave him a wink.

Andrew Baxter wasn't sure whether the wink was meant for him or for the subterfuge she was about to undertake. If he excused himself, it would look bad. Americans blowing off their allies at a crucial time. If he stayed, it might be worse. The devil and the deep.

Baxter forced a smile. Walking a political tightrope was not his best subject. He cleared his throat again. "Sure Colonel, lead the way…"

JAG Headquarters

Jason had spent the morning showing Jennifer the pass codes for all the servers, his indexing file for all the reports in the file room and his daily procedures. The junior Petty Officer followed his every word, jotting notes down on a small pad of paper she carried with her.

"Now this is the username and password for the Admiral's server."

"Got it."

"R-Right; anyway…."

Her proximity to Jason made it hard for him at times to properly explain what she needed to know. When this happened, she would laugh it off, trying to make him feel more at ease. Her witty comments helped lessen the tension some, but there was no doubt in Jason's mind; he wanted to get to know Jennifer Coates outside of the office.

(Wow, she looks really good in her uniform today….)

He had heard the scuttlebutt about her. Small time hood joins the Navy, continues her larcenous ways until she's arrested in a Santa suit and turned over to Commander Rabb during the holidays. Whatever happened over that Christmas break in 2001 and at her subsequent NJP [nonjudicial punishment proceeding], had changed Coates' outlook on life. Jason had, later on that spring, seen her name when she became legalman aboard USS SeaHawk. He figured he probably wouldn't get the chance to talk to her again, but at least he knew where she was…he just didn't know if he could, or should, contact her. Not to mention would she even be interested in him.

(Uh oh, she's frowning, why is she frowning? Did I say something wrong?)

Then the Colonel got her transferred here to JAG Corps Headquarters Christmas 2002 after Lieutenant Roberts' injury. He didn't know the details of how it had happened, but that wasn't really important. What was important was the fact that he got a second chance with her.

(Way to go Jason! If Gunny were here, he'd be laughing his socks off at your gaffe….)

Still, until Commander Rabb and the others were sent to Mirbullah, not much had really happened between them. An occasional lunch, helping her with some office protocol or troublesome program on her computer [which she always thanked him for], or some other chance meeting was about all that had happened.

(She's smiling again, she has such a pretty smile….)

Any romantic sparks seemed to drown in the routine of day-to-day work. Then as soon as things began erupting in Iraq, their friendship seemed to shift. Now she seemed more interested in what he had to say, laughed at his jokes, stopped for longer periods at the coffee machine or water cooler when he walked by. Or was it just his imagination? Then they had nearly been killed during the attack on Headquarters; sure, he'd saved her, but he would have done that anyway. He didn't do it just because it was her. In some ways he wished Gunny hadn't gone to Iraq; he could sure use his advice right now.

Jennifer was beginning to think Jason didn't really find her attractive. Sure, he had warmed up to her after the Commander and Colonel were sent to Iraq, but he still held back. It wasn't protocol that was in the way. She had double and triple-checked on that. She could see that his interest was piqued from time to time, but then, for whatever reason, he pulled back. She thought about throwing tradition out the window and asking him out, but in many ways, Jennifer Coates was an old-fashioned girl who liked to be asked out, doors held for her, the stuff that most forthright women would cringe about. Maybe it came from having, or more truthfully, not having, a father-figure in her life. There was nothing nurturing about Reverend Coates; as soon as Jen got into trouble, he'd disowned her, left her to the streets.

(C'mon Jen, keep smiling at him, he likes that….)

After all the fun that Tiny and the others had gotten her into in Maryland, she practically written off men, even though she was tempted by Lieutenant Roberts' boyishness. He had those old- fashioned values that she sought – just like the Commander….

(Red light Petty Officer, RED LIGHT! New thought, new thought….)

Okay, so what was wrong with Jason? Maybe he was still interested in Marla. No, that couldn't be it …Jason didn't visit her once while we were in the hospital….

(But he did visit you several times…he's staring at you again. Give him another smile….)

As the two Petty Officers continued to wrestle with their private thoughts, no one noticed the IGO's Liaison quietly enter the bullpen.

Marla was the first to notice Harriet Sims. "Lieutenant! Ma'am? How did you-"

Everyone in the Bullpen stopped what they were doing at the sound of Marla's excited voice.

Harriet looked slightly embarrassed as everyone in the area seemed to descend upon her. "The doctor said I was fine, Sergeant."

Jason turned from the file cabinet to see Lieutenant Roberts' wife. "Lieutenant-!"

At the same time, Jennifer looked up, and her eyes brightened. "Ma'am!"

Both got up and moved toward the crowd that had assembled around Marla and Harriet.

Jason acted as the informal spokesman for the staff. "Are you all right, Lieutenant? What did the doctor say?"

"The doctor said the baby and I were fine, but he did admonish me for not eating enough at breakfast this morning," That added comment brought gentle chuckles from the assembled group. Harriet looked around cautiously. "Where's the Admiral?"

"He was called to the Hill, ma'am, not expected back until this afternoon," Jennifer explained as she hugged Harriet. "It's good to have you back so soon."

"And it's good to be back," the IGO Liaison replied. Then she turned serious. "Have they said anything more about the rocket attack?"

Provisional Iraqi Armed Forces Headquarters

Co. C, 304th Battalion, Iraqi National Task Force (INTF)

BDE South—Iraqi Civil Defense Corps (ICDC)

Al-Talill Air Base, Iraq

Colonel Baxter shook hands with the tall stout man dressed in an Iraqi Army Captain's uniform that stood in front of him.

"Captain Azeri, this is Colonel Andrew Baxter, 36th Marine Expeditionary Unit, United States Marine Corps," Luisa Baranova said by way of introduction to the Iraqi officer.

Azeri nodded. "I heard about the attack, Colonel, were many in your unit hurt?"

"Twenty-five injured; luckily none were killed."

The Iraqi Captain's look of intense concern lessened for an instant. "Praise Allah for your good fortune, Colonel." Then his expression grew more sorrowful. "These bandits are wrecking my country…."

Baxter gave him somewhat incredulous look. Was the Captain really blaming bandits for this unrest? "Bandits aren't usually armed with Katushya rockets, Captain."

Azeri gave him a knowing look. "They are in my country, Colonel. Especially taking into consideration the security situation right now."

"Point taken Captain," Baxter said wryly, shaking his head. "But we are doing our best to try and help remedy that…."

Azeri nodded again. "Ah yes, your humanitarian operations. They have had a great effect on the local populace. Still, it does nothing to quell the bandits; they have their own plans for this country."

Andrew Baxter wasn't sure whether or not the Captain was telling the truth or merely being sarcastic. However, before he could say anything in response the Captain continued his thought.

"No Colonel, they only understand one thing – brute force. Fortunately, we have something that might help with that…."

He led them to a fenced in parking lot. There sitting in the early evening Iraqi sun were a dozen Iraqi Army OT-64 personnel carriers armed with missiles. Most still sported their Republican Guard markings. A few had been repainted and now had the insignia of the provisional Army.

The MEU XO couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Captain, I thought you were supposed to turn these over to the local US Army units in the area…."

Azeri gave the two foreign officers a brief chuckle. "We were 'given' these vehicles by the Provisional Government, Colonel, with the stipulation that they only be used to quell insurgent unrest and banditry…."

Baxter turned to Luisa. He could see the wheels turning in the Polish CO's head. He knew what she was going to ask.

Baranova put on her best 'damsel in distress' aire. She could have just brusquely ordered the Captain to turn over the vehicles she needed, but Baxter could tell she preferred to do things with finesse, and flattering the Captain would not hurt either. "Captain, as a sign of cooperation between our two countries, would you loan me six of your APCs? Our shipment was delayed by bureaucratic red tape, surely you understand."

Captain Azeri smirked. He knew what she was doing, but he didn't mind playing along. "Of course. I don't see why not, Colonel Baranova…as long as we can help you with your, uh, problem."

The Polish CO winked at the MEU Executive Officer and then turned back to the Iraqi officer. "I believe that can be arranged, Captain."

Harriet had been relieved to hear that no one on the JAGMAN team had been killed or seriously injured in the attack. Once that was out of the way, the IGO Liaison set about getting the office back to working mode. There was still a lot of work to be done to get Headquarters back to operational status and the lunch break wouldn't begin for another hour.

Lieutenant Sims munched on an energy bar as she as and Sergeant Givers went over the schedule for the telephone technicians. Then there was the Gomez court martial to reschedule.

Despite the tasty goodness of the military issue candy bar, Harriet's stomach protested loudly about there not being enough. In response to the growling, junior added his own kicks.

"Maybe we should break for lunch…" Harriet said holding her side after one particularly sharp kick from junior.

There was still a ton of work to be done-workmen's schedules to be coordinated, trials and hearings to be arranged and re-arranged, assignment of new cases to the existing lawyer pool, and of course any intel that could be provided to the JAGMAN team in Mirbullah.

After a few minutes' discussion about lunch options, the group decided on carryout from Beltway Burgers for the entire bullpen staff. Marla volunteered to call in the order and pick up the food. Harriet insisted on going with her.

At first, the Marine had reservations about the pregnant woman coming along, but Harriet persisted, saying the doctor told her exercise, like walking, would be good for her and the baby, but she did grab another energy bar from her desk before they left.

After a few minutes' walk, they approached the busy parking lot of the local Falls Church eating establishment that catered to JAG Headquarters and businesses in the area.

Marla and Harriet made their way inside. The inside of the fast food restaurant was lunchtime chaos. Military personnel and civilians milled around the length of the store, looking for available seating, others were seated and eating food, while others were getting rid of their trash before heading back to work.

The two JAG Corps office workers made their way to the line that began at the end of a row of tables where an obviously frustrated mother was having little success at getting her son to eat his French fries.

Marla looked around with shell shocked bewilderment. "Is it always like this ma'am?"

Harriet smiled. "This is a good day, Sergeant…."

The line moved at a surprisingly brisk pace. In no time they had reached the counter.

"Call in order for JAG Headquarters, Sergeant Marla Givers?"

The counterman nodded. "Givers order up!" He called back to the kitchen area. In a moment one of workers from the kitchen brought out a large polystyrene case and set it on the counter.

"That'll be one twenty five," he said tapping on the keys of the computer register in front of him.

Harriet pushed a card toward the counterman. "Here; use my credit card-"

Marla turned to her and shook her head. "Ma'am I couldn't…."

"Go ahead, Sergeant." Harriet insisted. "You can owe me lunch another time."

"Yes ma'am," she turned back to the counterman and nodded. "She's paying…."

As the counterman rung up the purchase, Harriet opened the box and found her first sandwich. Unwrapping it, she took a healthy bite. As she chewed, a strange look crawled across her face.

"Lieutenant?" the counterman looked at her face, concerned.

Marla also saw her odd expression. "Ma'am? Are you all right? What is it?"

Harriet swallowed her bite. "The sandwich…. Where are the croutons?"

Neither Marla nor the counterman said anything.

"I ordered a bacon double cheeseburger with croutons." Harriet stated plainly.

"With croutons," said the counterman with a blank look.

"She's pregnant," explained Marla hastily.

"No kidding," said the counterman sarcastically. "Hold on for a moment," he turned back toward the busy kitchen. "Sally, give me an extra salad for the JAG order!"

"You got it, Sam," Sally replied, giving him a salad box.

"Here you go,"

Harriet started to protest this addition. "But I ordered-"

Sam deftly opened the salad box and removed the crouton packet, then he took the Lieutenant's second bacon cheeseburger from the polystyrene carton, opened the sandwich, sprinkled the croutons on top, and then closed it up and handed it back to her.

"You wanted croutons, didn't you, ma'am?" Harriet nodded. "Good, there you go; now you can give that extra salad to someone else at the office, no charge…"

JAG Headquarters

Garden area

At the back of the impressive JAG Corps Headquarters' building was a simple but functional garden with a few stone tables, some metal lattice-work chairs, and a fountain. For those personnel whose offices looked out toward it, the area served as nice distraction when they needed it. For the lawyers, it was an oasis where they and their clients could escape the office confines when they needed to talk in private. At other times the various JAGs had used it as their personal break area. Admiral Brovo used to practice his clarinet playing here in this refuge from the world. Anytime Admiral Chegwidden wasn't using it, he allowed the staff to take their lunch breaks in the area.

Jason and Jennifer arrived first and were soon joined by Harriet and Marla who had just finished distributing the rest of the food to the staff in the bullpen.

"Okay, what's so hush-hush that we have to meet out here for lunch?" Harriet asked as she put down the bag containing the food from Beltway Burgers. "What's going on, Tiner?"

Jason reached over and pulled out a Styrofoam cup and took a sip of tea. He kept his voice low so only the four of them could hear. "The Admiral and I found three bugs this morning in the bullpen."

Harriet, who had just opened her sandwich bag stopped and gave him an odd look. "Bugs?"

Marla quickly cleared up her misconception. "Electronic listening devices, ma'am. Very sophisticated. Probably planted when the clean-up work was being done."

Jason was quick to squash that theory. "No, Marla, the Admiral thinks they were planted some time ago. Probably just after the first JAGMAN team investigated Lieutenant Dodge's death."

"So someone in the bullpen is working with al-Qaeda?" Jen could scarcely believe it.

"And with that traitor in Mirbullah," added Jason.

"It's probably traitors…." Everyone looked at Marla. She quickly explained her correction of Jason's comment. "It's too big of an operation for just one person in that Marine unit to be involved. I think there are others besides' Secord and the guys he eliminated."

Jennifer swallowed her bite of sandwich. "That's what the Commander and Colonel MacKenzie believe…." She didn't tell them the rest. That the Colonel and Commander believed it was Colonel Livingston, the Force Recon commander and Captain Lewis, head of the 36th MEU's Company A. Jen wasn't sure at this point they could even trust Marla - no matter how big of a help she had been so far….

Harriet nodded her agreement with Coates' statement. "Bud believes that too. He told me during the court martial there was something weird about the way some of the senior officers were acting during the proceedings."

The IGO Liaison focused her attention at the senior Petty Officer. "Okay Tiner, what do *we* do? How do *we* find any more of these bugs?" It was obvious even though Harriet was an officer and should lead any effort to the find the bugs, she also knew that Jason knew more about these bugs and what to do.

Jason saw that all eyes were on him. They were all looking to him for a plan. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He had one – a plan, that is - it was not much of one, but it was a start. He leaned closer to the women. "Uh, well, we check around all the phones and workstations, anywhere you might think someone might place a listening device. Use these sniffers," he stated with a little more confidence as he handed out a small device to each of them, "the LED indicator will turn red when a bug is found."

Jennifer looked at the small electronic device that was no bigger than a matchbox. It actually had two LEDs on it. One red, one green. "We don't want to destroy them though, when we find them, do we?" She said as she fingered the device. Jason gave her a brief smile. It was like they were on the same wavelength.

Jason shook his head, getting into the role of leader. He'd never been in charge of something like this and he found he liked it. "No, just locate. We don't want them to know we've found'em. The Admiral says continue with your normal routines, keep feeding them the same information that we've been giving them up to now. When the time is right, the Admiral says he'll spring the trap shut. And this is important: Do not let anyone else know what we are doing…."

The three women looked at their devices and then back at him. "Why?" They said in unison.

Jason paused for a moment. He hadn't considered that they might ask that question. But then the answer he supplied was the only one that made sense. "Because right now the Admiral only trusts us. Everyone else in JAG Headquarters is suspect…."

"Everyone, Tiner?" Lieutenant Sims said with a hint of officer disapproval. Harriet couldn't believe this. It was like some bad dream that she couldn't wake up from. Just who else was involved?

Jason was momentarily taken aback. Harriet had deferred to him because of his technical expertise, was she changing her mind? Had he not handled this properly? "Well, yes ma'am," he replied a little unsteadily, "Everyone."

Marla fingered her sniffer. "I didn't like Major Clemons at first, but I can't believe that she's a traitor…."

Jason felt his self-assurance crumbling. Maybe the Lieutenant should have taken the lead on this….

Harriet could see the crisis of confidence in Jason's face. It was hard to believe, but right now, other than their group and the Admiral, anyone could be sharing info with the enemy. It was time to put her personal doubts aside and support the Admiral's Yeoman. "Sergeant, I don't think the Admiral wants us going around sharing this information about the bugs with everyone at JAG Headquarters…."

Jason looked over at Harriet and gave him a brief nod of support. Jason felt his confidence returning.

"All right," Marla conceded, "I can go along with that, but what do we say to anyone who asks what we're doing?"

Tiner nodded. Her question was a good one. "Try to be inconspicuous; go to a person's desk when they're not there. Off hours, early morning, late evening. If they happen to be there when you are, tell them you're checking phone and internet connections. Admiral's orders. If it glows green, then you tell them everything's okay. If it glows red tell them something's wrong with your indicator – bad batteries, malfunction, something like that. If you notice anyone taking a special interest in what you're doing, note who it is and let me or the Admiral know…."

After Jason finished his 'talk', he drained his cup. It left him with nothing to drink for lunch, but the drink had calmed his nerves. "Lieutenant, if you could, ma'am, you and the Sergeant should start checking out the rest of the workstation areas after lunch."

Harriet understood that it was the Admiral, not Jason, who was issuing these orders. But what she couldn't understand was why he wasn't going to be involved right now.

"Where are you going to be, Tiner?"

"The Admiral has requested that Petty Officer Coates and I attend a funeral this afternoon," Jen, who had been examining her sniffer, looked up in surprise at Jason's comment.

Woodhaven Memorial Cemetery

Falls Church, Virginia

Chegwidden, Jason Tiner, and Jennifer Coates, dressed in their service dress uniforms, stood silently at the gravesite. Many of the onlookers noticed that the two Petty Officers were sporting bandages. Everyone stood silently, the Reverend having just finished his sermon.

In the background a white gloved Arlington patrol officer walked over to her cruiser, opened the door, and pulled out her radio mike. She switched the car radio mike to loudspeaker mode.

"Twelve twenty four Adam…"

"Twelve twenty four Adam…"

Only silence greeted the request for the officer to check in.

The officer cleared her throat and clicked the mike again. "Officer Low is ten-seven…May God rest his soul."

AJ, Coates and Tiner held their salutes as a soft rain began to fall on those gathered around Michael Low's grave. In the background, a handpicked team from the Arlington Police Department shouldered their rifles and when ordered, fired their salute to their fallen comrade.

As quickly as it had begun, the light rain paused. With the salute completed, the riflemen were dismissed while the Arlington Police Department's Chief spoke quietly with Mrs. Low.

Rear Admiral [RADM] Chegwidden, closely followed by Coates and Tiner, walked over to them.

"Ma'am…."

The Chief stood up and silently acknowledged the Navy personnel and then excused himself. Ms. Low slowly turned and cast a baleful stare at the Navy/Marine JAG and the Petty Officers that had walked up to her.

"It's so nice of the Petty Officer who got my husband killed to attend his funeral," she said icily. Seeing Jason's stricken look, or maybe something else, must've made her stop and reconsider.

She sighed deeply and shook her head. "I'm sorry Petty Officer, you didn't deserve that. That was wrong and spiteful of me."

She chuckled humorlessly and gave him a sad smile "Michael would have chewed me out for doing something like that to you. He'd…he'd tell me that it wasn't your fault," she bit her lower lip to keep the tears building in her eyes from spilling down her flushed cheeks.

"Mrs. Low, we are so very sorry for what happened," said AJ gently, "If there is anything I, or my office can do for you…"

She sniffed and smiled. "Thank you…Admiral. I really appreciate that; I'm sure Michael would have…." She gave all three officers a brave smile.

"There is something you can tell me, though," she said after a moment of uneasy silence passed between them.

"Yes ma'am?" said the JAG replied as reverently as he could given her earlier snide comment.

"Did we stop them? Did we catch them before they could do any more harm?"

It was a question AJ had been asked repeatedly since the attack. In a way, she hoped they would reassure her that the bad guys had been caught and this wouldn't happen again. The painful truth was that AJ really couldn't tell her that, or that it wouldn't happen again.

Jen looked sadly at Jason, and AJ looked down, and then back at the woman. "They won't be attacking anyone else, if that's what you mean Mrs. Low," Of that he was sure – out of the nearly full company of suicide terrorists who had attacked JAG Headquarters, only one had survived – as a fugitive.

Jen felt more had to be said. This woman had just lost her husband. To her right now, his death must be so meaningless. It needed to stand for something. "Ma'am because of your husband, we were able to rescue two Afghan nationals that were being held by the terrorists at their safe house. One of the two risked their life to give us a book that contained their plans. It allowed us to foil their assault and keep them from carrying out more attacks."

At this revelation Mrs. Low smiled again. "Michael would have been proud. Who is this person, Petty Officer?"

Jennifer Coates bit her lower lip, she'd already risked the wrath of the Admiral by this breach and to say anything more could endanger Ms. Dodge's life, "I'm not at liberty to say ma'am…." she saw the crestfallen look on the woman's face "…but they were the spouse of a Marine who was killed in combat in Iraq." Jen quickly added, hoping the Admiral would not ream her out for this admission.

For the first time since they had met AJ saw hope light the woman's eyes. "Admiral? Would it be possible for me to visit this person?"

AJ paused for a moment to consider the consequences.

To hell with consequences; this man had given his life for his country as bravely as any solider would have. The least he could do was honor his widow's request.

He nodded. "Of course, Mrs. Low. You understand, you cannot talk to anyone about this meeting…."

Mrs. Low quietly acquiesced to the conditions. "I understand Admiral; I just need to know that my husband's death wasn't in vain…."

AJ nodded silently. Jason offered his arm to the woman and Jen fell in on her other side like a protection team. The Navy/Marine Judge Advocate General lead the procession back to the waiting Navy limousine.

-TBC…


	66. Chapter 65

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 65

A/N1: Disclaimers and other vital information can be found in story archive for …FMS which can be found in the story chapter notes.

A/N2: **~~** indicates flashback or dream sequence ( ) indicates the thoughts of a person. *~* indicates a scene shift not otherwise indicated by a JAG time stamp. ~~~ indicates a dream sequence.

A/N3: Thanks to my friend and beta Karen who is my sounding board and has helped me see this through. Kudos to AeroGirl, Mkim, Soleil, TZ, Janlaw for providing their help and technical expertise. Also thanks to Lisa Griffon [Yahoo Shipper Group] for her continuing support.

A/N4: Late August and early September 2008 saw the passing of two great people connected with JAG; Don LaFontaine, the voice of the introduction to Seasons 2 & 3 of JAG. Mr. LaFontaine was also known for his voiceovers on movie trailers and most recently for a humorous GEICO commercial. And Jeff McKay, who many of you might remember from "Blacksheep Squadron" and "Magnum P.I." but we in the JAG world will always know him as 'Big Bud' Roberts, the father of Bud and Mike Roberts. They are sorely missed.

1520 Local

Crystal Valley Apartments

Falls Church, Virginia

Mrs. Low and Fazirah Dodge stood cautiously regarding each other in the apartment's living room. The tension in the air was palpable. Then it seemed to dissipate as Mrs. Low reached out, her actions mimicked by the Marine widow. The two women embraced.

Jason unconsciously took Jennifer's hand in his. Jennifer looked stunned for a moment, but did not let go. AJ took note of Jen's reaction, but did not say anything. Now was not the time or the place to discuss protocol.

"Let's wait outside," he said softly to the two petty officers. Jason had dropped Jen's hand and resumed a professional stance. They nodded their agreement and together the three left the apartment.

"I am…how you say, so…horribly sorry for your loss…Mrs. Low," said Fazirah haltingly as tears filled her shining brown eyes.

Mrs. Low gave a warm chuckle; not at the woman's grammatical clumsiness, but because of the honest warmth behind her words. A single tear trickled down her face. "I'm sorry for your loss too, Mrs. Dodge, and its Katie Lynn."

"I am sorry, Katie…Lynn," Fazirah replied smiling "and, please, it is Fazirah."

Michael's widow looked at the woman. "Fazirah, your husband was a combat engineer in the Marines?

Fazirah nodded feeling a moment of pride. "A first Lieutenant. He loved being a Marine. Very proud of it."

Katie Lynn Low had to know more. "How did he die?"

A sad, painful look crept into Fazirah's eyes. "He was shot and killed during an operation to liberate an Iraqi village." The Afghan refugee wanted her to know more. The good part. She reached out and urged Mrs. Dodge to join her on the sofa. After they were seated Fazirah told her the rest. "He had been trying to save the life of his fellow Marines."

Katie Lynn smiled, her cheeks trembling. She closed her eyes and took a calming breath. "Michael had wanted to be a Marine. He failed the physical when he was younger. So, he became a patrolman instead."

Fazirah understood what the woman was saying. Her man had felt it was his duty to protect and serve others. If he couldn't do it as a soldier, then he would do so as an officer of the law. As her father had and his father had before him. "If it was not for your husband…his sacrifice, Katie Lynn…Petty Officers Tiner and Coates would not be alive today, and most likely I would not be here either."

Mrs. Low dipped her head at those words.

Fazirah took her hand again and met her eyes when Katie Lynn looked up. "Allah took our husbands, but it was part of a greater purpose. We can be proud of them, Katie Lynn. He will take care of them until we can be with them again."

Katie Lynn nodded. "True, we don't always know why God does what he does, but there is always a reason for it. We sometimes just don't understand the reason."

"Until we begin to see the bigger picture." Fazirah bit her lower lip as she looked into Katie Lynn's shining blue eyes.

"I only have myself to blame, Jethro," Ducky said with an aire of resignation.

"What do you mean, Duck?" Gibbs said quickly. He really wanted to get back in the room and start interrogating Sedrick Phillips again. Dr. Mallard having a crisis of confidence was highly unusual, so Gibbs felt it would have been wrong to ignore his call.

"I mean, I should have realized it was Captain Lewis and not PFC Secord who fired the weapon. I can't believe I was so easily mislead."

"You can't blame yourself for that, Duck. We all get mislead from time to time. It's the nature of the business."

"Is that what you tell your…Probie Agents, or even Tony, for that matter, Gibbs?"

The Senior NCIS Agent had walked right into that one. "No Duck, but this is different…."

Before he could finish the NCIS Forensic Pathologist jumped on what he was going to say. "Ah, because I am you friend, right Jethro?"

"Duck," Gibbs was beginning to tire of this psychological game.

"Ah, but don't you see, Jethro? Based on what I've learned about the Captain through the autopsies up to this point…well, it should have made me realize…"

"Realize what?"

"That *he* fired the shots that killed Lieutenant Dodge. I have no doubt that he has been involved in all the other deaths over there as well. He is a dangerous man, Jethro. Abby was right in warning you; do be careful."

"I always am Ducky. Now stop stewing over what you learned about Lewis,"

"Very well,"

The silver haired NCIS Agent could tell that 'very well' meant 'only because you're telling me to do so'. He decided that revealing to Ducky what the JAGs had found might get his mind back on track.

"And tell Abby to pull up all the info she can find about the Captain. I've got a report from Commander Rabb about Captain Lewis that I'll be sending to her that she can use as a starting point."

"All right, Jethro," Gibbs could tell Ducky was still thinking about his problems with Captain Lewis. Like a dog with bone….

"Bye Ducky."

Gibbs smiled as he closed his phone and entered the interrogation room where Sturgis and Sedrick Phillips were waiting for him.

Sedrick looked up morosely at Gibbs as he entered the room. Sedrick had not had a good day and it was about to get worse. "Why are you smiling?"

Gibbs ignored the former RIC's comment. He looked at Sturgis. "My team confirmed what your Lieutenant had suspected, Commander…."

"That Secord had used a specially designed rifle to kill Dodge?"

"Nope; that *Lewis* had used a specially designed rifle to kill Dodge."

Gibbs saw that the accusation had the desired effect on Phillips. His eyes began shifting quickly around the room and the NCIS Agent could see Sedrick had gone from miserable to panicky.

"Something you want to say Sedrick?" Gibbs asked with right amount of disdain in his voice.

"I want immunity—I mean, I need you to protect me."

Gibbs smiled and shook his head. Sturgis folded his arms and stared down at the former NCIS officer. "We gave you an offer of immunity, Mr. Phillips. As I remember it, you asked for immunity in return for your confession and then you turned around and rejected it."

"Well…the situation has changed; I would like immunity…for my testimony…and a guarantee of protection."

Gibbs and Sturgis regarded each other for a moment.

"I respectfully request protection in exchange for my testimony," Sedrick repeated, a little more forcefully this time. "Please."

Gibbs shook his head. "No; you talk, or we let it slip to Lewis that you ratted on him."

Genuine fear showed in Sedrick's eyes. He turned to Sturgis Turner. "Commander? Commander, legally you can't let that happen-"

Sturgis coolly gathered his materials. "I'll file a protest with Major Barnett on your behalf, Mr. Phillips…." His voice was very professional sounding…and devoid of any emotion. It was not the sympathetic voice Sedrick had expected, had hoped, to hear.

"You're leaving?" Sedrick's voice went up an octave.

"I need to confer with your attorney…" The same noncommittal professional tone.

Sedrick nearly leaped out of his chair. "Confer? About what?"

Sturgis stopped gathering his papers and cut his eyes toward Sedrick. Loathing and contempt filled the features of Chaplain Turner's son. "Your intransigence with regards to helping us find the killers of Lieutenant Dodge, Captain Butler, PFC Krivstad, Corporal Grearson, and Sergeant Colwell-"

"Give me protection and I'll tell you anything you want," he bargained.

Gibbs shook his head. "Nuh uh; you tell us what we need to know, and we'll think about giving you protection."

"You don't understand," Sedrick said now close to a full blown panic attack.

Gibbs slammed his hands on the table, making Sedrick Phillips flinch. "What don't we understand? You're the one who told us you didn't want immunity, much less protection! You haven't given us anything we haven't learned about through our own investigation-"

Sedrick was at loss. He had tried every gambit he could think of, but this time he wasn't going to win. He had lost and even worse, his loss would betray the cause. He would have to be a traitor in order to save his life. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes like a man stepping off a ledge. When he opened them again, he looked down at the table. "I..I was visited…by someone representing Captain Lewis…."

Sturgis and Gibbs exchanged looks of doubt.

"Visited when—today?" The former Dolphin was having trouble believing this - after all, Sedrick had lead them down false paths before.

Sedrick licked his lips. A single head nod.

Gibbs wasn't buying this. "Someone representing Lewis? C'mon Sedrick; give us something more solid to work with!"

Sedrick looked around as if there were listening devices planted on the walls. "You don't understand; this person has Captain Lewis' ear. He told me things-"

Gibbs had had enough of this subterfuge. "I want names Sedrick! Names and facts!" He emphasized the last part by banging his fist on the table in front of Phillips.

Sedrick nearly leaped out of his chair in shock. Both men were puzzled by the Regional Investigative Coordinator's collapse.

Sedrick looked at both Jethro Gibbs and Sturgis Turner for moment, and then meekly nodded. "Yes…. Okay…. The soldier who visited me…he's a Gunnery Sergeant…."

Gibbs rolled his eyes…more vagueness.

The former RIC could tell he was losing his audience. "All right, all right! H-His name is Galindez…Master Gunnery Sergeant V-Victor Galindez."

Sturgis paused. "Master Gunnery Sergeant?" He hoped he hadn't given away that he knew Victor. Apparently Gunny was on an undercover assignment. Whatever his role in this little charade he had Sedrick spooked. Really spooked.

And what was he doing visiting Sedrick Phillips?

Gibbs though, didn't have to worry about exposing Victor. He didn't know him, except as the soldier who had found Sergeant Rathum's body. "So who is this…Galindez?"

"He worked…works with Captain Lewis…and Colonel Livingston. Only he is not Master Gunnery Sergeant Galindez, he is actually Master Gunnery Sergeant Hector Bustamante." Both the JAG Attorney and NCIS Agent moved closer to former Regional Investigative Coordinator Phillips.

The silver haired NCIS Agent got right in Sedrick Phillips' face. "So? Why is this important to us, Sedrick?"

Sedrick cleared his throat and lowered his voice so only the JAG Corps attorney and the NCIS Agent could hear him. The fear in his voice was palpable. "He is better known as…Cesar."

Harm was back up on Vulture's Row. But his mind wasn't on the planes taking off and landing. He had just had a heated argument-first with the CAG, and then with Captain Ingles. Both had denied his request to be on one of the over flights over Camp Chesty Puller.

The good news was that no one was killed in the insurgent attack. The bad news was, he still hadn't heard from Mac. Was she among the injured?

Dammit! Why was he letting her make him crazy like this? He had sworn a long time ago he would never let someone get this close to him again. His public breakup with Annie over what had happened on the Tiger Cruise had been painful, and then there was Jordan and more recently, Renee. Maybe he was wrong; instead of Mac, maybe he was the one who had girlfriends who were dead or wished they were.

But it took a toll on him too; it seemed that everyone he loved or cared for strongly always disappeared from his life. Was this going to be Mac's fate as well? Was she just another someone he would love briefly, only to have her die tragically or the romance publically disintegrate?

He pulled out his cell phone and looked at it again. Nothing. Arrgh! He wanted to throw the phone overboard, but that would be a stupid move, no matter how momentarily gratifying it might be.

Besides his phone couldn't pick up calls from shore. He knew that. Out of frustration with this whole situation he was expecting the impossible.

He didn't see Nicole quietly settle in beside him.

Harm let out a frustrated breath as another F-18 was catapulted into the steamy afternoon Persian Gulf air.

"Commander,"

Despite his best effort, Harm jumped. "Supergirl, I didn't hear you come out…."

"Little hard with all these planes taking off to hear anything," she quipped giving him a quick smile.

Harm couldn't help smiling himself. He was glad that their relationship was on a more solid footing. You can't have a wingman who hates your guts.

"If you don't mind me asking, Hammer, are you okay?"

Harm gave her a wry smile as a Tomcat slammed to the deck. "Just worried about a friend," he answered evasively as the roar from the jet fighter's engines died down.

Nicole Hollands nodded her understanding. "She's based at the Marine camp attacked by the insurgents." Nicole said more as statement instead of a question.

Harm turned and gave her a surprised look. "How did you know I was referring to a she?"

Nicole gave him a sideways glance. "Your mood. The way you keep checking your cell phone. And the, uh, spirited conversations you had with the CAG and the Captain."

Harm looked away from her and back at the flight deck. A Grumman Hawkeye glided to a landing. He couldn't deny that his conversations with both men had been 'spirited'.

"You heard about those," Harm said in that lawyerly, matter of fact, 'oh that's not important' tone of his that he had perfected during countless pre-trial negotiations, discussions with opposing counsel and the like.

"Yup," Was her one word answer.

They both stood there for a moment and watched the flight crews getting another pair of planes ready for takeoff.

"She's very special to you, isn't she?" For a moment, Nicole felt a finger of jealousy. She wasn't really sure why. After all, she already had a boyfriend….

Harm looked at his hands, because he didn't want to show just how attached he was to his 'friend'. "Very."

His one worded answer spoke volumes. She could almost feel the worry radiating off him. Harm's XO lightly touched his shoulder.

"She'll be all right," it was meant to be reassuring, but to her ears it came out sounding empty.

If Harm noticed, he didn't let her know. He gave her another sardonic smile. "I know, she's a Marine. She'd kick my six if she knew I was up here worrying about her…."

Nicole had to laugh at that comment. Yep, that woman was one lucky person.

They both watched as another Tomcat, which had moved up to the catapult, was launched into the clear blue afternoon sky.

The door to Vulture's Row opened. Both Harm and Nicole turned to see a Seaman.

"Uh, Commander Rabb? Sir, you have a call from the ship to shore operator,"

Harm exchanged an anxious glance with Nicole.

"Go," she said gently.

Abby was doing a dance to her techno-music. She was feeling much better now that she had warned Gibbs. (Boy, who would have ever thought that plain little Darcy would become such threat?) She thought as she continued her frenetic dance.

She did it partly as exercise – which you don't get a lot of in an NCIS Forensic Lab, but also partly to take her mind off all the bizarre things that had taken place since NCIS had become involved in this case.

Darcy certainly had changed. From the quiet shy girl in elementary school who could disappear into the wall she was standing next to, to a manipulative boy hungry teen in high school, to an up and coming socialite when she became engaged to Beauregard D' Acerville heir to the D'Acerville plantation and their family fortune, (…to Marine officer, I mean, who would've ever thought?)

Her computer beeped, indicating it had finished its analysis of the clothing of the dead members of Secord's 'inner circle'. The flashing icon was not good news. No matching fibers or chemicals found - save for what you would find on all combat soldiers.

Abby shook a disapproving finger at her computer display. "That's not good enough," she said admonishing the computer. "You were supposed to find me a link between these guys and Darcy Livingston – Gibbs is going to freak when he finds out and I'm laying the blame squarely at your feet…!"

The computer's cursor continued blinking at her, unaffected by her tongue lashing.

Abby waved her arms around as if talking to an exasperating child. "How can you just sit there blinking at me?"

The computer didn't respond.

"Oh right, I forgot," Abby said in a snide tone, "I have to spoon feed you," She began typing furiously on computer's keyboard.

She finished with a flourish. "Now, as Gibbs would say; 'Find me a link between Secord's gang and Colonel Livingston!'"

The Radio-Telephone Operator in the Patrick Henry's communication room listened to the signal and then nodded. "Go ahead Commander."

"This is Commander Rabb."

"Hey Sailor." Mac, standing in a shed near the MEU practice range, didn't know why she did it, but for some reason she just had to use the nickname. Maybe it made him feel closer than he actually was.

Despite the static and sound of gunfire in the background, Harmon Rabb could hear the warm lilt in her voice.

"Mac! Are you all right? Where are you?" As he finished his query, Harm could hear the Staff Sergeants yelling 'cease fire, secure weapons'.

The Light Colonel was momentarily blown away by Harm's response. She felt her face begin to color and hoped that no one, in particular, especially Jac Lewis, was watching her. "I'm fine, Harm, I'm at MEU practice range." she managed to say calmly. "How are you doing?"

"Better now."

The Marine officer wasn't sure at first if that was overprotective Commander Rabb talking or Harmon Rabb, the man who loved her and was concerned about her well-being.

"What do you mean?" She asked, expecting the worst, praying for the best.

"I, I mean it's good to hear your voice…I've missed you…and I was little worried with all the gunfire in the background."

Mac smiled at his little joke. She continued the banter. "A little worried…"

Harm chuckled. "Okay, a *lot* worried"

Mac couldn't believe that this was Harmon Rabb she was talking to. It made her feel giddy inside.

Harm heard her quiet laughter.

"It's really good to hear your voice." He said again.

There was a momentary pause. Then Mac's voice came back stronger than before and somehow different. "It's good to hear yours, too."

Harm almost forgot the original reason he wanted to talk to her. "Mac, how bad was it?"

She knew he was referring to the rocket attack, but she also longed to tell him about Lieutenant Ebbits' death as well.

"It was a partial dud that hit the DFAC just as the lunch hour was ending. Both Sturgis and Bud are okay…."

"Sturgis and Bud?" He repeated stupidly.

The Commander could have hit himself. She wasn't just calling to talk to him; Mac knew Harm would be worried about the rest of the JAGMAN team.

"Abby? Who are you talking to?"

NCIS Probationary Officer Tim McGee stood in the doorway to Abby's lab; an extremely worried look filled his boyish face.

Abby turned around to see the young NCIS Agent. "Oh hiya, Tim! Sorry, I was dressing down my computer for not giving me the information I need." Abby acted as if this was a completely normal thing to do.

"Um, Abby, you do realize that is a machine, right?" In the back of his mind, he idly wondered if Abby had installed some of the sight impaired options on her computer so that it would talk to her. He knew a guy back at MIT who had actually programmed his computer with several pat vocal responses. If one wasn't listening carefully, they'd swear the computer was talking to him.

"Of course I do, Tim," she assured him in way that made it sound like he was the one doing something unusual. "It's just that I expected better from my computer. I mean, if I had done as poorly, Gibbs would have my head."

"Right." Tim said warily as he stepped into the room.

At that moment the computer beeped again.

Abby turned to face the monitor. "Now that's more like it," she said giving the monitor an affectionate pat. "You see? That wasn't so hard, now was it?"

Mac wondered if there was some kind of interference on the line. It sounded like Harm had repeated himself. "Yes Harm, they were in the Officer's Mess when the rocket hit. I figured you would want to know-"

"Yeah Mac, sure, thanks," he said abruptly, cutting her off. This was so frustrating; sure it was nice to hear her voice but he wanted more. More? What was he, a lovesick high school student? Why did he need more?

Okay, something was definitely going on with Flyboy. Time to bring him back to earth. "Harm? Harm!"

Mac's sharp insistent tone brought Harm out of his self examination. "I'm sorry Mac, I just got lost in thought…"

"About what happened with Bud and Sturgis?" It was an educated guess.

Harm picked up on the prod immediately. "With Bud, yeah…and even Sturgis." He added as an afterthought.

The Light Colonel sighed. "It's nice to see you boys are on friendly terms again," Mac said in a slightly sarcastic tone. Then she immediately regretted it.

"Hey, I've not been the only one butting heads with Sturgis," Harm rightfully pointed out. "C'mon Mac, I said I was concerned about him. Look, I'm glad he wasn't hurt."

Mac knew that rift between these two academic buddies was far from healed. There was something deeper going on, but she didn't have time to explore it right now. Moreover, she and the former Dolphin had their own conflicts to resolve. But all of this would have to happen later.

Right now, she needed the aviator/attorney to be aware of the big changes that were taking place.

"Harm, Colonel Livingston's planning something big. She's made me Acting Commander of one of her platoons. She's putting people she can trust into key positions in the unit…."

The JAG Naval Attorney zeroed in on Mac's key words. "Acting Commander, Mac?"

"The CO, Lieutenant Carlson Ebbits, was killed when we went on a recon mission. Harm, I think Darcy Livingston had him deliberately killed."

"Deliberately? Mac, are you sure?"

"Ebbits thought so just before he died. And so does another Marine in the unit…."

"What about everyone else in the unit?"

"They're calling it a tragic incident. Harm, Ebbits was alone on his side of the ambush zone. Those insurgents knew he was there. Someone tipped them off."

That someone being Colonel Darcy Livingston or Captain Jacques Lewis. "What about Colonel Livingston and Captain Lewis, Mac?"

"Plausible denial. She was overseeing the operation from a mile or more away. He was back at Forward Operations Base Metz. Neither one pulled the trigger, Harm, but they might as well have."

"What do you plan to do?"

Harm could hear the determination in her voice. "Get as much on them as I can, and more importantly, find out what they're really up to."

"Be careful, Mac," Harm said urgently.

Mac looked around at where she was and almost laughed. "It's a little late to tell me that, now, Flyboy, don't you think?" Then she added. "Harm, I'm a big girl, I'll be fine." In the past she would have left it at the sharp witty comment but for some reason she felt she needed to reassure him.

Her attempt at soothing his anxiousness only succeeded in raising his irritability level. "Maac,"

Normally the Light Colonel would have brushed off the Commander's one-word comment as over-protectiveness. But in this case, she knew it was something more. As she looked around, she saw that Darcy Livingston was headed her way. "I gotta go, Harm. Stay safe. Don't go chasing down any nuclear tipped missiles."

Harm felt as if his feet were being cut out from under him. He had so much more to say. "Mac, I-" the connection cut. "…Love you." The tall Naval Commander stood there for a moment holding the phone as the gentle buzz indicating the connection had been cut filled his ear.

"Sir? Has the connection been cut?" The Seaman didn't want to pry, but he really did need that phone back.

Without saying a word, Harm handed it back to the stoic Seaman.

"So what brings you down here, Special Agent McGee?" Abby's voice had a hint of playfulness at the edges, even though she was asking a serious question.

Tim McGee held up a manila padded mailer. "Just had this document arrive via courier from the Pentagon. It's from Commander Rabb."

Abby reached for the packet. "Really? Let me see…."

The Probationary Agent from the Norfolk Office held the package just out of her reach. It was a playful move. "Okay, let me get it open first…."

Abby pretended to sulk until Tim zipped open the folder and dug his hand in to retrieve the contents. Then she moved to look over his shoulder. Tim didn't stop her. He was looking at the cover on the document.

They both read the cover sheet at the same time "…Threat Assessment for the US and Coalition Forces…Summer 2003…."

Operations…?" Abby asked, then her eyes got wide. "An intelligence report?"

Tim's eyes were just as wide when he nodded and gave his reply. "From the Central Intelligence Agency…."

Abby began shaking her head. "Oh man, this is bad. The CIA? Gibbs won't like this; he won't like this at all…."

"Abby, he's the one who sent it."

But Abby wasn't listening. "I can almost hear his bark from Iraq." Her voice morphed into a rough Abby approximation of Leroy Jethro Gibbs' voice. "Abby! I want to know the connection between Captain Lewis and the CIA!"

"Today?" Tim said finishing her sentence.

She glared at him in what he figured was an approximation of the Agency-wide known 'Gibbs stare' "No Abby," she groused harshly. "…now!"

Tim nodded his understanding. He had heard that Special Agent Gibbs was a very demanding task master. "Oh." He quickly skimmed through the pages of the report. "Look Abby, there are some pages marked…."

Abby got closer to his shoulder as she looked at the current page. "Wow! Did you read this McGee?"

Tim was busy processing what he was seeing. He nodded absently. "I am…" Then he stopped reading and turned to look at her. "Oh boy…." He said with trepidation.

Abby nodded. "You said it. If that isn't a smoking gun, I don't know what is…."

Tim read a little further down and then pointed. "Look at this; it's some notes from a Colonel MacKenzie….

Abby pulled the page closer to her eyes and in turn got her face closer to Tim's. "She's one of the lawyers over at JAG Corps Headquarters. We, um, sort of got to 'know' her during the Singer murder investigation…."

Tim was trying hard to keep his mind on the document they were examining. "She interviewed…a Mr. Green at DSD about Captain Lewis…."

Abby's pretty Goth features grew puzzled. "DSD?"

Tim worked hard to answer her instead of kissing her. There was something about Abigail Sciuto that turned him on. "Um yeah, stands for the Defense Services Directorate used to be called Defense Security Division. They were under the State Department until 2001..."

Abby shook her head again. Tim was sure she was going to put her fingers into her ears. "Gibbs is definitely not going to like this…."

Before she could do that, the Probationary Agent pointed out something else on the page that might be better news. "Here's a note from…Commander Rabb."

Because Tim had pulled the document back down where he could see it better, she pulled it back closer to her face and in turn, they were closer together again. "That's the JAG Lawyer we first thought had killed Lieutenant Singer…."

Tim swallowed. (Keep focused on the case….) "I know; I followed the news accounts…."

Abby was oblivious to the effect she was having on him or at least that's what she wanted him to think. "Yeah, if it hadn't been for Tony, Rabb would be serving time in Leavenworth,"

(Focus on the info on the page….) "He's given us some web links and email addresses."

Again Abby got that confused puppy dog look. "Why?"

Tim thought about the many things he could do to himself to get his mind back on what they were doing. None of the options he could think of could he do without drawing Abby's attention, so he sighed as if the reason was patently obvious. "He thinks they're tied to Captain Lewis and…Colonel Livingston."

Abby was little taken aback by his 'snotty' response. She really did like Tim and thought he liked her, but that was from left field. Maybe she was flustering him and that's why he was irritated…good. If he was flustered by her close presence that meant he was interested in her. (Yes!)

Darcy strode over to where Mac was standing, watching her platoon doing calisthenics. If Darcy had not been so flustered by her 'discussion' with Colonel Briggs, she would have noticed that Mac had just come out of a nearby shed and pocketed her cell phone. Instead, she was concentrating on planning her orders for her newest 'recruit'.

"Colonel MacKenzie," The Force Recon Colonel called out as she made her way toward Mac.

"Colonel," Mac replied giving her a brief acknowledgement but seemingly unruffled by Darcy Livingston's sudden appearance.

Darcy gave her a slight smile. Her coolness was another reason the Force Recon commander had recruited her. "How do you feel about taking on a little recon mission for me?"

Mac gave her a sarcastic smirk then turned back toward her exercising soldiers. "It's probably a little better than watching these Marines exercise," Mac quipped drily.

Darcy gave that snide little chuckle that the Light Colonel was beginning to despise.

"Well Cher, you're going to get the chance to find out. Colonel Briggs needs to know the location of the insurgent unit that fired that rocket into the camp. By noon tomorrow."

If that stipulation was supposed to rattle Mac, it didn't. Without turning back to Darcy, the Light Colonel nodded. "I'll assemble my platoon immediately, ma'am."

"I knew you were a good choice for my unit, MacKenzie."

Mac reasoned that she had to make her support of Darcy look believable. While looking for Sahood's men, Mac would also find out who else in this platoon were loyal to Darcy and responsible for Lieutenant Ebbits' death. As far as the JAG Corps Colonel knew at this point, the only person who wasn't a Darcy supporter was Sergeant Casmir Szymas.

Everyone else at this point, including her 'aide-de-camp,' Kayce Danvers, was still suspect. Mac could ill afford to show faltering allegiance. She'd have to work carefully to find Ebbits' assassins, and discover what Darcy Livingston's real mission was.

"GUNNERY SERGEANT DALLAS! HAVE THE PLATOON FALL IN!"

The most senior Gunnery Sergeant to Master Gunnery Sergeant Wilbane gave Mac a quick nod. "AYE MA'AM! STAFF SERGEANTS! HAVE YOUR TEAMS FALL IN!"

As Dallas and the staff sergeants got the platoon into formation, Darcy moved closer to Mac and lowered her voice.

"Oh, and Colonel…" she began pleasantly.

"Yes ma'am?" (Now what?) Mac thought, irritation lacing her unspoken thoughts. She knew that Darcy's pleasant tone meant something unpleasant was in the offing.

"I'm giving you a replacement. He won't fill the Lieutenant's shoes, but I'm sure you'll find him to be very useful."

Mac wasn't about to bite at that bait. "I'll find anyone who can handle a rifle and my orders to be useful, ma'am."

The Force Recon CO nodded in agreement. "Oh, he can handle a rifle and then some, Colonel. He'll provide you with the CBR equipment you'll need for this mission…."

The Light Colonel addressed her platoon directly. Orders, she said, were coming from Colonel Livingston and they were being given the honor of hunting down the insurgent missiles.

That brought an 'Ooo-Rah!' from the assembled group. To Mac they certainly sounded eager about doing this. But how many would be working to sabotage their efforts? Right now, she honestly didn't know.

Ignoring those disturbing thoughts, she went on to tell the assembled Marines that the Colonel had advised that someone would be arriving shortly to fill them in on the details of the plan.

Then she ordered Gunnery Sergeant Dallas to have the men fall out but stay in the immediate area. Dallas and the unit Staff Sergeants did as requested. Mac could see some of them recon soldiers were keeping their eyes on her while others tended to their rifles or personal gear.

When he was sure that she had finished, Master Gunnery Sergeant Wilbane asked Dallas and the staff Sergeants to meet with him. Mac thought about countermanding that order, but decided to see where this lead.

Instead she asked Kayce to join her in looking at topographic maps of the region north of Camp Chesty Puller.

Leaving the unit Sergeants to take care of any last minute problems, Wilbane, Dallas, and the others gathered in an informal semi-circle to discuss unit status and the coming mission.

Victor Galindez confidently strode onto the range, noting the group of non-coms clustered around at one end of it, obviously having a meeting of some sort. Rather than looking for the unit CO as he should have done, Victor decided to play his 'part' in this little game.

Some might have said his stride was more of a swagger. But then, he wasn't Gunnery Sergeant Victor Galindez, he was supposed to be Master Gunnery Sergeant Hector Bustamante-better known to his friends and enemies as Cesar. 'Cesar' didn't care that he hadn't talked to the unit CO first. He had business with the unit's senior non-com. A couple of Staff Sergeants looked up when they saw the Master Gunny approach. They did a quick double take and then barked.

"Master Gunnery Sergeant on the deck!"

The others started to react, but Gunny waved them off. "At ease guys, we're all Sergeants here."

Rudy Wilbane who had been lounging in a lawn chair he'd brought with him from the States, stood up and gave Victor a weasel-like grin.

"Well, as I live an' breathe; if it ain't ole 'Galindez.'" Rudy knew that the real Victor Galindez was moldering away in some unmarked grave in Afghanistan. Hector had taken Victor's place in 2nd Force Recon because he looked just like that sappy Gunny. Rudy hadn't realized that Hector had risen through the ranks so quickly.

Victor mirrored his smile. "Good to see you too, Rudy." Victor's smile evaporated when he looked at the other Sergeants.

"Would you gents excuse us?"

Dallas and a few of the Staff Sergeants exchanged puzzled looks with Rudy, but then quietly excused themselves. In a few moments, Victor was alone with the unit's Master Guns.

"Glad we didn't have to do this with a crowd around…Master Guns, you've been relieved. Pack your gear and get back to Colonel Livingston's office. ASAP."

Both men started to laugh, but Rudy's chortle started to falter as he could tell by the expression on 'Hector's' face that he was not kidding.

Rudy Wilbane's smile disappeared entirely, replaced by a look of fear mixed with disbelief. "You're serious?"

'Hector' grinned and clapped Rudy on the back. "You've got twenty minutes to get your gear and report back to Colonel Livingston. I promised her I wouldn't kill you outright the next time I saw you."

"W-Why Hector? What did I ever do to you?"

Victor grabbed the man like they were old buddies – only someone really looking for it could tell Victor was threatening Rudy. "Remember, Rudy, its Victor, not Hector. And it's not what you did it's what you didn't do." He patted him on the back again and then gave him a 'friendly shove' "Now get your seabag and pack your gear. You've eighteen minutes. I really don't want to kill you right here and now, but if you force me to, I will."

Rudy didn't say anything else. He hustled away from the range and the unit's new Master Gunnery Sergeant.

Gunnery Sergeant Dallas had watched the whole incident. "Where's the Master Guns off to?"

Victor gave Dallas a smile that contained little if any warmth. "Master Guns Wilbane has a job to do for Colonel Livingston. I'm his replacement."

Late afternoon was quickly turning into early evening, but Darcy didn't notice. She was busy contacting 'her people', letting them know that the big operation was getting underway.

No one queried her as to why the timetable had been moved up – the insurgent rocket attack had caused that. Gibbs and his Major Case Response Team were beginning to annoy her. They kept poking and prodding, turning up new evidence and making her contacts nervous. And though she had managed to turn Sarah MacKenzie and by a stroke of pure luck that goody-two shoe, Commander Harmon Rabb, had been sent to the Persian Gulf, the JAG officers who remained behind were making her life exceedingly difficult.

She thought about getting MacKenzie to get them to back off, but then she remember what Ricard had told her just before he was arrested. Gibbs and the JAG light Colonel had had a falling out, which meant that using Sarah MacKenzie to get them out of her hair was as good as pouring gasoline on a raging fire.

Especially where Gibbs was concerned.

No, she'd have to handle him differently. Killing him would be too thickheaded and draw unwanted attention to her operation. It was the kind of 'attention' that her plan could ill afford.

As she puzzled over what to do with the senior NCIS Agent, she noted her computer tech running a battery of programs on her laptop. She frequently did this kind of thing to keep the machine running smoothly. But what she was doing right now was different. Every time she opened a new program, she shook her head as if trying to chase flies away from her face.

"What is the matter, Corporal?" Darcy asked in a slightly irritated yet curious voice.

That immediately got the young computer tech's attention. "I'm seeing something strange…,"

she said in a distracted voice.

Darcy stood up at her desk. "Strange? Strange how, Corporal?"

The young tech shook her head. "I don't know…I think…"

"Think what, Corporal?" Now Darcy was getting worried. What else was going wrong now?

Corporal Darlene Prudle realized she wasn't making any sense to her boss. "I'm getting a weird feedback signal, ma'am."

Before the Force Recon commander could say anything else, Darlene nodded her head in confirmation that she had actually found something.

"There it is again, ma'am…." Darlene considered it an honor to have been picked to be in this unit. She would do anything for her CO to repay that debt. Anything.

"Can you isolate it?" Darcy said moving closer to the Corporal and her laptop.

The Corporal's grin beat anything ever offered by the Cheshire Cat. "Yes ma'am. They won't know what hit them by the time I get finished with them." Corporal Prudle eagerly began opening programs on the Colonel's laptop with lightning speed.

"Who are they?" Darcy said more to herself than to her Corporal as she watched her work.

But the Corporal didn't hear her CO's idle statement that way. She thought it was a direct request for information. "It's originating from the Washington Navy Yard…." She stopped and looked up at the Force Recon CO. "NCIS Headquarters."

Darcy Livingston froze for only a few moments, but Darlene swore she could see fear in the Colonel's eyes. Then the moment passed and Colonel Livingston took over again.

"Let me see that," Darcy ordered as she bent down to check the data. The Corporal sat back and let her have a full view of the screens' contents.

After examining it for a few moments, the Force Recon Colonel stood back and nodded. "So they want to see what I'm up to, eh? Well Corporal, by all means, let them see…."

"Aye, aye, ma'am," The Corporal leaned forward and began furiously tapping again on the laptop's keys. More programs popped open on the Colonel's laptop.

Mac's eyes widened when she saw the tall lanky Master Gunnery Sergeant headed toward her. Kayce took note of the Light Colonel's reaction, but didn't say anything. Mac handed the folded topographic sheet to her.

"Colonel, good to see you again," Victor said with the right amount of disrespect in his voice.

"Have you forgotten how to salute an officer, Master Gunnery Sergeant?" Mac replied coldly, working hard not to look at Victor's new rank. "And where is Master Guns Wilbane?"

"Wilbane had to run an errand for Darcy, you understand. And in answer to your other question, no ma'am, I haven't," Victor replied, a lecherous smile gracing his rugged features, as he threw her a crisp salute. "Just thought you'd cut me some slack after our last adventure together…."

"I *should* have had you charged with conduct unbecoming," Mac said heatedly as she returned his salute.

"But you didn't, ma'am," the Master Gunnery Sergeant replied. That lecherous taunting smirk returned. "But I'm not here to reminisce. I have your orders from Colonel Livingston."

"Then let's not waste anymore time. Corporal Danvers; escort Master Gunnery Sergeant Galindez back to the training area and have him assemble the platoon for the briefing."

"Aye ma'am," Kayce gave Mac a textbook salute and then turned to the tall dark Master Gunnery Sergeant.

"Lead the way, Corporal," Victor managed to say in a tone that oozed politeness.

Kayce almost forgot this good looking man was a senior non-commissioned officer. "Y-Yes Master Gunnery Sergeant," she stammered.

If anyone had been watching the Goth Forensics Lab Technician and the Probationary NCIS Agent from the Norfolk office, they would have thought this was part of a well-choreographed little skit.

Abby and Tim were busily clicking and tapping away in simpatico when Tim heard an unfamiliar chirp and looked up at his monitor.

He tapped a few keys in quick succession to confirm his suspicions. "They're onto us!" he announced. It had to be a 'they'; no 'he' or 'she' could have detected them this quickly.

"What? Oh crud! How did they spot us?" Abby asked, momentarily confused, then she began banging away at her keyboard as well, trying to lose whoever was trying to find them.

Tim's hands flew across his keyboard. "We must've triggered some kind of security alert. It doesn't match any of the systems currently in use by Marine Corps or any other Armed Forces branch…."

Abby watched as their screens began to vomit out a mountain of data. "McGee! Don't let them fry my baby!"

Tim noted that directories were being opened with sickening ease. A finger of dread prodded his stomach. They had to act fast or someone would soon be trashing their hard drives.

"Work with me Abby! I'm backing out of their system, but they've initiated a trace! We got to lose them before-"

Abby had already anticipated what he wanted to do. "Rerouting through Malaysia…now through South Korea!"

The MIT Grad shook his head as he tapped a succession of keys to close the portal they had just left. "It's no good; they're still tracing us!"

"They're going to find us!" Abby squeaked. Gibbs had warned her about the dangers of playing with hackers. 'Let the computer techs handle it' he had told her. He also told her that if they worked their way back to her machine and damaged it, he would be very slow about getting her a replacement.

Tim executed a quick series of commands. "I'll route us through a couple of civilian networks…no good…they're still tracing…."

Abby was frantic. "Gibbs will kill me if this machine gets fried!"

Tim continued to hammer at his keys when suddenly he stopped. Then he opened a command prompt and entered a code. He licked his lips and began to smile. "Don't worry, Abby, I have a plan…."

Abby was clueless. "What?"

Tim quickly explained. "We'll let them come to us…"

Abby watched in dismay as Tim began opening what looked like a network gateway portal into the heart of the main NCIS server. "What are you doing?"

"Putting the finishing touches on a fake portal into your server and a dummy directory that mimics your server and all the NCIS servers…filled with worthless duplicates of our files...of course…."

"McGee, you're a genius!"

Tim was quite proud of himself. "I created it one day as a lark…." His pride was dampened as the he watched the hacker's relentless pursuit "Uh oh. Get ready, here they come….."

"Come into my parlor…witchy woman…. …Tim! They're deleting the files!"

Tim gave the Goth NCIS Forensic Lab Specialist a reassuring grin. "Let them – it's all junk – but they don't know that…"

"They're also rewriting several files!"

He watched the speed with which file sizes changed. "Uh huh, they're also planting Trojan horses and they're doing a security scan of the directory looking for anything that can stop them…whoever she's got working for her, they are good…."

"Don't admire them McGee! Stop them!"

"They can't go anywhere Abbs, they're stuck in that dummy directory – to them it looks like the gateway to the entire NCIS Server. It will take them hours to figure out where they really are…and by the time they do…."

Abby Sciuto quirked a stern eyebrow at the junior NCIS Agent. "Did you just call me Abbs?"

Tim was momentarily chastened. "Uh, yeah, sorry. By the, uh, time they do, it'll be too late."

Satisfied with his answer, Abby smiled and slapped the monitor which was marking the progress of Darcy's destructive trace.

"You may be good, witchy woman, but we're better…." Spontaneously, she gave Timothy McGee a hug. "Thank you for saving my machine, Special Agent McGee."

Tim felt himself color, "You're, uh, welcome, Ms. Sciuto."

"It's Abby, Timothy. I called you Special Agent McGee out of respect, because you are a Special Agent."

"Um, okay, you're welcome…Abby."

-TBC…


	67. Chapter 66

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 66

A/N1: Disclaimers and other vital information can be found in story archive for …FMS which can be found in the chapter story notes.

A/N2: **~~** indicates flashback or dream sequence ( ) indicates the thoughts of a person. *~* indicates a scene shift not otherwise indicated by a JAG time stamp. ~~~ indicates a dream sequence.

A/N3: Thanks to my friend and beta Karen who is my sounding board and has helped me see this through. Kudos to AeroGirl, Mkim, Soleil, TZ, Janlaw and Mary Ann for providing their help and technical expertise. Also thanks to Lisa Griffon [Yahoo Shipper Group] for her continuing support.

A/N4: Warning for language. These are soldiers and sailors in combat situations. See the original disclaimer for details.

A/N5: Some of the slang you see being used by the aviators and Force

Recon members are actual slang you might encounter if you were in their environment. Nothing is to be inferred or implied - the slang is merely included to give a local flavor to the story.

1559 Local/1259 Zulu

Camp Chesty Puller

Force Recon Assembly Area

To anyone with average intelligence, it was plain to see that Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie did not like Master Gunnery Sergeant Galindez.

But these were not men of average intelligence, they had been chosen for Force Recon because they were the best of the best. Which meant not only could they tell that the Light Colonel loathed Master Guns Galindez, but that the senior NCO seemed to take great delight in this- which only seemed to make the platoon CO steam even more.

Mac was doing a good job at telegraphing her displeasure with Victor's presence while Gunny Galindez seemed to be having a ball playing the burr in Mac's saddle.

Kayce was sure there was an interesting story behind this, but she didn't dare ask the Marine Judge Advocate what the history was.

Victor seemed to puff up with self-importance as Mac introduced him as the new senior non-com.

"Men," Victor said to the crowd, intentionally ignoring Mac and Kayce, "Colonel Livingston has given you very a dangerous assignment. But she assured me that you can pull it off."

"YES MASTER GUNNERY SERGEANT!" the platoon roared back.

"Outstanding! Gunny Dallas! Will you help me distribute this material to the unit, and I'll finish the briefing after we do this…."

Gunnery Sergeant Dallas moved toward the front of the assembled group, eager to get his working relationship with the senior Sergeant off on the right foot. "Aye, aye, Master Guns."

Within a few minutes, each person in the platoon had been given chemical detector kits, detector paper, spiral notepads and a copy of Darcy Livingston's 'commander's guidance' for this mission.

Dallas made sure that each six-man team had Chemical Agent Monitors. It looked like a bag for a camera like the news media types carried, but inside was a device that could quickly detect the presence of chemicals and what dangers they posed to the team.

As this was being done, Sergeant Williams made sure each of his pickup trucks had a portable Chemical Agent Alarm installed. The Alarms looked like small olive drab drink coolers with a large carrying handle and a black cable attached between two nodes.

As the last of these monitors and alarms were being distributed, Victor Galindez got to the heart of his briefing:

"…both terrorist leaders, Samir al-Sahood and Hammad Faoud al Harib managed to spirit their chemical 'cocktail' out of the Darunta training camp and, according to CIA and DIA intelligence, they are in the process of attaching their warheads to missiles on board operational FROG and SCUD missile launchers…." He paused for emphasis "Launchers that have been hidden somewhere north of Mirbullah….

That caused more than a few murmurs from the assembled group. Mac remembered what Clayton Webb had sent in that report. She could even hear Webb's voice competing with Victor's:

"…ACIT has confirmed what e-mail and cell phone communication verified…an Al-Qaeda cell in the Mirbullah area, under the command of Samir al-Sahood, divisional leader for the An Diwaniyah region, is receiving help from within…the 36th Marine Expeditionary Unit….

As 'Master Guns' Galindez continued with his briefing and moved into giving details of the platoon's warning order, Mac could still hear Clay's voice as clear as if she was standing right next to him.

"…It is considered highly likely that within the next 96 to 120 hours, former regime elements and members of the Mirbullah cell will attempt a disruptive attack on Coalition forces near the Multi-National Defense - Central. This attack is believed to have a 90-96% probability of using weapons of mass destruction – most likely chemical or biological in nature…."

"A 90-96% probability of using weapons of mass destruction…chemical or biological in nature…."

"Ma'am?"

Mac looked over at Kayce Danvers. A look of deep concern was etched into her face. "Is there something else about this mission that he's not telling us?"

"No Corporal," Mac said quickly, maybe too quickly. "I just want to get out there and stop them before they can launch those missiles." A brief smile flitted through her features as she said this.

Kayce gave her a less than convincing acknowledgement. "I know ma'am, we all want to stop them too."

Mac wondered if that statement truly held any validity. Already Master Guns Wilbane, most likely with the help of others, had managed to eliminate Lieutenant Ebbits, this unit's former commander. Mac wondered how many other innocent Marines had died this way? How many more would die during this mission? Would she and Gunny be able to stop them?

She turned her attention back to Victor who seemed to wrapping up his 'pep talk'.

"…and make sure your CAMs are in working order. Anyone who has damaged paper or detector kits let me know ASAP. We cannot afford to have anyone going into this situation sleepwalking."

"AYE AYE MASTER GUNNERY SERGEANT!"

"After we finish here, get out your chemical uniforms. I want everyone to have their battle dress over garment on before we leave here. No over boots or gloves until I give the word."

"AYE MASTER GUNNERY SERGEANT!"

1315 Zulu/0815 Local

NCIS Headquarters

Washington Navy Yard

Teresa Coulter sank down in the plush overstuffed easy chair upstairs lounge area and rubbed her eyes. She and Doctor Mallard had been reexamining every bit of evidence they had obtained from Mirbullah. That included each and every body as well, save Lieutenant Dodge's.

"Tired Commander?"

She turned around in the chair to see Ducky Mallard, standing there still dressed in his surgical scrubs. She had changed out of hers before she sat down. She tried to give him an appreciative smile for his concern.

"Beyond tired Doctor…" she quickly corrected herself with a half embarrassed smile; her response had been automatic-not taking into account the dinners they had shared. "Sorry, I meant, beyond tired, Ducky."

The NCIS Medical Examiner emitted an equally tired chuckle as he pulled up another overstuffed chair next to hers. "That's all right, my dear, it's quite understandable…we have been going at it…rather fiercely."

"What did you expect us to find, Ducky? What are we looking for?"

"Frankly Teresa, I don't know." She gave him a puzzled look. "Well, actually, I was hoping we would turn up some piece of evidence that would help nail those traitorous Marines."

"You mean besides what we've already found?"

"Yes." Donald Mallard got up from the chair and walked over to the window in this small waiting area. "There has to be something we're missing. Something that will conclusively tie our killers to these murders."

Teresa got up from her chair and walked over to him. She understood what he meant. The Medical Corps Forensic Examiner hated to leave a job, any job, in what she thought was an unfinished state. Even if it looked like all possible evidence had been found. It had been that way when they were tracking Kabir Atef and his Russian plutonium. Teresa had made double and triple sure they had not overlooked a single body or a single clue on that occasion as well.

Like Dr Mallard on this case. Something was driving him, almost to the point of obsession, to find a link between these bodies and the killers. She guessed that 'something' was trying to help his long time associate, Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

She lightly touched his hand and gave him a tender smile. "Let's go see if Abby found anything new…."

Major McBurney sat looking at his corkboard wall. On it was a set of 3x5 index cards – they contained all the information they had on this case up to this point - the ambush of the 36th MEU in Mirbullah, Dodge's death, Krivstad's, Captains Butler and Jalloud, Colwell's and Grearson's, the wounding of Leftenant Prine and Corpsman Hazon, the attack on JAG Headquarters, Lukens' and Buell's exoneration, Secord's admittance of guilt, Rathum's and Lieutenant Ebbits' deaths, and the DFAC rocket attack. And that didn't include all the little incidents that occurred in between.

In the lower left corner was one card that seemed out of place because it had nothing to do with the case, except for the name of the person on it.

Lieutenant Commander Coleman.

The JAG Liaison to NCIS kept looking at the card and occasionally, he would glance at his desk clock.

Then his eyes would drift over to his phone and then back to the card.

Should he call?

And say what? 'Hey Commander, just thought I'd call and see how you were doing...you know, after that rocket attack and everything…'

He shook his head. Not only was it a lame excuse for a call, she would point that out to him in sarcastic detail.

Oh yeah, that would be perfect. She'd revel in telling him that she was just fine, and then just to make him squirm, she'd ask him why he'd wasted taxpayers' money by making this nonessential inquiry?

He could almost see that thin snarky smile of hers as she waited for his bumbling answer.

He shook his head again. Well, this certainly wasn't getting anything accomplished. Maybe he should go down and check with Abby and see what else she'd learned….

That sounded like a much better plan. As he left their cubicle, he swiped one of Faith's neatly sharpened pencils out of the metallic cup sitting on her immaculate desk.

He started to head down the hall to the elevator when he stopped and looked back at her empty silent desk.

Quietly he walked back and dropped the pencil back in the cup.

With his luck, she'd probably notice that the pencil was out of place.

1630 Local /1330 Zulu

Camp Chesty Puller

Mirbullah, Iraq

To the uninitiated, Mac's unit now looked more like a group of Bedouins than it did a crack Marine unit.

Mac had long since decided Sergeant Williams and Corporal Burges were probably the most trustworthy drivers in this unit. She wouldn't exchange them for someone else on this operation – how did that saying go? 'Better the devil you know, than the devil you don't know…'. Williams and Burges had personally vouched for the third driver, Corporal Eddie Willet. That was good enough for Mac.

She was glad that Darcy hadn't ordered her to change drivers. That could have been awkward. She didn't need any other 'unknown quantities' to deal with. As far as she knew, there were only two people she could really trust at this point. Casmir Szymas and Victor Galindez.

At the moment, she had other things to worry about. Mac was working on getting her Bedouin outfit to cover her tan Nomex flight suit uniform with its ballistic inserts and kneepads, and thigh tactical holster in such a way that it wouldn't look too odd. Her headdress partially concealed her headset.

She was glad there wasn't a full-length mirror handy – her outfit was definitely not flattering.

The only thing that made her feel marginally better was that Corporal Danvers looked slightly worse. The rest of her unit didn't look any better. Hopefully they would be able to do away with this charade soon. Very soon.

She looked down at the chemical detector kit in her hands. That brought her back to the danger they were facing. Somewhere out there, a terrorist unit had chemical munitions and was readying them for use. All she had to do was keep the traitors from killing her and Gunny before they could stop the terrorists….

Not too tall of an order.

"You ready ma'am?" Mac looked up and saw it was her aide. Kayce smiled. "Begging your pardon ma'am, but you look the way I feel."

Mac cocked an eyebrow at her unit's heavy recon sniper. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Corporal," she quipped dryly as clipped her detector securely to her gown.

Kayce Danvers realized she was again skating dangerously close to insubordination, but she couldn't help it. "Sorry ma'am, I didn't mean any disrespect, but do you really think these will fool anyone?"

"At a distance, yes…." she said in her best confident officer voice as she ignored the baggy image in the mirror.

Kayce didn't sound convinced. "If you say so, ma'am."

Mac turned back to the young woman. "Danvers, we're part of a pilot program. If this doesn't work, the likelihood of women being allowed on combat operations will disappear. We have to make this succeed." As she said this she could hear Colonel Presser telling her that someday women would have to fight.

Though the young Lance Corporal had been briefed on this, apparently it had not sunk in just how important a part they were playing. "So if the operation fails, it's our fault?"

Mac understood her concern, but she had to temper the young woman's bruised feelings with a dose of cold harsh reality. "If the operation fails, yes, they will blame us. We'll be the convenient scapegoats."

"That makes me feel so much better, ma'am." Kayce clearly wanted her CO to know just how she felt about that.

It was borderline unruly, but Mac understood you had to let the enlisted speak their mind [within reason] or suggestions for valuable improvements might get trampled.

She gave the Corporal a winsome smile. "I knew it would, Corporal, now let's get out there to our transport, we've got a lot of ground to cover this evening."

Having said her piece, Kayce was ready to do her best to make sure they didn't fail. Or at least she sounded that way. "Aye, aye, ma'am."

As they stepped out of the building where they had dressed, Mac and Kayce almost ran headlong into Darcy Livingston. The Force Recon leader gave them a bemused look.

"Well Colonel, you and the Corporal would have *fooled* me."

Mac gave the Force Recon CO a wan smile. "Would you rather that we just wear our Bedouin outfits, ma'am?"

Darcy gave the Marine Judge Advocate a cold smile. "I could say yes, but that would be both impractical and dangerous. No, you need these outfits to blend in as you pass into their territory. And, you'll need everything stowed in your uniforms once you find al-Sahood's hideout."

"Just wanted to be sure we were doing as you wish," Mac made sure her comment was a little pointed. It had the desired effect. Darcy didn't like people who challenged her or her decisions.

"This is a very important mission, MacKenzie, and I want to know that you won't screw it up."

Mac looked Darcy straight her eyes. The unsaid part referred to the Colonel's drinking habits. Kayce unconsciously sucked in a breath when she saw the look in Mac's eyes.

Mac moved closer the Force Recon CO. Her voice was calm, but her tone was laced with anger. "If you don't think I can do this job…you're welcome to relieve me…ma'am."

Darcy and Mac stood face to face, neither one flinching. For the longest of moments, Kayce thought Colonel Livingston might actually relieve her CO.

Instead, Darcy smirked and shook her head. Mac had called her bluff. "Ah, Cher, I should have warned you. Our unit is bit different from other military units. All of my Marines are well trained and seasoned veterans."

Before Mac could ask what she meant, Darcy continued. "Keep in mind that they won't just salute any brass that blows through my unit…that is, unless I tell them to. When you become part of my unit, you not only have to earn my respect, but the respect of everyone in the unit. From the privates all the way up to me."

Mac didn't say anything. She was sure there was a point to this cryptic message. One she was sure she would find out about soon enough.

Darcy nodded again. "Looks like you're ready, Colonel. Let's go see if your platoon is *as ready* as *you* are."

1359 Zulu/0859 Local

The Pentagon

Navy Annex

"Thank you, Lacey." Edward Sheffield said as his secretary put the requested reports in his in-box. He never looked up from the memo he was composing.

The slight dark haired woman gave the SecNav a small smile as she turned and the left the room.

It was unusual for Edward Sheffield to be here this early, but since the attack on the Welles building in Falls Church, better known as JAG Corps Headquarters, the Secretary of the Navy had had his hands full and thus spent many long days and nights in his Pentagon office.

There were calls to field from the three major networks, as well as CNN, FOX, and ZNN, not to mention the Washington Post and the New York Times, USA Today and all the national magazines. And that was just the national press. The international press was also clamoring for information as well. Each answer to a query had to be carefully crafted to maximize support for the US cause and de-emphasize the negative impact the attack had on US fighting capability or the functionality of the Navy JAG Corps.

Lacey and her staff had done an excellent job with the monumental task of organizing and choreographing everything.

But now another situation was stirring that demanded the attention of the SecNav and his staff.

Admiral Chegwidden's combined JAG/NCIS investigative team had found conclusive evidence that there were indeed traitors within the 36th MEU's Force Recon detachment. It was these subversive elements that had been responsible for the 36th's abortive attack into Mirbullah, a string of suicide attacks on the Marine unit, the attack on JAG Headquarters and now a rocket attack on the 36th MEU's dining facility.

And if that wasn't enough to try and deal with, the MEU CO Ashton Briggs was asking for permission to carry out a punitive mission against an insurgent stronghold northwest of their position.

With Operation Desert Scorpion and its attendant operations underway, it would be easy enough for the 36th to enter the fray. But the implications of sending in a unit already dogged by problems, and currently the focus of a criminal investigation, would give the media fits.

SecNav Sheffield readjusted his reading glasses as he read the situation report for the 36th MEU. It seemed though, like a logical request. After all, the 36th was the closest unit to the insurgent area.

The problem was a lack of solid intelligence regarding insurgent strength in that area.

Plus the worry about those missing chemical missiles.

Still, he wasn't going to make the same mistake as his predecessor, sending in JAG attorneys to do the work of CIA Agents and Special Ops soldiers. No, Briggs would have to find someone else to do that intel work for him. The CIA was better suited to this kind of work.

Besides he had already approved Commander Brad May's SEAL platoon being used to scout for the insurgent missile site and to keep an eye out for the suspected traitors. He wasn't going to give any other assets to the CIA.

Speaking of which, he wondered if the CIA would try to wrest Commander Rabb away from Captain Ingles….

He chuckled at that thought. Not likely.

Ingles and the other carrier commanders in that region were running dangerously low on qualified pilots, thanks to that debilitating flu bug. He seriously doubted that Ingles would let Rabb go that easily.

DDI Kershaw and DCI Watts would probably fuss and fume about not having access to their agent-in-place, but having enough aircraft to support the current anti-insurgent operations took precedence in this case.

Things were coming to a head in Mirbullah and the SecDef would want to be briefed on what he knew. That meant another late night for Edward Sheffield, gathering reports to create an executive summary.

As he started to compile his papers, a thought occurred to him. He reached over and flipped on his intercom. "Um, Lacey, would you mind making another pot of coffee? It's going to be another long day…."

The reply was immediate. "Yes, Mr. Secretary." His secretary had anticipated he would be making this request and had already been filling the hard working coffee maker.

1710 Local /1410 Zulu

Camp Chesty Puller

Mirbullah, Iraq

"Are you sure you don't want to exchange your drivers for some of my men, Colonel?"

(Damn) Mac quickly shook her head. "Thank you ma'am, but no, I'd like to keep Sergeant Williams, Corporal Burges and Corporal Willet."

Darcy seemed to be distracted by something for moment, but then she shrugged her shoulders.

"Suit yourself, Colonel."

(Whew, dodged that bullet…) Mac thought as they continued to walk toward the staging area.

As they approached, Master Gunnery Sergeant Galindez sang out.

"COLONEL ON DECK!"

The platoon members dropped what they were doing and quickly assembled into formation.

Darcy turned once more to Mac. "Looks *like* they're ready also, Colonel." Mac heard the faint tone of condescension in Darcy's words. She ignored it.

"Well, I'll leave you and the Master Guns to get this expedition underway, MacKenzie. Remember, we're counting on you."

"Carry on, Master Guns." Darcy walked away from the unit and back toward her waiting HMMWV.

Victor gave her a crisp salute. "Aye, aye ma'am! Platoon! Aten-hut!" Then he turned back to Mac and gave her a churlish look. "They are all *yours* Colonel."

Mac looked out at the sea of faces. Which one of them would try to kill her and Gunny tonight?

She cleared her throat.

"I won't waste your time with rah-rah speeches. We lost one of our own to these thugs and I know, like me, you are aching for revenge…."

The silence was palpable.

"We have a job to do, let's do it. Let's show them how Force Recon does things. Dismissed."

There was only a moment's hesitation. "OOO-RAH MA'AM!"

And with that, the Recon Marines headed for their trucks.

All except for Master Guns Galindez. He stood there grinning and shook his head. "Great speech, ma'am, 'we have job to do, let's do—

Before he could finish Mac was in his face, nose to nose.

Mac's brown eyes glinted fiercely. "Do you have a problem with me, Master Guns?" she snapped.

For the first time, the Master Gunnery Sergeant's smirk disappeared. "I-"

"I SAID; DO YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH ME, MASTER GUNNERY SERGEANT?"

"MA'AM! NO MA'AM!" he barked back.

"THEN I SUGGEST YOU LAY OFF THE SMIRKS, THE LITTLE COMMENTS AND THE OTHER NONSENSE! CFB, MASTER GUNS?"

"AYE, AYE MA'AM! CFB!"

Everybody within earshot of the Colonel knew that CFB was code for 'Clear as a Freakin' Bell'.

Mac wasn't through with her new senior Sergeant. "NOW GET TO YOUR TRUCK! YOU'RE WASTING MY TIME AND COLONEL BRIGGS' TIME! TIME, MASTER GUNS, WE DON'T HAVE TO SPARE!"

"AYE MA'AM!" If there was any hint of surliness left or anger with Mac and the way she had treated him, it didn't show. Victor hustled over to his truck and began getting his men settled.

"GUNNY DALLAS!"

The unit Gunnery Sergeant quickly made his way over to her. "Yes ma'am!"

Mac modulated her voice because she didn't have a bone to pick with the Gunnery Sergeant.

"Get everyone on board the trucks."

The Gunnery Sergeant gave her a smile of approval. "Yes ma'am!"

Eager to avoid his CO's wrath, Dallas began instructing the Staff Sergeants on the need for speed. In turn, the unit Staff Sergeants and Sergeants relayed to the others that they had squandered enough time.

Mac motioned for Kayce to follow her. "I want you to stay with me, Corporal."

If Kayce had any reservations about this, she didn't voice them. "Aye ma'am."

Mac got into the cab of the venerable Dodge truck first, followed by Kayce. Once both women were settled in, Mac turned to Corporal Burges.

"Let's get going, Corporal."

Burges started up the truck. "Aye ma'am,"

The young Corporal put his pickup in gear and pretty soon, the three-vehicle rag-tag convoy was headed away from Camp Chesty Puller and toward FOB Metz. Their orders were to skirt Mirbullah and then cut across the fields until they were back on a northeasterly course.

Mac's truck was in the lead, with Gunny Dallas taking the middle position and Master Guns Galindez securing their rear.

Victor was sitting in the bed of the truck, looking at the map he had of the area. He was glad to be back out in the field again. The assault on JAG Headquarters had reminded him why he'd rather be out here taking out the bad guys…because it gave them less of a chance to attack in the States. Somehow though, these terrorists managed to slip through, and Victor Galindez was eager to plug that gap. Not only for Anson Brewster's sake, but also for the sake of all those killed and wounded at JAG Corps Headquarters.

"She chewed the Master Guns a new one, didn't she?" someone said a low voice

There were some muffled chuckles along with a hushed warning that the 'Master Guns might hear them' above the noise being made by the Dodge truck.

Victor ignored them for now. He didn't want to do anything that might alert a bad guy in the unit that he really wasn't Hector. And since he really didn't know or trust anyone in this unit other than the Colonel, it was best to shrug off any whispered talk. He kept looking at his map.

The real Cesar knew all about where those chemical missiles were hidden, but he didn't and Hector sure wasn't going to tell him.

Cesar was cooling his heels in Charleston. And he would be there for a long time to come.

Victor's eyes scanned the topographic map. There were some low hills northeast of Mirbullah, they might be stashed there-

"Hey Master Guns, you glad to be back in the Sandbox?"

Victor looked up from his map. It was his team's Staff Sergeant, Reynolds. He had a big greasy looking grin stretched across his face.

Victor mirrored the smile. "I missed it, yeah. Iraqistan's like a second home to me."

"What are you lookin' at?" Reynolds, his recon clothes covered by the Bedouin outfit, looked like a pregnant whale, which perfectly fit his chubby face.

"Just trying to find the best angle of approach…" Victor said obliquely. If this man was a member of the bad guy's team, he might reveal that now-especially since he had treated Victor like an old buddy of his.

Reynolds almost laughed. "Best angle, that's a good one, man. We don't have to worry about that, now do we?"

There was his answer. Victor continued, smiling conspiratorially. "No, but I gotta make it look good, right?"

"Sure Master Guns."

Victor noted that Reynolds' sarcastic reply meant he didn't think that was worth doing, so he decided to treat him the way Cesar would.

He leaned over and spoke into Reynolds's ear. "If I don't 'look like' I'm figuring out our assault, it'll look suspicious, you idiot. Draw attention to what we're doing. And we don't want that, comprende?"

Reynolds nodded quickly. "Understood Hec-, uh… Understood, Master Guns," he said with a somewhat strained voice and sat back down. Victor gave him a 'good natured' pat on the leg.

"Good suggestion, Staff Sergeant," Reynolds hadn't made any suggestions, but it would cover their little discussion and was a face saving gesture for the Staff Sergeant. This was a good idea since Victor wasn't in any position at the moment to stop Reynolds. But at least now the 'Master Guns' knew at least one of his team members was a bad guy.

Reynolds nodded again, still totally flustered by 'Hector Bustamante's' tongue lashing. "Uh, Thanks, Master Guns."

(Just how many more bandits are aboard this truck?) Victor wondered.

1820 Local/1520 Zulu

USS Patrick Henry

Persian Gulf

The evening mess had actually been very appetizing, but Harm had only picked at his meal and ended up eating just half of it. He was worried about Mac, despite her reassurances over the phone. Nicole had tried to distract him with idle conversation, and to the casual observer it looked like Hammer was actually paying attention to Supergirl.

But she knew better. She knew that in his mind he was right there with his Marine, going on that dangerous recon mission. She wished she could take his mind off that, but knew it was really impossible.

Nothing was going to keep Harm from worrying about that Marine light Colonel. Nicole was quickly learning that Harm had an uncanny ability to stay focused on those things that were most important to him—despite all the chaos and chatter that might be swirling around him.

Her efforts to distract him from his worries had cost her the last of the available apple cobbler. Her stomach had protested about that, grumbling its displeasure as they made their way out of the officer's mess.

Harm obviously heard her stomach as he cocked a quizzical eyebrow at her. "Didn't you get enough to eat?"

Another low grumble rippled through her stomach as if in reply to his query. "Didn't feel like eating anymore," she said quietly, trying to hide her embarrassment.

Harm grinned at her, "Sounds like your stomach disagrees."

Nicole decided the best way to end this line of questioning was to throw the focus back on him. "I figured your stomach would be doing the same, you barely touched your dessert."

Harm gave her a lopsided smile. "Got a lot on my mind right now," he said absently.

Nicole watched as the smile melted away.

"Commander Rabb, Harm, do you have a moment?" Captain Natalia Seranovich was coming down the passageway carrying a sheaf of papers.

Harm winked at Nicole. "Lawyer stuff, do you mind?"

Nicole faked a yawn and glazed over eyes. "Not at all, counselor."

Harm gave her wry look and shook his head as she made her way past the two attorneys. "Good evening, Commander, Captain."

Seranovich aka 'Lawboss' gave her a puzzled look as she passed and then turned to Harm.

Harm shook his head. "It's a long story, what's on your mind, Captain?"

"Let's get out of this passageway," Lawboss pointed to an open doorway. Harm nodded his agreement.

Both entered the empty ready room and sat down at a table near the door. Natalia spread her papers across the tabletop.

"What have you got here, power of attorney changes for the whole wing?"

Lawboss shook her head, her dark auburn hair perfectly framing her face. "Wish it were that mundane, Commander. No, these are status sheets pointing to a need to alter our rules of engagement…."

Harm's eyebrows went up. "Alter our Rules of Engagement? Why? Are we expecting Iran to try something?"

Natalia shook her head again. "No, but the counter insurgency operations in Iraq are heating up, and Patrick Henry's squadrons may be called in to provide close air support. There's also intel that points to the insurgents having portable surface to air missiles…."

Nicole lay on her rack, skimming a paperback sci-fi novel she had picked up at their last port of call.

"I could write better stuff than this," she grumbled as she tossed the book to one side. Nicole could see someone sticking his head in the doorway.

"Supergirl? You busy?" It was Joseph Wayne, one of the pilots from the squadron.

"Nah, just killing time. What is it Rhino?" She motioned for the pilot to come in.

Wayne was never known for beating around the bush when something was on his mind. "What do you think about the 'old man'?"

Nicole had started to reach for her novel, but the question stopped her movement.

" 'Old man'? You mean-"

"-The Commander." He finished for her. "He's got quite a fan club on this boat, doesn't he?"

Nicole knew it wasn't outright disrespect. Rhino was new to the Patrick Henry, he didn't know about the Commander's history or his reputation. All he knew was that some older dog, a Reservist to boot, had been picked to lead the squadron. Keeping that in mind, the young pilot's question was a fair one.

"That 'old man' has two Distinguished Flying Cross awards, Rhino. One for saving the SeaHawk's CAG during the Balkan Crisis back in '95 and the second for saving SeaHawk from a dirty nuke missile just last spring."

To Rhino, like most young pilots, that was ancient history. "So why was he picked to lead our squadron, Supergirl? You could have done the job, Undertaker said so several times."

A couple of days ago, Nicole might have agreed with him and even been bent out of shape about not being picked to be squadron leader. After all, Rhino was right; Undertaker, their squadron leader, had named Nicole as his backup.

But life sometimes gives you a curveball and in this case, it turned out the Reservist they got happened to be one of the best leaders they could hope for. So Nicole didn't mind playing second fiddle to Hammer.

"Look Rhino, I know this sounds weird coming from me, but the guy is better than any other replacement we could have hoped for. Trust me, on this; we could all learn a few things from him."

Rhino wasn't convinced. "I've heard about his exploits, Nicole, and sure he got you in some dogfights, but anyone can get lucky up there-"

As Executive Officer, Nicole knew she had to try to stem any doubts the other pilots might be having. She held up her hand to silence him.

"Rhino, you'd do well to listen to that 'old man'. He might just save you from having to ride the nylon elevator someday."

-TBC…


	68. Chapter 67

FMS Chapter 67

1331 Zulu/0831 Local

NCIS Headquarters

Washington Navy Yard

John Michael McBurney had just reached the bottom of the stairwell when he heard voices coming from Abby's lab. He stopped and listened for a moment.

"I found it!" The muffled female voice was triumphant.

"Found what?" Was what the Marine Major thought he heard the male voice say.

"What we've all been looking for!" He could tell the female was exasperated, that could be Abby….

"Really? Where?" Confusion; he could now tell that was Tim McGee's voice. The probie Special Agent from the NCIS Norfolk office.

"Do you see that speck right there?" That was Abby's clear confident voice.

"Um…no," That voice was unsteady. It was definitely that of Special Agent Timothy McGee.

"Over here, McGee…" Abby's insistent voice, almost commanding. He knew Abby Sciuto could be that way sometimes. That was one of the intriguing things about her.

"Oh, that speck…." McBurney shook his head in empathetic sympathy. McGee would pay for that.

"Yes, *that speck*, and anyway, it's *not* a speck…." Abby's voice chilled about 10 degrees. Yep, he's gonna pay for that slip.

"It looks like a speck…." The probationary Special Agent offered as a defense. It was a tepid defense at best.

"Focus McGee!" Ouch.

That got him back on track. "Sorry; so, what is it?" Well, partially anyway.

Abby sounded almost frantic. "The missing link! You know, the thing that all of us, well Ducky, Commander Coulter and I, have been looking for…so we can nail Captain Lewis!"

"You really think that will be enough?" McGee's skepticism was his cue to enter.

"What did you find, Abby?" The JAG Major asked, as he strode through the parting Plexiglas doors and into Abby's lab.

Abby and Tim turned in surprise at his sudden entrance.

"Wow, Major, you're almost as good as Gibbs!" Abby gushed.

Tim's boyish face was torn between envy and hurt. At that moment John Michael McBurney wasn't too proud of himself. Sure he wanted to date Abby, but he didn't want to win her this way.

Before he could say anything else, Doctor Mallard and Commander Coulter walked into the room.

"Ah Abigail, I do hope you have found something Jethro can use…."

"Jethro?" Tim had no clue who Doctor Mallard was talking about.

Abby ignored Tim's query. She was beaming. "I have Ducky," she tapped some keys on her keyboard. "Look at this!"

On her oversize monitors was an image of a spent shell casing, enlarged several thousand times.

Ducky and the others moved closer. There was a moment of silence.

Commander Coulter was the first to speak. "A fingerprint?"

"Not just any fingerprint. A fingerprint from one Captain Jacques Lewis!" She clicked a few keys on her keyboard and her screen split, like a cell undergoing mitosis, showing images of other bullet fragments. "And not only here, but here, and here, and here!"

1835 Local/1535 Zulu

Somewhere north of Mirbullah

As soon as they reached FOB Metz, the Light Colonel's truck fell back and took the middle position in their little convoy. To any Fedayeen or insurgents watching, it would look more normal for the women to be in middle truck. They probably should have left the Camp that way, but Mac wanted to make sure she made a few visible 'mistakes' due to 'overzealousness'.

Besides it would give Darcy something to chuckle about and make the JAG Corps officer seem more innocuous and less of a threat to the Force Recon CO.

Mac scanned the early evening desert countryside, watching for signs of trouble. Kayce, sitting next to her, was remarkably relaxed, despite the fact her rifle was wedged between her legs.

Unless you were actually looking for it, Mac observed, the sniper rifle was difficult to see. The Marine Judge Advocate was pretty sure Kayce didn't intend to try and pull out her rifle in case they suddenly ran into trouble. She probably had a backup pistol.

Kayce turned and looked at her CO. "How many times have you been in combat, ma'am?"

It was an impertinent question, but considering the situation, Mac could understand why she was asking. This was a dangerous assignment. Their previous assignment, hypothetically anyway, was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance mission. Instead, it had turned into a full-fledged firefight which ended with the death of Lieutenant Carlson Ebbits and catapulted Mac into commanding this unit.

So she could understand why Kayce Danvers was asking the question.

When Mac did not answer right away, she noted that Corporal Burges was stealing looks at both of them.

"A few times," Mac answered her evasively. The Light Colonel could think of at least a dozen different times when she was in a 'combat' situation. Her taking command of that Embassy Marine security team in Indonesia was one and there were probably more, but after a while, they tended to blur together.

Of course, the ones that were freshest in her mind were her last mission with this group and of course, her assignment in the Paraguayan Chaco Boreal with Clayton Webb, Gunny Galindez and Harmon Rabb, junior.

"How many times does this make for you, Corporal?" Sometimes turning the question back on a subordinate is the best way to answer.

Kayce gave her a grim smile. Like she was doing something distasteful but necessary. "Counting our last mission together and my time in Afghanistan, ma'am, this will be my tenth time in combat."

1348 Zulu/0848 Local

JAG Headquarters  
>Falls Church, Virginia<p>

Tiner passed his electronic sniffer over another workstation. Nothing. He glanced at the clock by the television monitors…they had minutes before the Admiral's morning staff meeting for the attorneys ended, and a few more minutes before Lieutenant Sims would begin her part in this…operation.

When they had started examining workstations and desks the afternoon of Lieutenant Dodge's funeral, Harriet and Marla had gotten off to a pretty good start. Then paperwork and regular duties in the Bullpen slowed them down considerably. Even when Jason and Jennifer got involved after they got back from the funeral, the pace was still agonizingly slow. Several of those who had their stations examined inquired what was going on, but Jason didn't see that any of them were unduly interested. The term annoyed probably better described how most of them felt about this intrusion into what they considered their private space.

Jason looked across the Bullpen at Jennifer Coates who was passing a similar detector over another workstation. She lifted her head and shook it once, indicating she had not found anything either. He turned his head toward Sergeant Givers who was passing her detector over a workstation for the second time.

Jason knew he had to act fast or someone would ask what Marla had found. "Have you found something, Sergeant?"

Marla looked up at the sound of his voice. "No sir, I think this thing is glitching."

Before anyone in the Bullpen could say anything, Jason Tiner strode over to where the young Marine was standing. "Let me see it."

Marla quickly handed the matchbox sized device to him. He passed it several times over the workstation and frowned. "Yeah, it's not working right…c'mon Sergeant"

"Where are you two headed? Did you find anything?" It was Seaman Cathart. Cathart didn't strike Marla as the kind of guy who liked to play spy games, but then, that's precisely why he could be one.

Jason gave the Seaman a pained expression. "No, this thing's got faulty wiring. Like all things built by the lowest bidder…."

Cathart looked genuinely disappointed. As they moved away from him, he suddenly brightened. "Hey, can I go with you? I've never been to the tech area before; I hear they have a lot of cool stuff down there."

Marla and Jason exchanged brief worried glances. "Um, sure," Jason said quickly to hide their discomfort.

Marla sure hoped Cathart was just the curious kind.

1848 Local/1548 Zulu

Camp Chesty Puller

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

They were grasping at straws; that's what they were doing. At least it felt that way to Gibbs.

He hated this. He had dedicated his life to finding and nailing scumbags…people who soiled the uniform and gave the Navy and Marine Corps a bad name. And he hated them even more when they slipped through his fingers.

He looked through the confession they had wrung out of former Special Agent in Charge Sedrick Phillips. Like PFC Secord's confession, it heaped all the blame on him and directed anything away from Colonel Livingston or Captain Lewis.

Sedrick said he was the one who'd come up with the plan to compromise the Bahrain JAGMAN team and sabotage their investigation. Secord, after all, was just a man who solved problems by killing people, so naturally he was readily agreeable to having someone else come up with a workable plan to keep him and the other members of the so-called 'death squad' in the clear.

Personally, Gibbs thought the story stunk. But at this point he really didn't have anything else to go on. What really bothered him was having that JAG Light Colonel out there with Livingston's henchmen playing good girl gone bad. Maybe it was because he'd found a kindred spirit in that Marine, maybe it was because his gut told him that Darcy Livingston was dirty. And his gut was seldom wrong.

He hadn't even noticed Commander Turner leaving. Thinking back, though, he did remember the JAG Officer saying something to the effect of 'This is getting us nowhere' and mentioning something about grabbing a bite to eat.

The Senior NCIS Agent had merely 'uh huhed' his agreement. His mind was totally focused on this case and his frustration with it.

Tony DiNozzo, still burping garlic from the spicy dinner served at the temporary Officer's Mess, had no idea of the maelstrom he was about to step into when he walked into the room. "Hey Boss, you missed dinn-" he began amiably enough.

Gibbs' stony stare stopped him dead.

"Where have you been, DiNozzo?" It came out sounding more like an accusation than an actual question.

"Uh dinner, Boss, you know, evening mess? They had this chicken parmigiana with penne pasta that was really pretty-"

Gibbs' hardening stare stopped him dead.

"You probably don't care about that, right." Tony mumbled as he quickly pulled out his PDA, "Okay, Commander Coleman and I interrogated Corporal Devin Richards for most of the afternoon…."

"And?"

"And, he insists that he…"

"…only dealt with PFC Secord and Sedrick Phillips, am I close, DiNozzo?"

Tony chastened, looked down at his PDA and then back at the Senior NCIS Agent, "Uh, yeah, Boss…"

It was probably his use of 'Boss' as a term of respect that saved Tony from his usual head slap for not paying attention. Still, his number two man was not following. He'd have to spell it out for him.

Gibbs sighed, "Tony, do you see a pattern here?"

Tony felt as if he was skating on late winter ice. "They're covering for each other?" His voice was hesitant, expecting a verbal rebuke, or even worse, the famous Gibbs 'slap to the back of the head' to get him to focus.

In what Tony thought was an unusual move, Gibbs did neither. Instead, the Senior Special Agent nodded. "Exactly, Tony, there isn't a single word that comes out of their mouths that doesn't tie all three of them neatly together, don't you find that a bit odd?"

1630 Zulu/1030 Local

NCIS Headquarters

After Abby's incredible finding, she began moving from machine to machine in her lab, trying to coax more from what she had.

After twenty minutes of chasing dead ends, they agreed this might be the best they could do. Seeing how none of them had had breakfast yet, or even dinner the night before for that matter, an agreement was made to split up and get something to eat and then meet back here at 10:00 a.m.

When they met again in the lab, Jack was the third person to arrive. Abby and Tim were standing side by side, tapping away at the dual keyboards. On their screens flashed images and web pages in rapid fire fashion. Tim was munching on what was left of his breakfast biscuit. Abby had her Jumbo sized Caf-Pow, its straw perched between her ruby red lips.

"Okay, that's just not right…" Abby mumbled as she turned her head to match the orientation of the document. Tim McGee continued tapping on his keyboard.

"Try this Abby," Tim said as he clicked his mouse.

The document righted itself and enlarged so that the tiny print could be easily seen. "Yeah, that's much better…"

"What are we looking at?" Jack asked no longer able to contain his curiosity.

"A 'lost' after action report; the file had been saved under another name, instead of the one it was supposed to be saved under."

Jack scanned the document. "From Afghanistan?"

Abby nodded. "Yep."

"So what does this have to do with Captain Lewis or Colonel Livingston?"

"Commander Rabb made a reference to this in his report, but he couldn't find it either. He didn't have time to really investigate further, before he was recalled to the Patrick Henry for duty."

Tim picked it up from there, "So we took the name and began trying variations and misspellings, plus we found a reference to it when we were. We, ummm, 'scanned' Colonel Livingston's laptop…"

Before he could say anything about that Abby leaped in again. "And volia' the missing file that was mentioned in the report." Abby said smiling broadly.

Major McBurney was totally turned around. "Which report?"

Abby bundled up the small stack of papers, photos, and the paperbound report and acted as if she was handing him a bag of tarantulas. "This. Here. It's from Commander Rabb." Whispering as he fingered the material. "He got it from the DSD…."

"DSD?" Jack hadn't heard that acronym before.

Tim was about to answer when Doctor Mallard and Commander Coulter made their way back into Abby's lab.

"Uh yeah, hi, Doctor Mallard, Commander Coulter…" He turned back to the Major. "DSD…ah, it stands for Defense Services Directorate…."

Ducky nodded sagely. "Ah yes, I've heard of them and their nasty exploits…"

Teresa further elaborated for the young JAG officer. "They're an agency within the Justice Department used to be called the Defense Security Division. They gave the Commander and Colonel MacKenzie a rough time during the late 90's. One of their operatives, Special Agent Clark Palmer, went rogue and tried to kill Commander Rabb several times…."

Jack looked at the cover of the paperbound report. "But this isn't from the DSD…"

Tim nodded his understanding of the Major's confusion. "Sorry, that's a courtesy copy of a threat assessment report from the CIA."

Jack McBurney rearranged the materials Abby had given him so he could thumb through the report. "CIA, DSD? Boy, the Commander and the Colonel sure do dabble a lot in Black Ops…."

Teresa nodded in agreement. "True but that's part of their reason for being Admiral Chegwidden's troubleshooters at JAG Corps Headquarters… they handle the sensitive cases for the SecNav."

The Marine Major picked up on where Teresa was going with this. "…because Admiral Chegwidden's a former SEAL…." He stopped looking at the report and switched back to the photos.

"And that probably has a lot to do with it, too." She nodded in agreement.

As the JAG NCIS liaison flipped back and forth through the various photos, Ducky leaned in for a closer examination. "Uh, Major, do you mind if I take a look at those photographs?"

Jack gave the NCIS Forensic Examiner a friendly smile. "Not at all Doctor, be my guest…."

He separated the pictures from the rest of the materials and handed them to him.

Slowly and methodically, Ducky began flipping through the photographs. "Well now, what do we have here?"

Teresa, who was closest, moved in to inspect what the fellow Medical Examiner had found.

"What is it Ducky?"

Ducky stopped his perusal and focused on one image in particular. "An intriguing puzzle; at first glance…um, Abigail, do you mind…?" The bespectacled Doctor raised up his hands, holding the photographs aloft for Abby to see what he wanted.

The Goth Forensic Technician gave him a big smile. "Heck no Ducky, what do you want to do?"

Ducky nodded and held up an index finger. "A little experiment, Abby."

Doctor Mallard could tell that Major McBurney was just as curious as the rest of them.

"You see Major, since forensics isn't giving us what we need; I thought perhaps we might try a different direction…. Since I began working with Jethro, uh, Special Agent Gibbs, I've been 'dabbling' myself, you might say, with criminal psychology; it's turned into a hobby of mine."

Teresa looked around. There really wasn't anywhere in the lab where they could lay out all the photographs.

"Why don't we move downstairs to the morgue where we can lay these out?" She suggested.

Abby and Tim locked their computers and then they all began walking toward the elevator.

Ducky chuckled as he pushed the button for the elevator. "You know, this reminds me of a case I dealt with once when I was on loan to Scotland Yard…."

When the elevator doors opened, Ducky still talking. "…so you see, I fancy myself to be somewhat of an amateur criminal psychologist, and these photos might help give us a more complete picture, if you will, of our good Captain Lewis."

Ducky looked around for his forensic technician. "Ah, Gerald must be on break. Good of him to tidy up before he left, it gives us plenty of room to work…." Ducky said cryptically referring to the plethora of bodies that had previously been spread out in this room.

As the others gathered around him, Ducky very methodically began laying out the photographs on an autopsy table. Tim and Jack watched, fascinated.

Ducky turned to them. "It's actually a very intriguing hobby…"

"You know Ducky, you could get a degree in criminal psychology. It could be most useful in cases like this."

Donald Mallard smiled at Teresa's encouraging suggestion. "I have to admit, I've given it some thought. But I'm rather busy, right now, perhaps in the future…Abigail, could you hand me Captain Lewis' personnel file?"

"Here you go, Ducky."

The NCIS Medical Examiner opened the file folder and began rearranging the photos. "All right then, now… let's see what we have here…."

Tony was glad that for once he wasn't on the receiving end of Gibbs' slap. He was so glad in fact, that he almost didn't hear his cell phone. He quickly fished it out of his pocket.

" Uh, yeah, DiNozzo…."

"Deenutzo, what are you and Special Agent Gibbs doing in Iraq?"

Tony grimaced. "Tracking down leads on the terrorists who assaulted JAG Corps Headquarters, Special Agent Fornell, I'm sure Gibbs would love to give you all the details."

"Cut the crap DuhNutso, I know why you're there; tell your boss I have some information for him if he's interested."

Tony cupped his cell phone. "Boss, it's Special Agent Fornell, he says he's got some information for you about our case." Gibbs motioned for him to hand over the phone.

"Yeah, Gibbs."

"Jethro, you sound like you're in the next room, not half a world away."

"That's nice Tobias; now, what do you have for me?"

"Easy Jethro, I went to a lot of trouble to get this for you."

"And I appreciate it, Tobias."

"You didn't let me finish. The trouble comes from looking into the backgrounds of one Captain Jacques Lewis and one Lieutenant Colonel Darcy D'Acerville Livingston."

"Captain Lewis is a former DSD operative and Colonel Livingston has a missing husband. Is that what you wanted to tell me?"

"Yeah – wait! How the hell did you know that?"

"I make it my business to know, Tobias. Have you found out anything about the fate of her husband?"

"As a matter a fact we have. A car registered to him was pulled from Black Bottom Bayou. No body, but we did find evidence of foul play. We're checking the grounds of their residence now for a possible burial site."

"Anything else on Captain Lewis?"

"Other than the info you have that he was with DSD for a while? No, he's like a ghost. No parking tickets-"

"No criminal record, no outstanding warrants. I get it, Tobias, squeaky clean."

"That's just it, Jethro, no one is that squeaky clean."

"A sanitized record?"

"Exactly. Too sanitized; someone went overboard."

"Thanks Tobias, I really do appreciate it."

The FBI Special Agent let out a sarcastic snort. "You should, Jethro. I'll let you know as soon as we turn up Beauregard Livingston's body."

"By the way, why didn't you call me on my phone?"

"I figured the battery would be dead, or you wouldn't have it turned on. I know what a Luddite you are when it comes to technology."

The senior NCIS Special Agent knew that dig was designed to rile him. He merely smiled and lightly chuckled. "Always a pleasure talking with you, Tobias."

Special Agent Fornell's sarcastic response was just as polite. "Likewise Jethro."

Back in the NCIS Morgue, Ducky was poring over his mosaic of photographs that he had arranged on one of the empty autopsy tables.

"Do you see this, Major?"

He knew the NCIS Medical Examiner wanted an answer, but he wasn't sure what that answer was. The major shrugged. "I'm afraid I'm out of my league, Doctor."

Ducky nodded his head absently and turned to Commander Coulter. "All right then, what do you see, Teresa?"

Commander Coulter scanned the photograph for a moment, but didn't see anything unusual either. "I see a happy family portrait…" She sighed as she gave up.

But Doctor Mallard wasn't going to let her get off that easy. "Really? Look closer,"

Then she saw it, it was like those crazy puzzles in the paper where you have find the subtle differences. She found one. "Wait, the look on his face-" Or had she?

Donald Mallard smiled benignly nodding his head. "Exactly, my dear, put this together with the anomalies in the other pictures and you can arrive at the fact that this is a staged setting."

Tim, intrigued by the ME's discovery, looked more closely at the photo – it looked like a normal family portrait to him. "You mean that this isn't his family…"

Ducky held up his index finger as he made his point. "…judging from their distance from him and his displeasure with whatever happened just before this picture was taken, plus the information Commander Rabb supplied…"

Besides Teresa, Abby was the only one who got it. "And presto you have one botched 'family' photo."

Teresa was impressed. The more she hung around Doctor Mallard, the more impressed she became. "That is amazing Ducky, you're really good at this…."

"Yes," Doctor said a vague tone as he examined another one of the photos up close. "The only thing that's missing from this farce is the dutiful family dog…."

1840 Local/1640 Zulu

Somewhere North of Mirbullah

Mac's eyes flicked left and right, looking for signs of trouble. The landscape was mixed barley and rice fields interspersed with date palms, followed by barren stretches criss-crossed with dry irrigation ditches. The light Colonel wondered just what this battalion defensive position was supposed to look like. She couldn't imagine it being anywhere around here.

She looked again at the written orders for her unit. Darcy made a vague mention in her notes to an abandoned battalion defensive position north of Mirbullah as 'possibly being used by insurgents as a base of operations'. Before they'd left JAG for this assignment, Mac had done a quick scan of after combat reports and had gleaned the basics about these triangular defensive positions used by the Iraqi Army.

A hold over from their war with Iran in the 1980s, Saddam's forces continued to use them right up to the beginning of Operation Iraqi Freedom. Like most WW I era defensive positions, they were easily isolated and knocked out by the rapidly moving Coalition forces. Except for a few instances where they were found to contain caches of weapons, Coalition troops found little if anything useful in these makeshift fortifications.

But for some reason Darcy thought this particular fortification might be a haven for the insurgents. She had showed Mac some photos she said were taken by a TARP mission that showed there was some unusual activity around the defensive position which was nestled among some hills.

The land was growing rockier and more barren with each passing mile; in the fading light she could see hills in the distance. Mac wondered whether Colonel Livingston sending them into a trap….

It was hard to concentrate on her concerns as the truck continued to buck and jolt along the uneven road surface. There was nothing that Corporal Burges could do to make the ride smoother, such was the state of this particular road. After a few more minutes the ride became less jolting. That was bad. Mac had been fighting her nightmares and insomnia for so long she didn't realize that the jolting motion had been one of the few things keeping her alert. Now with a less jolting ride, her thoughts began to drift….

Iraqi battalion defensive position…must keep alert for possible ambushes…why send us out here…who are Darcy's insurgent allies…is Kayce a spy for Darcy…Could Burges be in on this too…they seemed genuinely upset when Ebbits was killed…but then so did Jacques Lewis when Dodge was killed…Jacques Lewis…Jac….

As her mind drifted, it replayed the phone call she had made to Mr. Green at the Defense Services Directorate….

"Colonel, we've come a long way since the days of using people like Clark Palmer-"

"Like when you used him against Colonel Vickers when he oversaw the foreign military sales to Algeria of 105mm shells and equipment needed to create Sarin nerve gas?"

She remembered Green snorting dismissively "That was a lifetime ago, Colonel; under another agency aegis. We don't engage in that kind of activity anymore-"

"What about Captain Lewis, Mr. Green," Mac had replied pointedly "Is he a leftover from that period?"

"Captain Lewis is the CIA's concern, not ours, Colonel; we cut him loose just after Osama bin Laden escaped from Tora Bora."

"What do you mean?" Mac had been momentarily taken aback by this latest revelation. Up to now, she had thought Lewis was still working for DSD.

"Just what I said, Colonel. He hasn't been working for the DSD since January 2002. We kept tabs on him, but if he's involved with anything, it's definitely through the CIA."

Mac had felt her stomach crawl; could Webb have known that and not told her? (That's a dumb question) she had thought at the time, chiding herself, (of course he could…)

"Or he's free-lancing," Mac had said bravely, not wanting to believe that Clayton might have lied to her yet again.

The Marine Light Colonel had heard the grin in Green's voice. "That is a distinct possibility, Colonel, but I highly doubt it."

Mac's turmoil increased…Jac…Webb…CIA involvement…Harm…Harm flying Tomcats again…dangerous….

Burges swerved to avoid a rut, but only partially succeeded, the harsh bucking of the pickup almost brought the Light Colonel out of her fatigue-induced stupor. She lazily opened one eye and looked at the driver.

"Sorry, ma'am," Burges said apologetically, "Couldn't avoid it."

"S'all right…Corporal," Mac said softly as her thoughts returned to Harm…

…and their mission…find the SCUD missiles…chemical warheads…find the SCUDS…find the missiles…Harm in his Tomcat…..

She heard Harm's voice "I told you before Sundance, I think we can handle this one ourselves. I have an idea that just might work..."

Harm…? Then it was a bright sunny afternoon. She was out in the desert, in her Force Recon uniform, laying on a rock outcropping, scanning the horizon with a pair of binoculars

"We're too late, ma'am…" Mac felt the ground rumble underneath her and then watched as an ugly black missile hurtled into the hot afternoon air. In a moment it had raced across the sky overhead and then was gone.

Something made the Light Colonel look to her left. There was Mac propped up against a rock wall, a bullet hole in the middle of her forehead. She realized she must be seeing things through Kayce's eyes. Hearing the crackle of flames, she looked behind her and saw Corporal Burges [or rather what was left of him] sitting in the burning remains of his pickup truck. The bodies of the rest of the team lay sprawled all around her.

"Don't be afraid, Cher, it will all be over soon…."

Her blood froze as Darcy's whispered words reached her ear. Then she saw Captain Lewis on another rock outcropping across the way – he had his rifle pointed directly at her.

As she heard the rifle's report, she also heard the thunderous detonation as the SCUD missile found its target.

"No…" she murmured aloud. "…can't…let that happen…it can't end this way…" Then drifted back into her troubled sleep.

Then she was in the cockpit of an F-14 doing evasive maneuvers. She wasn't flying the plane, though.

"Missiles inbound Hammer!"

She heard Harm's confident voice through her helmet radio. "I see them, Supergirl…" Despite the wildness of everything that was going on, her heart leapt at the sound of his voice.

More evasive maneuvers as earth and sky exchanged places. Mac was getting dizzy, she struggled with unconsciousness.

"Supergirl cover my six!"

"In your back pocket Hammer!"

Another voice came over her headset. "Tally Ho, I've got a SCUD TEL ready to launch!"

Harm's voice came back on again. "Engaging now…weapons free!

Then she heard her own strangled voice screaming. "Eagle Flight this is Shark! Abort! Abort! Abort! Those SCUDs are armed with Hydrogen Cyanide!

Mac?

She heard the explosion as Harm's bombs found their target and Harm's anguished voice

"No, God. Nooooo!"

Mac shielded her eyes as a bright white cloud filled the sky. She heard the pilot say something unintelligible…and then nothing as darkness enveloped her.

"Ma'am? Ma'am? Ma'am!"

Mac opened her eyes to see Kayce Danvers looking at her with unveiled concern. Burges was stealing shocked glances at her as well. "Geez ma'am, you scared us; are you all right?"

Mac coughed to hide her embarrassment. "I'm fine Corporal, my apologies…" She couldn't tell them. How could she? No matter, she wasn't going to let either vision become reality. She was going to find and stop those missiles.

"No sweat ma'am," Burges replied quickly to her apology.

Kayce quickly followed his lead. "Yeah ma'am, we've all done it before, it's no big deal, right Don?"

Don Burges nodded his head in affirmation. "Absolutely; don't worry about it ma'am…" Or did he say it just to get the women off this obviously unnerving subject?

As Mac looked around to make sure she hadn't dropped anything during her fatigue induced nap, she didn't see Corporal Burges mouth to Kayce;

"Guilty conscience about something Darcy made her do."

Kayce couldn't believe that Mac was on Colonel Livingston's side, but quickly decided if she was, then they would have to resolve that issue before this mission could proceed.

Harm was lying in his bunk, trying his best to read through the legalese that Captain Seranovich had given him, but it was a losing battle, just as it had been many times when he was on the Patrick Henry off the Balkan coast. His fellow pilots including Skates, Boomer, and X-Man usually found 'Pappy' sound asleep, buried in the carrier wing's legal administrivia.

As he read the Wing's Rules of Engagement for a third time…his mind simply refused to make sense of the words….

Then the papers fell away…and he saw a trio of camouflaged pickup trucks headed into a wadi. From where he was standing, he could see miles and miles of wasteland…land desiccated and left barren by Saddam's orders to drain the wetlands in this area.

As Harm watched in horror, a group of Force Recon Marines began shooting into the wadi with rifles and heavy weapons. First the rear vehicle caught fire. Harm ran to the edge of the crevasse and began shouting…

"Mac! Get out of there Mac! It's a trap!"

He could see the Light Colonel manning the lead vehicle's machinegun. Harm's voice echoed off the steep, nearly vertical walls of the wash.

She waved when she heard him. Then the second pickup truck slowed and then burst into flame. That only left Mac's plucky little vehicle in that deathtrap.

"Mac! Look out behind you!"

The Marine Light Colonel looked up just in time to see one of Darcy's Marines hoist a SWAW assault weapon and aim for her truck. As the driver of her truck swung sharply to the right, Mac swung her machinegun in the opposite direction and caught the soldier with a long burst before he could trigger his weapon.

Mac again waved, and Harm thought she was seeing him and then Mac looked up. Zooming over the wadi was a pair of low flying F-14's.

The former Top Gun heard Mac's strangled report as she yelped into her radio.

"Shark to Eagle! Shark to Eagle! Enemy anti-air in area! Abort! Abort!"

Harm could see the missile flash as the F-14's began to climb. The first plane corkscrewed out of danger, but the second didn't. In less than a second, the missile slammed into the hapless Tomcat.

Above the terrifying explosion, Harm could hear Mac screaming.

"OH MY GOD!"

The shattered Navy fighter jet plummeted toward the ground. On the side of the plane under the pilot's cockpit position, the name 'Hammer' was rapidly being consumed by the flames billowing from the dying aircraft.

Suddenly Harm found himself inside the cart-wheeling aircraft. Nothing worked; the ground was quickly rising to meet him and his doomed plane.

Harm felt himself buck in his rack as the plane hit the ground. His eyes flew open just as another plane was launched on the deck several levels above his head. He was in his rack on board the Patrick Henry. Harm wiped sweat from his face, another indicator of the impact of his ordeal.

"It was so real…." His pilot's mind argued.

"It was just a dream…" His logical lawyer's mind argued back.

"But you haven't been having dreams lately, Hammer," his pilot's mind fought back, "These are visions…! Just like Mac's…."

"Next you're going to start carrying a lucky rabbit's foot," the lawyer's mind retorted snidely.

"Great," grumbled Harm as he swung himself out of his rack, "mental arguments in stereo…"

Still there was an undercurrent of unease that was creeping into his mind. Since this investigation began he and Mac had been having, if not visions, then prophetic dreams. At first they had seemed to foreshadow some future mission Harm or Mac was going to undertake. Then they centered on the attack on JAG Corps Headquarters. And now they focused once again on that future mission and Mac. Or was it a future mission? He was on the Patrick Henry now, there was a very real possibility that he could be involved in a ground attack mission that could lead to him getting killed. What should he do? What could he do?

1907 Local/1707 Zulu

Somewhere North of Mirbullah

Lance Corporal Arnold Bledsoe pulled down his face cover and his features were instantly engulfed in a cloud of billowing sand.

"Close your crumb catcher and keep that mask up, Bledsoe," growled Reynolds, "Or you're gonna be pukin' dirt for the next month…."

Despite being dusted by the talcum powder-like sand, Bledsoe reluctantly pulled his mask back into place. He wasn't reluctant because he wanted to swallow sand; it was more of an on-going personality conflict with Reynolds. He didn't like the guy and really didn't care to follow any of his orders. But, he also didn't want to do anymore push-ups like he'd had to do for Colonel MacKenzie, so he sucked it up. "Aye, aye, Staff Sergeant…."

Reynolds looked at Victor/Cesar and shook his head. It was the unspoken language of Sergeants meaning 'this guy needs to be cut loose'. In a normal unit this meant kicking him out of the platoon, but Victor Galindez wondered what did Reynolds mean? Did he want to kill Bledsoe?

Victor furtively eyed the Lance Corporal. He had heard the guy was a hard case and had thought he could bully the Colonel [since she really wasn't a Force Recon soldier] until she set him straight. Apparently Darcy wasn't too impressed with him either; otherwise Reynolds would probably be ignoring his antics.

Arnold Bledsoe sighed theatrically. Not loud enough for Reynolds to hear him but loud enough for his buddies to hear him.

"We are in the middle of bravo foxtrot nowhere!" he groused just loud enough for them to hear. "Just what the heck do they think is out here?"

Corporal Jim Stallings gave his buddy a wry smirk. "Beats me man; if you want to know what I think, I think the Colonel and Master Guns have been listening to the good idea fairy…"

Arnold Bledsoe chuckled and turned to his other buddy, Evan Mickens. "So, what do you think?"

Corporal Mickens just shrugged his shoulders. "I just do what the Staff Sergeant tells me to do…"

"'I just do what the Staff Sergeant tells me to do…' mimicked Stallings. "Geez, Evan, you sound like a little robot-"

Lance Corporal Crockett didn't like the way Stallings rode Mickens. He leaned in close. "Corporal, I'd rather be a robot than have Reynolds' boot up my six."

Jim Stallings eyes narrowed to anger filled slits. "Who asked you, Lance Criminal?"

Arnold wanted to avoid this situation getting out of hand or even back to the Master Guns or Staff Sergeant Reynolds "Get real, Davy; Reynolds isn't like that-"

Evan Mickens wasn't in the mood for Jim's or Arnold's antics; besides Reynolds had already warned Arnold once. The new Light Colonel had set the standard. Despite what Jim and Arnold might think, rules and chain of command would be followed.

"Says you, buddy…I don't want to rile the Staff Sergeant or the Master Guns."

"What? Are you scared of the Master Guns, Evan?"

Victor had been listening to this give and take between the enlisted men, wanting to see where it would lead. When it was obvious that this was just grousing between enlisted soldiers and nothing else, 'Cesar' decided to take his cue from Evan Mickens.

"Gentlemen, is there a problem?"

Victor/Cesar's question was met with hushed chorus of 'No, Master Guns'. He noticed that while the rest of the enlisted men avoided his penetrating gaze, Arnold Bledsoe seemed to be amused by it.

Victor decided to turn his bad persona on the instigator of this unrest.

"Bledsoe if I were you, I'd concentrate on making sure your mask is clean and doesn't have any nicks or cuts," Victor said as he folded his map and stuffed it back in his uniform shirt pocket. He fixed the stunned Lance Corporal with an almost evil smile. "Cause I don't want to have to haul your lifeless body out of my way in case we get attacked."

Bledsoe's cocky demeanor vanished. "Aye, aye, Master Guns."

Harm decided that sleep without more disturbing images just wasn't going to come. He resolved to clear his mind by heading up to Vulture's Row and have the aircraft taking off and landing blast his mind clean.

As Harm headed up the ladder stairwell to the next deck, he ran into the Commander of the Air Group, better known as the CAG, coming down the stairs.

"Evening CAG," Harm said hurriedly. The aviator/attorney was still smarting from the CAG ordering him not to fly combat air patrol over Camp Chesty Puller after the insurgent rocket attack.

"Commander," The CAG was not unaware of the effects of their previous meeting. Still, the Head of the Patrick Henry's Air Group knew that Harm wouldn't dispute why he had been grounded, even if he didn't like or agree with the reason. "Headed to Vulture's Row?"

Harm stopped his upward progress. "Yes sir."

"Can't sleep?"

The JAG Corps officer started to rebut that interrogative. "No sir, I -" Harm trailed off knowing that CAG probably knew he was worried about his JAGMAN team. "—uh, yes sir." The former Top Gun's eyes were cast downward to avoid the piercing look from the Air Group Commander.

"Look Rabb, you know why I had to keep you from flying CAP over Chesty Puller, don't you?" He really hoped the leader of VF-218 understood. Harm was not much younger than the CAG, but it was enough of a difference for there to be a gap between them.

Harm though, was experienced enough to know that sometimes unpopular and unpleasant decisions had to be made. It was part of being a senior officer. Harm was beginning to understand more and more why Admiral Chegwidden had ordered him not to go to Paraguay.

"Yes sir, I do understand."

The CAG gave him a quick mirthless smile. "Then I hope you'll understand why I'm about to upset the applecart even more."

"Sir?"

"With Lieutenant Ribkins down with this flu bug, I'm going to have to do some rearranging of your squadron."

Harm wasn't sure what the CAG was telling him. "Meaning sir?"

It was obvious that the CAG didn't like doing this anymore than Harm wanted to hear it. "Meaning Commander Hollands has to have a RIO, Commander. I'm giving her your RIO…."

Shuffling of pilots and Radar Intercept Officers had become commonplace in the last few days, so Harm had been expecting someone is his group to be moved around, but he hadn't figured on 'Pitcher' Rodriguez. Still, he tried to be a team player. "Yes, sir…."

"Your RIO will be one of the other recruits we picked up from Baghdad along with you and Lieutenant Rodriguez; Pete Gibbons. He's a pilot who was assigned as an ANGLICO to 1st Marine Air Wing and spent most of Iraqi Freedom riding a HMMWV rather than jockeying his usual mount."

Now Harm was a little worried. With this current situation and critical need for pilots and weapons officers, they might start to pull pilots from other aircraft, like the Hornet. Scuttlebutt among the pilots was that CENTCOM was scraping the bottom of the barrel in terms of Tomcat pilots. There weren't as many in the air as there used to be. With replacement parts for these fighter jets getting harder and harder to find, more and more squadrons were being stood down. That meant more chance that any new people might not be as familiar with the 'Cat.

"And his usual mount, CAG?"

The CAG understood Harm's worry. They weren't hitting bottom yet in terms of pilots, but they were getting close. "Tomcats, Commander. He's a good RIO. And you need a good RIO."

"Sir I-"

The CAG didn't have time to argue with a lawyer, let alone the strength for it. So, he decided to just lay his case out for the JAG Corps lawyer – a fait accompli "Let me finish, Commander. I'm not saying Pitcher isn't good, but you need someone who's just as good as Rodriguez. Since I can't clone him, you get Gibbons, understood?"

"Understood sir."

"Good. You two can fly a night patrol before you hit the rack and then a dawn patrol. That should give you time for you two to get to know each other."

"Yes sir."

Gill Basilone was dead tired. Flying back and forth to Baghdad as much as he and his crew had been doing lately was taking a toll - as was the continuing body count. They had just finished delivering Carlson Ebbits' body to graves registration in Baghdad. He and Carlson had been good friends. He knew the Lieutenant didn't like or trust Colonel Livingston and Gill thought that this Black Widow, as Carlson had called her, might have had something to do with his death.

If that was the case, Gill decided he was going to find out for certain and stop her, even if it killed him.

Lieutenant Basilone stole quietly up to the building with the sign MARINE EXPEDITIONARY UNIT – SPECIAL OPERATIONS COMMAND: DETACHMENT TWO tacked on the outside wall. Standing there and listening through an open window, especially one where they could see that he was obviously listening to them was a dumb idea. But there was an open side window as well, one where he didn't think they would really be able to see him as he crouched by it and listened.

His blood chilled as he listened to the conversation between Jacques Lewis, Commander of Company A of the Marine Infantry Battalion, and Darcy Livingston, Commanding Officer of the 2nd Marine Division Force Recon Battalion. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Gill wished he had a notepad or even a pencil. He never would have suspected these two of treason…and multiple murders.

What Gill heard next shocked him the most.

"You know lady, Samir's men failed to find and silence that little tramp Dodge married. Sure they wrecked JAG Headquarters and killed a bunch of Marines and Sailors, but that really doesn't do us any good. I could have taken in a sniper team and eliminated her and that stogy Admiral and his band of merry men a lot more efficiently than the blunt way they handled it."

"Ah, but you were here with me, Cher, and you couldn't exactly get away unnoticed, now could you?"

"I'm just saying Dodge's wife is a liability as long as she is alive. She knows too much – just like ole Dodgie did."

What Gill Basilone heard sickened him and now he understood that Lieutenant Dodge had just been one of several unfortunate people to have stumbled onto Jac and Darcy's plans. No wonder JAG and NCIS were hanging around here! It all made sense now. Colonel Briggs' behavior…the botched attack on Mirbullah…the death of Dodge…and the JAGMAN investigation implosion – it all fit together like a neat little intricate puzzle. Did they really think that by attacking JAG Headquarters that they could disrupt a courts martial? Then he heard them discussing more recent events.

"So Cesar is back?"

"Yes, he took that meddlesome Gunnery Sergeant Galindez's identity."

"The guy who gave us so much trouble in Afghanistan?"

"The very same, Cher. Anyway, he's keeping an eye on Colonel MacKenzie for us. Rudy didn't like it. Probably liked it about as much as Devin did being caught by Gibbs…."

"That was Devin's own damn fault. The moron was skulking around like a stereotypical secret agent. Stuck out like a sore thumb. I'm surprised they didn't catch him sooner. Don't worry though, Richards is smart…he won't talk. He knows what the payoff is if he keeps his trap shut and he knows the guards will have an 'accident' with him if does blab…."

The more that Gill heard, the more he realized what danger he was in if they ever found out what he was doing. He was trapped. He prayed that Darcy and Jac would end their conversation soon, that he would be able to get away unscathed. But things he learned as they continued to talk only seemed to get worse and worse.

"I tell you Jacques, these Iraqi lunatic fringe they are like a..a pit bull; you get them riled up and tell them someone has defiled their group and let them do the attacking. It leaves our hands free for other…business."

"You said it lady, all we have to do is sit back and wait for the bullets to stop flying…we come up smelling like roses. So what about that lady JAG- you know, the Light Colonel-is she really on your side now?"

"I don't know whether she is or not, hon. What I do know is that whatever she is doing, plays perfectly into our next move…."

"And that is?"

"Putting the fear of Allah into this unit!"

"I hate when you get all Muslim radical on me, Darcy. It gives me the creeps, you know?"

"Do not worry, cher. You have been made an instrument and you are someone I can completely trust."

"Oh yeah? An *instrument* and someone you can trust?"

"Yes, Cher. In less than twelve hours, Samir has told me that his missiles will be ready for launching against this unit, Mirbullah and al Nasiriya. While Samir, his Mujahedeen and Saddam's Fedayeen are cleaning up the remnants of the 36th, you and I and our select team will cross over and join Samir in the confusion. Officially we will be among the casualties, but in reality we will have joined our Arab brethren and will work to make Iraq and all of Arabia into a theocracy!"

"Listen lady, that theocracy bull may get you all excited, but the only thing I'm looking for is a way to disappear. The DSD has labeled me a rogue agent, which puts a big fat price on my head. As long as Samir, Saddam and bin Laden can cough up the dough and/or the equivalent in opportunities so that I can ply my trade, I'll do whatever you…and they need me to do."

"That's all I ask, cher, that you keep doing what you do best."

Gill's legs were cramping from standing in this position for so long, but he dared not move or even breathe heavy for fear they would discover him. He fought to not succumb to the sharp pains from his knotted calf muscles. Then when it seemed he could stand the pain no longer….

"Well, I gotta head back to my Company and make sure that moron Hawkins is up to temporarily taking charge while I play spy with you. Between him and that dope, Kelly, they should end up getting most of the battalion killed. When did Briggs say this show is supposed to start?"

"0600 local, Cher."

"And what time is Samir's missile strike planned for?"

"0620; just a long enough delay for Colonel Briggs to get everyone out there to the site. Then the rockets will be fired and 36th MEU will just be another memorial marker in Washington."

"Heck lady, with all we've been doing, they'll probably have a special War on Terror monument made with regards to what we've done."

"We'll both go down in history, cher, once this is over, as two real heroes."

"Well, enough waxing poetic. Gotta get Hawkins ready for his big assignment. By your leave, Colonel."

"Captain."

It was obvious that the meeting was over. Gill breathed a silent prayer of thanks as Captain Lewis opened the door to Darcy's quarters and after he closed it, hustled toward the infantry battalion headquarters area.

Considering everything he had learned, Gill didn't know who he could trust. It seemed that Darcy's cancer had infected almost every unit in the MEU, including, it seemed, Colonel Briggs. Gill had to find a way to talk to those JAGs and the NCIS Agents. They were the only ones he could trust.

Don Burges kept his low beams on as the twilight began to fade to inky black. Mac knew they had passed six, maybe seven farms and now they were entering some low hills.

In the fading light it dawned on Mac that the Iraqi battalion defensive position could easily pass for one of these low 'hills' and that they could stumble right into it. Or right into an ambush.

The Light Colonel quickly got on her radio and told Gunny Dallas to pull off the rutted trail.

Sergeant Williams pulled off followed by Burges. Eddie Willet pulled to a stop on the trail.

Victor hopped out of the bed of Willet's truck and hustled over to where Mac and Kayce were standing.

"What gives, Colonel?" He asked casually.

"With all these hills around us, this would be the perfect area for the enemy battalion defensive position, Master Guns, don't you think?"

Victor looked around at surrounding hills "Um, yeah…" He said abstractedly. It was a perfect act…followed up by Mac's faultless 'angry officer' look.

Master Guns Victor/Cesar masterfully picked up on the cue. "Uh, I mean, yes ma'am."

Mac heaved a disgusted sigh. "Take Szymas, Mickens, and Danvers and scout up ahead."

The Master Guns decided it was better to follow orders at this point rather than playing out this charade any further. "Aye, aye Colonel."

He motioned to the three mentioned by Mac. They quietly followed the Master Gunnery Sergeant away from the assembled group.

The unit's staff sergeants didn't need any urging. They soon had the rest of the group arrayed in a 360 degree defense. Mac couldn't help but feel a small bit of pride at her unit's quick response.

Apparently nothing they were doing right now was interfering with Darcy's plans, so there wasn't any reason for them to show their hand at this point. Mac had to be careful; this unit could turn on her at any moment. She had to keep reminding herself that these Marines, no matter how friendly they might be at the moment, were actually traitors and most likely cold-blooded killers.

Whether that included Kayce and the other new recruits, only time would tell. Until then, she had to be on her guard with everyone…with the exception of Sergeant Szymas and, of course, Gunny.

"Uh, Colonel?"

It was one of the more seasoned Marines – Calapango. Lucas Calapango was not your ordinary stereotypical native of Tonga. He could best be described as a tall drink of water; tall and lean.

"Yes Corporal?"

"Staff Sergeant Dallas sent me over here to act as your aide until Corporal Danvers gets back from her recon mission with the Master Guns. Um, is there anything that you need?"

Mac shook her head as she scanned with her night vision enhanced binoculars the area where Gunny and others were. "No thank you, Corporal, not right now."

"Yes ma'am."

With her peripheral vision, the Light Colonel could see the tall Corporal join her in her silent vigil.

"Colonel?"

"Yes Corporal?"

"You liked Lieutenant Carlson, didn't you?"

Mac was caught off guard by the forthrightness of the question. Either he was probing her or he honestly wanted to see if she felt some warmth toward the former leader of this unit. Calapango had watched the way she had held Carlson Ebbits when he was dying.

"Yes Corporal, I did…" Mac's voice faltered.

Lucas Calapango's voice faltered as well. Was it an act? "We did too, ma'am, we call him…I mean, we called him Butterbar…"

The Light Colonel turned and gave the Corporal a quizzical look. "Butterbar?"

The Corporal gave her a sad sheepish smile. It made his face appear almost boyish. "Yes ma'am. You see, it took him so long to get his first Lieutenant bar, we just started calling him that, and the name stuck. Truthfully ma'am, I think he liked being 2nd Looie, better…."

Mac felt herself slipping, letting her guard down as she gave the Corporal an empathetic smile. "And why is that Corporal?"

His blunt answer shocked her. "Because the further up you go in this unit, ma'am, the more you realize it's suffering from dry rot."

"Dry rot?" Mac asked casually, trying not to let her real reaction his revelation be revealed. She wondered whether or not the Corporal shared Sergeant Szymas' sentiments that Darcy Livingston had to be stopped.

Mac could see a steel determination in the young Tongan's eyes. "Yes ma'am…"

Mac walked out onto a limb with her next question.

"You think he didn't like Colonel Livingston?"

His answer would have been comforting if she was sure of his allegiance. "Not to speak ill of the dead in terms of disrespecting senior officers, Colonel, but Butterbar not only didn't like her, he didn't trust her either…he thought she was evil incarnate."

"Colonel!" The hissing insistent voice was that of Staff Sergeant Corbin.

Mac turned toward the shadowy figure. "What is it Staff Sergeant?"

"The Master Guns just returned, ma'am. He reports that the road ahead is mined and the bridge over the next wash has been booby trapped…."

"Then we must be close…." Mac said thinking aloud. They had stopped just in time. If they had gone any further they would have been blown to kingdom come.

Corbin moved closer to the two Marines. "Calapango, report to Staff Sergeant Dallas, I'll stay with the Colonel."

The Corporal gave recon Staff Sergeant a look of disbelief. Was he going to kill her right here, right now? His response to his 'request' stumbled out his mouth.

"A-Aye sir."

As the Master Guns and his scouts reported to the Light Colonel, Lucas Calapango made his way to where Staff Sergeant Dallas stood waiting.

"Staff Sergeant Dallas?"

"Yeah Calapango?"

Dallas could see the pleading look in the Corporal's face and hear it in his voice. "Do we have to do this?"

The last thing he and Corbin needed right now was one of the younger Marines being bewitched by this Light Colonel and her silver tongue. "You going soft in the head, Corporal, having second thoughts?" He snapped harshly. "Do I have to remind you she got Butterbar killed?"

"N-No Staff Sergeant," Corporal Calapango said stiffly, stinging from this rebuke. Dallas had been like a father to him up till now. "Sorry Staff Sergeant. It's just…well, she just doesn't seem like someone who's on Colonel Livingston's side…she didn't kill Butterbar."

Dallas gave him a paternal pat on his shoulder. "She kills by proxy, son, that's how she got where she is. Corporal, if we're going to get out of this mission alive, we have to stop Colonel Livingston and we have to neutralize that legal eagle. She and the Master Guns are wolves in sheep's clothing…don't forget that, son."

"Aye, aye Staff Sergeant…." Corporal Calapango was back on track.

"Good man; now hustle over there to Sergeant Reynolds and tell him we're getting ready to move out in a few minutes….

Calapango nodded and then trotted over to where Staff Sergeant Reynolds and the others were positioned by Sergeant Williams pickup truck.

Mark Dallas shook his head. This Silver Leaf legal eagle was more dangerous than they had first thought. If she could turn Calapango's head that easily, they'd have to kill her sooner than they had planned. He wouldn't let her and Colonel Livingston get away with whatever they had in mind. And if this Light Colonel began turning heads in the unit now, their plan would be doomed.

Joe Corbin, Mark's long- time friend and partner in this distasteful, but necessary, task walked up and stood beside him. They looked out toward their supposed objective.

"Problem?" Joe said as he fished in his pocket for a cigarette and then lit it, never once looking at Mark.

Mark did the same. The junior enlisted in this unit had gotten used to seeing these two standing like this, smoking cigarettes. No one suspected them of using these 'meetings' for anything other than an exchange of ideas or friendly banter. They each took a drag on their cigarettes.

"No… the kid just thinks this legal weenie has a heart." That comment elicited an eye roll and a disgusted shake of the head from Staff Sergeant Corbin. "…she told him some cock and bull about how she liked Butterbar…"

Joe gave his buddy a bitter laugh. "Boy, she is good. Do you think he'll be trouble?"

"Calapango's like us." Mark reassured his doubting friend. "He wants to stop Colonel Livingston as bad as we do,"

Joe dropped his half-finished cigarette and mercilessly crushed it with his boot against a rock. "Then we're going to have to make our move soon. We're running out of time…"

Victor meanwhile laid out for Mac what he and the scouts had seen. Mac, Sergeant Szymas and Kayce, arrayed in a semi-circle around the Master Guns looked down at the map on the hood of Willet's truck.

"The trail is lousy with mines. Mostly anti-personnel, Colonel, but a few anti-tank mines sprinkled in for good measure. And a couple of IEDs just to keep us guessing if we make it through the mines."

"And there's soft sand on the right that leads down to the wadi, ma'am." Casmir Szymas added. That ruled out trying to bypass the obstacle by going around it on that side.

Mac didn't waste any time discussing the possibility of making it through the minefield. There was no way they could bull or finesse their way through that in time for them to reach the IRP on time. "What about the left hand side?"

"We couldn't get over there to check, Colonel," Kayce admitted.

That was the last thing the Light Colonel wanted to hear. They had to reach their initial rally point before 2200, according to Darcy's time schedule.

Mac sighed wearily. "Master Guns, any ideas?"

Victor decided right now was not the time for a 'Cesar' response. "Sorry Colonel."

"Um, Colonel?"

Everyone turned to see the unit Corpsman – everyone referred to him as 'Doc Yader'. Up to this point, Mac really hadn't talked to him, other than formal introductions.

Victor gave him a scowl. "What's up Yader, someone sick?"

The Corpsman gave Victor/Cesar a quick cutting look. "No, Master Guns, uh, Colonel, I know a way around the minefield."

"Doc?" Mac noticed that Casmir Szymas was obviously surprised by this news.

"I was part of a SEAL team that did recon in this area shortly before the beginning of Operation Iraqi Freedom," Yader explained, "I'll guide Sergeant Williams and the rest of you can follow, ma'am."

"Colonel…." Mac noted that this was Victor, warning her that Doc Yader wasn't what he appeared to be. But the Light Colonel had precious few other options.

"Okay, Doc; we'll do it your way."

Sturgis Turner had gone to bed early. Rumors had flown through the camp all day about a retaliatory strike against the terrorists. The Marines were champing at the bit, ready to deal out some hurt of their own. Deep down, Sturgis was worried they were being baited.

Unfortunately, their prisoners - former Regional Investigative Coordinator Phillips, PFC Secord, and Corporal Richards – had given up little if anything useful about the insurgents. They acted as if the current mayhem had nothing to do with the insurgents under their control. He knew Special Agent Gibbs didn't believe that. And he didn't either. But they also didn't have any solid leads about the insurgents' next move. It was as if the insurgents were one step ahead in this whole thing.

They knew that Colonel Livingston and Captain Lewis were involved somehow, they just couldn't pin her or Lewis down.

Mac was working on the inside of Darcy's unit, but time was running out. The Chaplain's son figured that the rocket attack on the DFAC was a probe to see how strong the Marine defenses were. Were they ready to launch their missiles now?

Lack of any solid evidence left him and everyone in the team frustrated. Chaplain Turner's son decided to call it a night and turn in. But even in the supposed solace of slumber, he couldn't escape his anxiety and it took a form he wished it hadn't….

It seemed innocuous enough at first. A simple game of one-on-one basketball with his old academy mate, Harm, at Stonewall Jackson Park. Only he was missing every shot. Even the easy ones.

Harm was his usual easy going self, telling Sturgis to just relax, be himself.

The open-air court was soon replaced by cool smooth steel walls. Sturgis was looking down at his report, he felt sweat roll off him and hit with a wet splat on his clipboard.

Suddenly a klaxon began blaring. A voice boomed over the ship's intercom:

"Lieutenant Turner report to the Captain's quarters!"

It was Lieutenant Flagler's voice. As in all dreams, Sturgis knew the future for Flagler held Captaincy of USS Watertown.

Sturgis Turner found himself standing in the Captain's quarters, sweating profusely. Oddly enough, as you do in dreams, he wished he would have taken a shower after the basketball game before coming down here.

Before he could put together another thought, the Captain of the USS Watertown got right in his face.

"You're done Turner!" He snarled "You hear me? Finished!"

Sturgis wanted to explain, wanted to say something, but there really wasn't anything to say. No apology would be sufficient, and he wasn't the type to make excuses or blame someone else. It was his responsibility and his alone. Any congratulations for success or blames for failure rested solely with him.

For what?

For his mistake. For his failure. For what was going make him a land-locked Dolphin.

"Captain, I take full responsibil-"

"You're damned right you do!" He hissed, "I want you off my boat as soon as we dock!"

"Do you read me, Mister?"

"Do you read me, Mister?"

"Do you?"

"Well, do you?"

Sturgis Turner woke up with a start. His sheets were a tangled mess. He sat up in bed and looked around. It was still dark outside. He laid back down, trying to push those thoughts of failure from his mind.

He had never told Harm, Diane, Luke, Keeter or Mac, or anyone for that matter, what had happened on the Watertown.

The Admiral knew, but he didn't hold it against him. Sturgis had been an exemplary officer since that time. And a superb JAG Corps attorney. But because one careless mistake had cost him his submarine career, he now made it a point to be a 'detail person'. No minutia was too minor to overlook. It sometimes drove his clients and his opponents crazy, but he would never again let something small and insignificant cause such a radical change to his life.

His Dad had told him once after the incident, 'Son, everything happens for a reason. When one door closes, another one opens…'

Sturgis made sure he grabbed onto that door as soon as it opened. But in last few months, he had been reminded of those small things that can destroy your career.

Dealing with Bud Robert's problems and seeing what happened to his old Academy buddy, almost on a daily basis, served to remind him just how little it would take to destroy his career as a JAG Corps officer.

That's what drove him to ride Bud. That's why he constantly clashed with Mac and Harm over matters that they often dismissed as forgivable offenses. Sturgis never again wanted to be placed in those crosshairs because of an oversight of any sort.

But he couldn't tell anyone. That's why he was so strict, so methodical, so unbending. They would never understand. How could they? Sure, they were what some would call 'loose cannons,' but they had never done anything like he had done….

No, Sturgis Turner had to face this demon alone. And he was determined not to lose.

Doc Yader had been right. While it didn't take as long as it would have to negotiate that minefield, they still lost time as they worked their way down into the left side of the wash and then back out on the other side and on the trail again. The ground on this side of the wadi was more solid, so Mac decided the best course of action was to head in as straight a line as possible toward the initial rally point.

Their little convoy was as before, with Sergeant Williams leading and Corporal Willet serving as rear guard. Mac turned around and looked through the back window into the bed of the truck. Though it was now dark, she could clearly see the Marines sitting back there. Along with Sergeant Bradenton and Corporal Calapango and their unit's forward observer 2nd Lieutenant Oscar Flemming, they were joined by Sergeant Szymas [who had switched with Doc Yader so he could ride in Williams' truck], and Corporal Logan.

Mac didn't know much about 'Ronnie' Logan, only that she had been with one of Darcy's other platoons and was transferred to Mac's unit to replace one of the recon soldiers who was showing signs of coming down with the flu.

When the JAG Corps officer had asked about Corporal Logan, Kayce told her Darcy had more than one den mother who took out new recruits. Those recruits who passed the test were assigned to different units. The Corporal added that they had just 'got lucky and got all the new ones'.

The Light Colonel had noticed that with the addition of Logan, that now more of her unit was made up of newbies than either of Darcy's other platoons. That worried her. Was there a reason, other than happenstance for this? Mac didn't like thinking about that. Whatever Darcy was up to, it might require that Mac's platoon to be composed of mostly green recruits.

She turned back to Kayce who seemed to be alone with her thoughts.

"Thinking about home, Corporal?" Mac asked in a friendly tone.

"Wha? Uh, no ma'am." Kayce had apparently been deep in thought. "I was thinking about my old ROTC commander at Sacramento College. He's the one who encouraged me to join the Corps."

Mac wondered what had triggered those thoughts.

"I was a tomboy growing up if you hadn't guessed that already," Kayce said with a wry smile. "Sort of had to be one, my Dad had wanted a boy, and when he got a girl, he determined that she was going to be able to protect herself. So in his own way, he made me tough."

"So why become a sniper?" It seemed like a natural question to ask.

"Part of my upbringing, ma'am. Learned to shoot when I was very young. Remember, Dad had wanted a boy. I tried to fill those shoes. Went from there. Got really good with rifles. My boyfriends liked to take me to a shooting range and have me pose as a princess. When some jerk would bet that I couldn't fire a rifle without falling down, let alone hit a target, I got to show them that I was a crack shot."

"So you hustled them."

Kayce's smile grew wider when she remembered those times. "You could say that. I wasn't a dainty flower, ma'am." She then abruptly shifted her interest. "What about you?"

Mac decided if she avoided the question, it would only create more questions. So she decided to give a version of her background. "Grew up in Arizona; Dad in the Corps, mother one generation removed from the Reservation. You could say my Dad wanted me to be tough too, but I wasn't as receptive as you were to the idea."

Empathy filled Kayce's voice. "He beat your Mom, didn't he?"

It caught Mac off guard. She did the only thing she knew to do even though it would probably arouse suspicion. "I'd rather not talk about it," the Light Colonel snapped, suddenly brusque.

But Kayce was understanding of what she thought was a defensive response due to nervousness about an officer letting herself get too familiar with enlisted personnel. "It's okay ma'am. Both Don and I had tough fathers. Mine was a beat cop; Don's was in Army Special Forces."

It was apparent that Kayce and Don knew each other. Maybe that was the reason Kayce had ended up in this unit. How she had missed the familiarity between these two made Mac even more nervous. What else had she missed? "You and Corporal Burges?" she speculated.

Kayce let out an amused chuckle. Don looked away from his driving for moment, embarrassment coloring his features. "No ma'am, we're just good friends. We both went to Sacramento State, Colonel. Kayce helped me with my language studies."

"Coming up on our initial rally point, Colonel." Sergeant Williams reported over the radio, interrupting the little 'bonding moment' they were having. Sarah MacKenzie inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. But she knew this probe was far from over. She'd have to be more careful from here on in.

SEAL Team 'Rat Patrol'

Initial Rally Point (IRP)

Somewhere Northwest of Mirbullah

The SEAL CO, Commander Brad May, had his team well concealed in the underbrush just to the south of the Force Recon platoon.

Brad had to admit to a smidgen of pride. Despite the fact that his unit was rather 'vehicle heavy' with three desert patrol vehicles [DPVs] and three HMMWVs, they were definitely well concealed. His men had done an excellent job of camouflaging their vehicles and fighting positions at this IRP.

He'd even lay odds that ole Darcy's team would never spot them.

They had been watching this platoon since they left Camp Chesty Puller. Despite their native garb and technicals, Ebbits' unit really did stick out like a sore thumb.

At least it looked that way to Commander May.

For the last hour, the Galveston, Texas native had been surveying Ebbits' platoon. Not much had happened. After their CO and her senior Sergeants had directed everyone to dig in, Darcy's lead unit in this operation had been relatively quiet. It was as if they were waiting for something.

Brad told his men to keep their eyes peeled for any movement in the recon platoon's camp. Their man inside Ebbits' unit had warned them that 'something' was 'getting ready to happen'.

What, he didn't know, but he knew it involved the new CO.

From what the SEAL officer could tell, the Force Recon CO looked to be pretty 'by-the-book' in her running of her unit. She wasn't as sloppy as some of Darcy's other officers. It was too bad this woman was a traitor to her country….

He knew it was unusual for Force Recon teams to be run by female officer, but Darcy was woman, so it stood to reason that she would entrust a mission of this importance to one of her 'lieutenants'. The 'something' that was 'getting ready to happen' could be anything.

A meeting with al-Qaeda leaders, a resupply of Fedayeen soldiers, they could even be waiting for the SCUD missile truck that Commander May's unit been hunting the last few weeks.

Special Agent Webb had made it clear; they were to use extreme prejudice against that target and either ensure that the missile truck couldn't fire off its payload or they were to destroy it in such a way that it wouldn't contaminate the countryside.

A tall order, but Brad May just considered it just another job that had to be done. That, and the neutralizing of Ebbits' wayward unit.

Brad had left the observation position still occupied by his Master Chief Petty Officer (MCPO), Darrell Coskill. Darrell, born and raised in the piney woods of East Texas, knew all about how to stalk wild animals and to him, Ebbits' unit was the same thing; a wild animal that had become a menace that needed to be put down.

Brad was about to take a sip from his canteen when he heard a hiss from MCPO Coskill.

"Commander, something's going down."

Brad screwed the lid back on his canteen and made his way back over to the observation position.

"Oh yeah? What is it Master Chief?" He asked as he slid into the foxhole with the MCPO.

Darrell had his binoculars trained on Ebbits' position. "Looks like the new CO is having a falling out with her platoon, sir…."

Mac's unit was securing their positions for the evening. At 0200, they would be up and on their way to their objective. Right now it was time for a little shut eye – lookouts were posted and the rest of the unit had informally gathered around the unit's three technicals which were parked in a star shaped defensive position in the middle of their encampment.

All had been going well until Mac noticed that Staff Sergeants' Dallas and Corbin seemed perturbed and preoccupied. More telling was Corporal Calapango; he seemed to make himself scarce, preferring to man a lookout point rather than mingling with the rest of the group.

Don Burges, who had been working on his truck, pulled himself out of the engine well when Mac and the Master Guns walked past.

"Will she hold up, Corporal?" Victor asked nonchalantly.

"I'll make sure she gets to hell and back; ma'am, Master Guns…." Then without saying anything else, he stuck his head back in the engine compartment.

While this little exchange had taken place, Mac had noticed that the mood in their little camp had shifted, becoming unsettled…almost tense. Even Kayce seemed on edge.

Mac and Victor shared a quick worried look.

"Ma'am, Master Guns, would you step over her for a moment?"

On their guard, Mac and Victor walked over to where Staff Sergeant Dallas was standing. "What is it Staff Sergeant?"

"Just a quick question, ma'am. Did Colonel Livingston tell you anything else about this operation?" The question seemed somewhat pointed.

"You heard my briefing Staff Sergeant," Victor said trying not to sound irritated. "What else would she have said?"

Mark Dallas' eyes focused on Victor. "Something about the real reason for us being out here, Master Guns…"

"What are you driving at, Staff Sergeant?"

"…you ever heard the song, Witchy Woman, by the Eagles?" asked Kayce. It was an odd question.

"Yeah, I have; now what does this have to do with Colonel Livingston, Corporal?" Mac was equally curious and irritated by these questions. Just what were they trying to learn?

For the first time, Corporal Logan spoke. "So you're friends with Colonel Livingston?" her question was directed at both of them.

Mac looked at Victor and then at the assembled members of the recon team. (Show time…) she thought. "Yeah; we both go way back with her….'' Kayce had fooled her; they all had. This unit was dirty.

That was when Victor and Mac got the surprise of their lives. Every rifle and pistol in the encampment swung toward them. "Well that's too bad, sister," snorted Logan, as the weapons were taken off safety.

-TBC…


	69. Chapter 68

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 68

A/N1: Disclaimers and other vital information can be found in story archive for …FMS which can be found in the chapter story notes.

A/N2: **~~** indicates flashback or dream sequence ( ) indicates the thoughts of a person. *~* indicates a scene shift not otherwise indicated by a JAG time stamp. ~~~ indicates a dream sequence.

A/N3: Thanks to my friend and beta Karen who is my sounding board and has helped me see this through. Kudos to AeroGirl, Mkim, Soleil, TZ, Janlaw for providing their help and technical expertise. Also thanks to Mary Ann and Lisa Griffon [Yahoo Shipper Group] for their continuing support.

Mac and Victor stood stock still for a moment. Mac looked around the group. A few of them seemed like unwilling participants, but Sergeants Dallas and Corbin and Corporals Danvers and Logan looked determined. Szymas and Calapango were conspicuously absent.

Staff Sergeant Dallas seemed to be the ringleader. "Colonel, Master Guns, put your weapons on the ground, nice and slow. All of them. Now."

Kayce motioned her rifle toward the ground to emphasize Dallas' 'request'. "Now Colonel."

Logan seemed to be getting an even itchier trigger finger. "You heard them, Master Guns. Unt uh, brother, don't try to be a hero. You'd be dead before you could make a move."

Mac began to slowly unsnap her pistol holster. "You're making a mistake, Dallas."

"I don't think so, Colonel. And easy does it with that pistol, ma'am; we don't want there to be any accidents…."

"Your career is over, Dallas," hissed Victor.

"I don't think so, Master Guns," replied Logan who was smiling for the first time. "I think he might get a medal for this…."

"How do you figure that, Corporal?" Mac said as she pulled her service pistol from her ankle holster and lowered it toward the ground.

"You two are crooked! Conspirators with Colonel Livingston! She's aiding the insurgents-"

"That's enough Logan!" Corbin snapped. Then he turned to Victor and motioned with his sidearm. "Now Master Guns, lay your rifle on the ground. Slowly."

Mac exchanged a quick look with Victor. "Do as he says, Master Guns."

Mac could tell Master Gunnery Sergeant Galindez was torn between obeying their captors and making a break for it. Finally, slowly and deliberately, he lowered his assault rifle to the ground.

"Aye ma'am."

Mac was starting to sweat profusely despite the coolness of the night air, but she still looked defiant. She turned back to Sergeant Dallas.

"What do you intend to do with us, Staff Sergeant, now that we're disarmed?"

Mark Dallas motioned with his rifle for her to move away from the cluster of pickup trucks. "You'll find out soon enough, ma'am." His motioned with his rifle for Victor to do the same. "After you, Master Guns…."

Kayce and Logan picked up their discarded weapons. Mac noticed that both Corporals were wearing gloves. It was obvious they didn't want to get any fingerprints on the weapons.

Mac started to raise her hands, but Kayce thrust her rifle toward her.

"Keep your hands down ma'am; we want to make this look as natural as possible…."

Master Chief Petty Officer (MCPO), Darrell Coskill strained to see with his binoculars what was going on in the nearby camp. Obviously Commander May had a better view of the situation. "Can you see what's going on, Commander?"

Brad May lowered his binoculars and turned to the MCPO. "Yeah, Master Chief; it looks like Petty Officer Burke has his hands full right now…."

"Is he in trouble, sir?"

The SEAL Team CO shook his head. "No, not yet; but it looks real hairy over there right now…."

Mac and Victor 'led' the procession of Force Recon soldiers who were moving away from the pickup trucks. They ran squarely into Staff Sergeant Reynolds and Corpsman Yader who had been checking on the Marines manning the lookout posts.

Leonard goggled at the rifles trained on Mac and the Master Guns. "Colonel? Master Guns? What the hell!"

Reynolds was slow in responding, but Yader reacted by instinct and aimed his rifle at Staff Sergeant Dallas. "Let them go, Staff Sergeant!"

Logan quickly pointed her rifle at Yader. "Drop your weapon, Corpsman!"

"Stand down Corpsman!" barked Corbin.

The young Corpsman didn't flinch. "No Staff Sergeant; not until you let the Colonel and Master Guns go…."

Joe Corbin was surprised by the young squid's bravery. But, whether or not this kid was one of theirs or just misguided, he couldn't let the Master Gunny and this sea lawyer do whatever they were planning to do.

"We can't do that, Corpsman…."

Now Leonard Reynolds had his sidearm out, but he wasn't pointing it at anyone in particular.

His voice seemed unusually strident. "Mark! Joe! This is nuts!" He looked from one Staff Sergeant to the other. "You can't kill an officer and a senior enlisted and get away with it, Mark! Joe, try to talk some sense into him!"

Mark Dallas sensed that Reynolds was closed to panicking which could be bad news for all of them considering all the guns being pointed were off safety. He decided a command might cause Leonard Reynolds to respond automatically.

"Back off Leonard! This is none of your concern!"

But Leon's automatic response was not what he hoped it would be. "The hell it isn't! You can't do this!"

Logan kept her weapon trained on the Corpsman. "Begging your pardon, Staff Sergeant, but we can and we are. Now tell the Corpsman to lower his weapon…."

Leonard looked from Mac to Corpsman Yader. Mac said nothing. The platoon Sergeant shook his head. "I can't do that, Corporal. Lay down your weapons."

Mac could see that Corbin was trying to reason with Reynolds. "Leon, this woman is poison. She's the reason Ebbits was killed…."

But the platoon Sergeant had his own line of reasoning. "Joe, if she's what you say she is, we should let the JAGs handle it…."

Surprisingly it was Kayce Danvers who poured cold water on that "Begging your pardon Staff Sergeant Reynolds, but *she* was one of those JAGs – what makes you think they wouldn't be corrupt as well?"

Now Yader waded into the conversation. "So that justifies killing them?"

"Geez! What the hell?" Corporal Jim Stallings stopped dead in his tracks. He had been one of the first who had volunteered to man one of the lookout posts, so obviously he hadn't been privy to Staff Sergeant Dallas' plans. He quickly brought his rifle up and aimed it at Corporal Danvers.

"Stallings! Stand down!" snapped Dallas.

Stallings looked to Reynolds for clarification. "Staff Sergeant? What the hell is going on?"

Leonard Reynolds seemed to understand his confusion. "Easy son, I'm trying to figure that out now…Mark, whatever they've done…this is not the way to avenge Ebbits…."

Joe Corbin snorted. "Look Leon, if you're trying to score points with the Colonel, she'd just have you killed sooner or later; this lady does not have any friends."

For the first time, Kayce Danvers looked embarrassed. "Don't worry, Colonel, it'll be over soon."

Mac knew what their intentions were. A fragging incident. It would look like an insurgent attack that unfortunately claimed the lives of the platoon commander and her platoon sergeant.

"You're making it look like an accident?" Mac asked innocently hoping they would verify her guess.

Logan rolled her eyes in disgust at that suggestion. "Begging your pardon, ma'am, but get real. We have our own skins to think about. Besides you don't want to be around for what she's going to do next…."

Two of the pickup trucks started their engines and moved closer to the group

Joe Corbin looked over at Salvatore Williams in the driver seat of the closest pickup. "Sergeant? Are you with us?"

Sergeant Williams nodded silently as did Corporal Burges. Corporal Willet was nowhere to be found.

Stallings who could best be described as nebbish by anyone's standards, had a panic stricken look on his face. "You can't kill all of us-"

He moved his rifle threateningly toward Logan. Logan and Kayce aimed their rifles at him and Eddie Willet appeared in the back of Burges truck manning the .50 caliber aiming it toward Stallings.

"Lower that rifle Stallings! Stand down I said!" Barked Reynolds trying to get the situation under control.

Mark Dallas agreed with Reynolds that things had gotten too intense. "Everybody back down a notch! Now! Weapons on safety!"

As pistols and automatic rifles could be heard being switched to safe mode, Victor shot the Light Colonel a quick glance. This might be their opportunity to end this standoff before anyone else got involved or a shootout erupted.

Mac nodded. She cleared her throat catching the attention of the wary Marines. In her best courtroom persona she directed her query to whom she thought was the ringleader. "Staff Sergeant Dallas, may I be allowed to present my case?"

Mark chucked, "Present your case? What do think this is, *ma'am*? A court martial?"

Joe shook his head in disgust. "Just like an attorney, she wants to try and weasel her way out of this-"

Mac ignored his barb. "You think I'm corrupt; in league with Colonel Livingston-"

Now it was Corporal Logan's turn to scoff. "Now wait just a damn minute; you said yourself that you and the Master Guns 'went way back with her'. Are you trying to tell us different now?"

Mark, though, wanted to see if she could convince them. Despite his belief that Joe was right and that she was responsible for Carlson Ebbits' death, she had earned his grudging respect by not being a skylarking eightball…despite the reputation that preceded her.

"Okay Colonel, you can have your say. But no sea stories; you have to give us some solid evidence that you are something other than a drunken excuse for an officer in league with killers."

Had this been any other situation, Mac might have ripped this guy a new one, but considering the amount of firepower present and who she supposedly was, she opted for a logical rational discussion of the situation before launching into her opening argument.

"Staff Sergeant Dallas, you say I was responsible for Lieutenant Ebbits' death. Were you there when he died?"

"Forget the bid for our sympathy chits, *Colonel*" Joe Corbin ground out, "Master Gunny Wilbane told us how you arranged for the Lieutenant to get killed in that insurgent attack. Sure you were holding him in your arms and crying crocodile tears over him, but Wilbane gave us the word. You killed him as sure as if you had pulled the trigger yourself."

Mac had not expected the venom of Corbin's retort or the fact that Rudy Wilbane had obviously set her up for this fall, probably under Darcy's orders. Another test for her.

The Light Colonel nodded her head contritely. "You're right, Staff Sergeant Corbin, I shouldn't play on your sympathy, and I'm not going to. I'm merely stating the fact that you and Staff Sergeant Dallas were not there, so all that you have is second-hand knowledge of what happened between myself and Lieutenant Ebbits. Even Master Guns Wilbane did not know about our conversation"

For a moment Joe and Mark exchanged wary looks. Despite what Master Gunny Wilbane had told them, it *was* still second hand information.

Kayce during this exchange had lowered her assault rifle. "I was there, Staff Sergeant Dallas."

"So what did you see?"

"The same thing I did, Staff Sergeant, only she didn't *hear* what the Colonel told Lieutenant Ebbits and me…"

Mark Dallas wheeled around at the sound of the voice. "Szymas! I thought I told you to stay at the perimeter! We're handling this…."

"Then in order to handle it properly; don't judge Silver Leaf just on Master Guns Wilbanes' *scuttlebutt* alone."

The way Casmir Szymas emphasized 'scuttlebutt' Mac wondered if the Sergeant would help her out.

Joe Corbin seemed irritated with the Sergeant. "Okay Szymas; so what did *Tin Leaf* tell you?" Corbin used the derogatory nickname for Lieutenant Colonel to emphasize he still didn't trust Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie.

"Silver Leaf, that is, the Colonel, told me she was working undercover. Her real job is to nail Colonel Livingston. Just like Ebbits wanted…and just like you and Dallas want."

Victor watched the gathered Marines and their expressions. There were looks of doubt and some of anger and some of disgust with this whole fiasco. The ones who seemed to be genuinely interested were Kayce Danvers, Leonard Reynolds, Doc Yader and Jim Stallings.

"That's a nice story Szymas-" Logan began as she started to raise her rifle again, prompting Stallings and Yader to raise their rifles in response.

"I'm not finished!" Casmir said sharply. Immediately all three lowered their weapons again. "I did some checking, I have contacts at JAG Corps-"

"You run around with Dumb and Dumber?" Corbin said as an obvious reference to JAD officers Barnett and Johnson. "I thought you had more class than that-"

"JAG Corps, Staff Sergeant Corbin. *Judge Advocate General's Corps*." He repeated for emphasis. When it was clear the Sergeant had made his point that MacKenzie was not part of Vince and Stephen's team, he continued. "I called a Lieutenant I met in DC a couple of years ago. Let's just say she kept me in the Corps."

"Didn't figure you for a brig rat, Sergeant" harrumphed Logan.

Dallas' quick cutting look could have melted an iceberg. "Lock it up Logan; let the Sergeant have his say…."

"Aye sir," Logan replied, a bit chastened by his rebuke, but her face didn't show any evidence of shame or regret.

Casmir continued. "Anyway, she owed me a favor. I asked the Lieutenant about Colonel MacKenzie. She asked me why I was asking about her…and I told her I was in trouble. She told me 'in that case I couldn't have picked a better lawyer…one of the JAG's best troubleshooters'."

"A troubleshooter?" Logan wasn't sure what Szymas meant. That term raised more than a few eyebrows in the assembled group.

"She and the other officers in her organization take on crew-served problems," he told the group. "Sometimes at the behest of the SecNav, other times at the request of the CNO."

"Like Lukens and Buell's court martial…." Stallings pointed out.

Szymas nodded. "And that's not all; she and Commander Rabb have gone undercover many times to root out tangos. Their files and missions are classified, but the Lieutenant said she knew their latest case involved terrorists who have contacts in the Corps. Scuttlebutt around the Lieutenant's office is that they are after the terrorists who attacked Admiral Chegwidden's Headquarters."

Undercover? Reynolds seemed totally mystified by this revelation. "You mean the Colonel is undercover now? Who's your contact, Szymas?"

"Lieutenant Meriwether, Fran Meriwether."

"Sonova-" Mark Dallas lowered his pistol, obviously stunned by this announcement.

Joe Corbin looked over at his confederate and then back at Mac, trying to decide just what was going on. His pistol, which he had trained on the Colonel and the Master Guns, wavered a little. "Mark?"

"I know Meriwether, Joe. She got me off of a trumped up DUI in a little North Carolina backwater town. Their breathalyzer was malfunctioning and though I wasn't drunk that night, the incident scared me. I never took another drink again."

Mark Dallas turned and addressed the group. "Meriwether's a straight arrow. As straight as they come. She wouldn't lie for anyone."

Stallings though, still wasn't convinced. "It still could be a sea story…."

But Sergeant Szymas had an answer for that. "…except that she gave me the names of some other people to verify the Colonel's record. And they did. She's on the level. Sorry I had to blow your cover, Colonel, but you understand."

Mac nodded silently.

Kayce lowered her eyes. She couldn't believe that she had nearly killed the Colonel and just on the word of Master Guns Wilbane alone. And Wilbane had been wrong. Worse yet, she hadn't checked with Szymas after all, he had heard her conversation with Ebbits. Now it was time to make up for that oversight.

"Staff Sergeant Dallas; if Sergeant Szymas believes her, then, that's good enough for me." She shouldered her rifle, turned and held out her hand to Mac. "Sorry I doubted you, Colonel."

Mac wondered for a brief moment if she should shake hands with Kayce. But winning the trust of this unit overrode any lingering doubts that she might still have about her 'Darcy designated' aide.

With that handshake, rifles were shouldered and pistols were placed back in holsters. The crisis, for the moment, had passed.

Logan, though, was slow to shoulder hers. She snorted indignantly. "I don't like lawyers, but if Danvers says you're cool, that's good enough for me."

Mac could tell that even though Logan had not added 'for the moment' that sentiment was in her eyes. The Light Colonel had a long way to go toward completely winning Logan's trust and probably the trust of others in this unit. The question still remained; just how many Darcy loyalists were there still in this unit?

2000? Local

Somewhere over the Persian Gulf

It was Harm's first night flight in a long time. He couldn't help but feel a little nervous about doing it even though his 'night blindness' had been surgically corrected.

Because Harm's replacement RIO had gotten in so late, the CAG had no choice but to assign Harm to a night patrol. 'We don't have the luxury of taking the usual amount of time to feel out new people,' the CAG had told him, 'because we never know when someone else is going to be hit by this flu bug.' 'Besides Rabb,' he added 'You'll get a chance to meet one of the other new pilots in your squadron on this patrol.'

Harm remembered nodding and accepting the CAG's 'gracious offer'. So now, here he was on night patrol with 'Flying Cloud'…another new member of his squadron.

"How are you doing up there, Hammer?"

Harm couldn't help but smile at the confidant cocky voice of his new Radar Intercept Officer [RIO] Peter 'Right Turn, Clyde' Gibbon. Pete had red hair, and his body shape did, in vague way, resemble that of an orangutan.

"I was about to ask you the same thing, Clyde." Quipped Harm, keeping his eyes trained on the night sky ahead of him.

"Oh, I'm doing just fine and dandy now that I'm back in the air and not breathing dust all the time…."

Harm chuckled at his response. It wasn't too many years ago that Harmon Rabb, Jr. might have said that very same thing.

"Say Hammer, is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"Are you really a JAG Corps lawyer?"

Harm turned their aircraft to the right. His wingman followed his lead "In my other life, yeah…."

"Kinda like a superhero…mild mannered lawyer by day, 'Cat pilot by night? So what are you doing here, investigating a case? And if you are, I swear I didn't do it…"

Harm laughed. He liked Pete's sense of humor. "No cases. Got called up just like you, Clyde."

"Well, I don't know about you-" suddenly his voice turned serious. "Hammer, I've got two bogies inbound."

Clyde's report was immediately confirmed by Flying Cloud. "Got two fighters inbound, Hammer. Smoker confirms them as Iranian Dassault Mirage F1's"

Harm was glad that Flying Cloud's RIO hadn't told them they were Tomcats. They would have been more of a challenge. "That would be our nightly visit from our friendly Iranian watchdogs. What do you say we go over and say hello, Flying Cloud?"

"Lead the way, Hammer…."

Pete echoed Harm's silent thoughts. "I don't like them being this close to our current home."

"Me either Clyde; hang on…."

Harm kicked his Tomcat further over to the right and the two American fighters wheeled in the night sky toward the two approaching Iranian jets.

"They're turning right toward us, Hammer."

"I figured they would…."

"They're painting us with their radar!" Pete noted a little too stringently.

"Confirmed Hammer;" came back Flying Cloud's calm voice, "I'm being painted too."

"I'm on it," He said to both men. He switched his radio to the Iranian air force emergency frequency which he knew the pilots should be monitoring "Unidentified aircraft you are in restricted airspace, you are ordered to turn around and leave the area."

"Still inbound and painting us with their radar." Clyde reported tersely.

"Unidentified aircraft you are in restricted airspace, Harm repeated, this time a little more forcefully, "you are to turn around and leave the area, immediately."

This time Flying Cloud answered. "No change Hammer."

"Unidentified aircraft you are in restricted airspace; you are ordered to turn around now or we will shoot you down."

Flying Cloud's voice came over the voice cockpit intercom. "Permission to arm my Sidewinders and smoke him, Hammer." In days long ago, Harm might have asked permission to do the same thing.

"Negative, Flying Cloud; not yet. Let's show' em we mean business first. On my signal; light up your radar."

The distance between the two sections of aircraft disappeared rapidly.

"Damn, I had no idea they liked playing chicken so much." Pete said sounding a little sick to his stomach.

Harm understood how he felt. But the last thing they needed right now was an international incident, but they also couldn't let the Iranians just fly up to the carrier to say 'hello'. It was time to act.

"They think it's their pond. Flying Cloud, let's light'em up."

"Roger Hammer."

"Unidentified aircraft! Turn around immediately! This is your last warning!"

"They're breaking off, Hammer." Flying Cloud noted as the two jets split their formation and wheeled around in the sky headed back for Iranian airspace.

"Cagey little buggers aren't they?" Pete said as he watched the two planes rapidly retreat into the inky darkness. Harm was surprised Pete hadn't used any expletives to describe their visitors.

"They only act as they are told to, Clyde. Turn off your radar, Flying Cloud. They don't want to play tonight."

"Roger Hammer, good call. I owe you a cold one for keeping us out of that furball."

"And I'll collect Flying Cloud. Now let's get back to our patrol."

"Roger Hammer, Flying Cloud out."

Pete's praise was far more effusive. "Bravo Zulu Hammer! Man, I've forgotten just how much *fun* night patrol can be! I think I lost 50 pounds just now…."

Harm laughed again. "You and me both, Clyde. Let's hope the rest of this patrol is uneventful."

In the back of his mind, Harm wondered if these Iranian probes were part of something larger… maybe they were tied to the insurgent attacks….

'You're letting the conspiracy theorist in you get carried away, Hammer' he chided himself.

Sure, he had seen this kind of muscle flexing before – Libya-The Gulf of Sidra; North Korea-Sea of Japan; and Serbia – over Kosovo. So, no ulterior motives here; just some pilots told to test the American's resolve.

Still, knowing Darcy Livingston's reach it seemed probable if not possible, that the Iranians could be doing diversionary tactics….

The Washington DC Major Case Response Team filed into the darkened room. They had done this many times before at the Navy Yard, but it still felt a little odd to be doing this in reverse – viewing Abby's Lab from a foreign location rather than the other way around.

But instead of Abby's face, Gibbs stood looking at the test pattern on the screen. Tony stood with Commander Faith Coleman, behind and to the right of Gibbs.

"You *did say* you had an incoming teleconference call from NCIS Headquarters?"

An obviously flustered Corporal was busy tapping keys on his keyboard. "Yes Sir; sorry Special Agent Gibbs, we're having a little trouble with the signal. It'll be just a moment…."

Tony leaned over and whispered to Faith "Glad we're not in the firing line this time."

Faith merely quirked one of her eyebrows in response.

Tony didn't like the way it seemed that this JAG Corps lawyer looked right through him sometimes. "Hey, I'm just saying – it's not good to keep Gibbs waiting."

That comment made her eyebrow go higher. "Is this another Gibbs' rule?"

"More like the *golden rule* when working with Gibbs, Commander."

The Navy Commander and Agent DiNozzo turned their attention to the nervous and sweaty Corporal who had the silver haired NCIS Agent leaning over his shoulder.

"Are we getting *any closer* Corporal?" The irritation in Gibbs voice was becoming evident.

"Ah, al-almost got it, sir, Special Agent Gibbs…" The clicking and tapping of the keyboard keys grew more furious.

"Corporal?"

"There it is! Oh thank you God, there it is! Oh! Sorry Sir! I mean-"

The NCIS Special Agent waved the Corporal away and motioned for him to be quiet. Tony and Faith fought hard to suppress smiles.

Tony looked at the coalescing image on the screen. Behind Abby were several other people, including Ducky and the other JAGC lawyer, Major McBurney and someone else he hadn't expected to see.

"McGeek? You're letting that Probie come up and work in our office, Boss? Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, isn't he brand new to the field-"

Gibbs just turned and looked at his senior field agent and subordinate. It was that angry stare that the Senior NCIS Agent had used many times.

Tony looked like a deer pinned in headlights. He involuntarily swallowed. "Shutting it, Boss." He said just as quickly.

The silver haired NCIS Special Agent turned back to the screen.

"What have you got, Abbs?"

Abby Sciuto was rubbing her temples. "A really bad headache from reading all that stuff Commander Rabb sent, but that's not what you want to hear…"

The big teleconference screen immediately split in two showing what Abby had showed Ducky and the others a little while ago. "…we found matching characteristics on the bullet from Lewis' weapon and those slugs recovered at the scene of Lieutenant Dodge's death."

"Ducky also found that Captain Lewis' background is completely made up – a total fiction."

"Like a well crafted fairy tale, Jethro." Ducky added.

Gibbs nodded. "What else do we know about Lewis?"

At this point Tim McGee thought it was okay to chime in "Uh, not much, sir; Captain Jacques 'Jac' Lewis been pretty much flying under everyone's radar; outstanding service record and fit reps…"

Just like the information in the report from Fornell. 'Squeaky clean.'

"Known associates?" Gibbs said tersely interrupting Tim's wandering report.

Now it was McBurney's turn. "That's where we might have something, Gibbs."

The image on a screen split again, this time the other side showed two service records. One for Captain Lewis and one for Master Gunnery Sergeant Rudy Wilbane. "He's friends with a Master Gunnery Sergeant, Rudy Wilbane."

McBurney continued. "The Master Gunnery Sergeant's real name is Rafid al-Wahib, but he changed it when his family moved to the United States after Operation Desert Storm. When we cross-referenced his real name, and we found he had contributed to a few charities known to have ties to the 9-11 attacks."

It was rare when Gibbs was flabbergasted. This was one of those times. Tony swore he could actually see his Boss's blood pressure rising. Gibbs did not like being surprised.

"And this *was missed* in his security review? What about his connection to Lewis?"

The NCIS Medical Examiner sought to calm his friend. Which admittedly wasn't an easy task. "One mystery at a time, Jethro. They didn't miss the name change in his security review…"

Before the silver haired NCIS Agent could say anything else, Abby added. "More like it was dismissed, Gibbs…"

McBurney nodded his agreement with her flippant comment. "There was an investigation, but the Regional Investigative Coordinator who was in charge said in his report that the Master Gunnery Sergeant didn't know they were fronts for funding terrorist operations. The agent said and I'm quoting from the note attached to the report '…further investigation revealed that Master Gunnery Sergeant Wilbane' or al-Wahib 'was telling the truth.'"

Gibbs felt embarrassed, which in turn, made him angry - again. He knew who that Regional Investigative Coordinator was. Sedrick Phillips. He had conveniently done Rudy Wilbane's review. The former RIC had played him again.

Now it was Ducky's turn again. "As for his connection to this whole mess, Master Gunnery Sergeant Wilbane and Captain Lewis also worked together during Operation Anaconda."

"When Colonel Bill Murphy was killed-" Gibbs said thinking aloud. He had read the reports on what the press had said had happened and he'd be willing to bet that a certain JAG would be pretty pissed off when he learned that Captain Lewis had been present during that 'friendly fire' incident.

Abby was now smiling. "Exactly; plus we found that some of the bullets recovered from Murphy matched the bullets found at the Dodge murder scene."

The Goth Forensic Specialist was worth her weight in gold. "Good job Abbs."

She had found the one piece of evidence that could be used to nail Phillips, Wilbane, and Lewis…maybe even Colonel Livingston herself.

But instead of glowing in this praise from Gibbs, Abby was quick to point out she wasn't alone in this hunt for the truth.

"Oh it wasn't just me, Gibbs. Special Agent McGee has been a big help; very big…helped me with Commander Rabb's files, locating the missing action reports from Operation Anaconda and Colonel Murphy's death-"

Gibbs nodded acknowledging what Abby was trying to say. "I get it Abbs; thank you for your help, Special Agent McGee. I'll let your supervisor at Norfolk know what an asset you've been to our investigation."

Tim McGee nodded. "Uh, thank you, ah, Special Agent Gibbs."

The senior NCIS Agent gave him a nod back. A little nervous, but the kid showed potential.

Abby though, wasn't finished. "Oh wait Gibbs, Major McBurney and Ducky and Commander Coulter; they were also a big, big help as well…"

Gibbs sighed. "I figured that Abbs…"

"It would be nice if you thanked them too…"

For some reason, the NCIS Forensics Specialist was being more forward than usual. Gibbs decided to remind her that there was a limit to what he would let her get away with "Abby-!"

"Yes Gibbs?" the NCIS Forensics Specialist replied timidly. Pissing off Gibbs had not been on her to-do list today.

Her meek response was enough to put off his reprimand. "If you let me talk, I'll thank them."

Abby nodded her head, eyes cast downward like a school child that had been scolded. "Right Gibbs, sorry."

Ducky shook his head. "No need to thank us, Jethro; we want to catch these 'dirtbags' as bad as you want to."

The silver haired NCIS Agent smiled at his old friend's use of a term that Gibbs commonly used to refer to bad guys.

Faith leaned towards Tony and whispered, "Can dirtbags be female?"

Tony cocked an eyebrow at her with a look of 'are you kidding?' on his face. "Dirtbags can be male or female." He quickly whispered back. He didn't want to miss any of this.

"I know you do, Duck; and we will."

Gibbs focused on the JAG Lawyer. "Major?"

"No thanks is necessary, Gibbs, I was just glad to help."

"Tell Admiral Chegwidden that NCIS would be glad to help with the Colonel Murphy cold case."

John Michael McBurney began smiling. "I'm sure he'd like that, Special Agent."

"Abby!"

"Yeah Gibbs!"

"Send us everything you have up to this point-"

McGee quickly spoke up in her defense. "It's on its way, uh, Special Agent Gibbs; Abby, uh, that is, Ms. Sciuto, she just sent it out with a special courier…."

Gibbs' eyebrows, as well as Abby's, were raised at the probationary Agent's use of his Forensic Specialist's first name.

Gibbs wondered just what the heck was going on back there between those two?

"And Abby-"

She quickly finished the sentence for him "—right O great Navy Criminal Investigator; I'll send you anything else that I find on Captain Lewis and Master Guns Wilbane."

2100 Local

Shark Two [Mac's Unit]

Initial Rally Point (IRP)

Somewhere Northwest of Mirbullah

Once the 'meeting' was over, everyone got back to the routine of getting ready for the next leg of their recon mission.

Victor looked at his watch. "Well, this has been fun, but now it's time for breakfast, Marines, He said to the three Staff Sergeants. "We'll eat in shifts, so someone watches the perimeter at all times."

"Aye, aye, Master Guns."

As the group broke up, the Master Guns made his way over to Mac. Victor gave her that smarmy smile. "So you're investigating Colonel Livingston?"

The Light Colonel followed his cue; Gunny still suspected some members of the platoon. She nodded. "Yes, Master Guns. There's reason to believe she aided and abetted the insurgents, provided them with intel and logistics support."

"She's a piece of work, isn't she?"

Mac almost laughed. Instead she coughed. "Yeah, a real piece of work." She replied wryly.

She could see the twinkle in Victor's eyes has he continued. He was really enjoying this. "Well, it looks like you and I get to eat with the first shift. Shall we go over to the chow hall?"

"Lead the way, Master Guns."

Kayce was sitting with Sergeant Szymas, 'Lance Criminal' Crockett, Evan Mickens, Eddie Willet and Staff Sergeant Dallas. Lance Corporal Crockett looked up at Mac and Victor's approach.

"Care to join us, ma'am, Master Guns? We've got a lovely view of the sand dune next to us…"

Mac smirked. "How can I resist such an invitation, Lance Criminal?" Both Mac and Victor sat down with the group and everyone began opening their MREs

Eddie shook his head after peering inside his packet. "Damn, I have bravo deltas, again."

Evan snorted. "Trade ya; I got beef, grease, and shrapnel." Eddie made a face and shook his head no.

Kayce chuckled and tossed Eddie a packet. "Here…mix that with some of my powdered bug juice; that'll take the edge off it…." Eddie tore open the packet and poured the powder into his open bag.

Mac leaned over and looked in the bag that Willet was now methodically stirring.

She blanched. "That looks-"

Kayce interrupted "—pretty unappetizing, but trust me ma'am, after eating these things for a few months, you'll try anything once to make'em taste different."

Mac nodded in understanding. Rations, no matter how well prepared in the MRE tended to get bland after a while. Nutritious, but bland. Marines were famous for coming up with unique home-cooked recipes by mixing the contents of various MREs.

Willet stopped stirring and took a bite of the pinkish mass. "Good stuff, Kayce…" he said between mouthfuls.

Kayce nodded. For a few minutes, the group ate in silence, simply enjoying the chance to relax, if only a few moments.

Staff Sergeant Dallas finished his meal first. "So Colonel, where to now? Did Colonel Livingston tell you our objective?"

Mac traded a look with Victor. "We keep heading northwest." Was all she said in response.

Eddie Willet spoke up next. "Ma'am, do you really think that al-Sahood and his bunch have their hideout up here somewhere?"

"All intel points to that, Corporal. We did find that they had an operational BMD personnel carrier." Mac replied.

That prompted Dallas to speak up again. "So we know that al-Sahood somehow got hold of some WMDs and maybe a FROG or SCUD tractor trailer rig, but begging the Colonel's pardon, what does he intend to do? Use those Iraqi improvised slingshots to fling them into Camp Puller?"

Victor chuckled at that comment. "Try a rocket propelled missile, Dallas. And not one of those cobbled together Al Hussein missiles."

That got everyone's attention. And Victor continued.

"A Romeo 17 Echo missile - aka, NATO designation, SCUD-e."

Mac picked up the story from there. "It's the export version that the Soviets sold to Saddam. Not as sophisticated and missing some of the bells and whistles that the Soviet missiles had, but nevertheless it's still a deadly missile with the right payload, and launched from Soviet built MAZ-543P transporter erector launcher."

Crockett and the others could have taken exception to this lawyer telling them about a weapons system they knew all about, but to find this kind of weapons system in the hands of the insurgents made them give her a little leeway…. The Lance Corporal shook his head in disbelief. "I thought all of those things were destroyed when we took Baghdad…."

The Light Colonel explained how the SCUDs were missed. "Sahood's clever. He knew that Saddam had sent one of his SCUD batteries to the units defending Kerbala. It's the same one that fired salvos into Kuwait when we first began to move into Iraq."

Now Victor picked up the story again. "When it was realized that Kerbala couldn't be defended, the generals sent the SCUDs south to bolster the defenses of those combat units north of al Nasiriyah."

"But we didn't find any SCUD launchers when we assaulted Mirbullah…" Evan interjected.

Mac nodded in acknowledgment of that statement. "We know. Intel thinks they're hidden somewhere north of here…"

Dallas summed up the group's unspoken thoughts. "So we're looking for a place big enough to hide a few SCUDS?"

"And their transport and launch vehicles…." Added Victor.

Everyone was silent. It was a sobering thought. It seemed the recon team had thought they were just looking for some beat-up tractor-trailer rigs with a few al-Hussein missiles. Now they knew what Mac and Victor knew. Somewhere out there was who knows how many very reliable Soviet-built SCUD launchers…with operational SCUD missiles…armed with a deadly payload.

Mac was now faced with a dilemma.

Darcy had given her explicit orders not to unveil the specifics of the actual mission objectives until they reached the Objective Rally Point. But the Marine JAG Lawyer didn't want to wait that long. Despite the fact it might tip off the bad guys still left in this unit, she wanted all of them to know what they were really getting into. Telling Dallas, Kayce and the others during their meal and seeing their reaction made up her mind. As soon as everyone finished eating, she'd tell all of them.

It might even cause the bad guys to show their hand early. At least she hoped it would.

2130 Local

Camp Chesty Puller

Thomas 'Zeke' Fuller was walking around behind his vehicle commanders. The acting CO for Rover platoon was just finishing up an evening briefing with his men.

"…and on a personal note, each of you guys should tell your crews they *suck* at close quarters combat."

"Aw c'mon Zeke…"

Sergeant Fuller turned swiftly and faced Corporal Appleton, commander of ROVER 2. "No Jake, you come on! You know as well as I do that crews have to be proficient! You remember Al Nasiriyah? Those AMTRAC crews never thought they would be fighting for their lives either!"

He moved back toward the group of LAV commanders. "You guys have to get it together! We are not going to be here forever. Your crews are getting sloppy and we can't afford that-"

"You're right, Sergeant Fuller, they can't afford to be sloppy…."

Everyone in the assembled group looked up at the sound of the voice. Stunned silence. Staff Sergeant Fuller was the first to react. "Colonel Baxter! Sir, we…I mean, I-"

Andrew Baxter held up his hand. "Don't sweat it Sergeant; do you and your men feel up to a little recon mission?" The MEU XO held up a sheet of paper.

Zeke walked over and eagerly took the sheet from the XO. "Yes sir; you want it done, consider it done. We've been itching to get a little payback…"

But Colonel Baxter had some sobering words for the acting commander of Rover platoon.

"Staff Sergeant, I came down here personally to impress on you that this is to *strictly* be a recon mission. Colonel Livingston's Recon Marines are already on the hunt for al-Sahood and are in the process of locating his hideout. Your *job* is to work with the local provisional Iraqi army units and investigate the roadways and terrain in and out of the area they find and report back to me."

Zeke was stung by the comment. "Do we pull back as well, sir?" The response was supposed to be snotty. He didn't like this kind of mission.

Baxter understood his sentiment, but wasn't about to apologize for what he had said. He gave the acting CO a dry smile. "No, stay out there…Livingston's Force Recon people may need your help. Just be sure the way is clear for us to enter…."

That meant this was more than just a sneaky poking around mission. Maybe even the whole battalion would be involved. Zeke nodded his acceptance of his orders. "Aye, aye, sir."

"Make out your orders and get your people moving to meet up with the provisional Iraqi forces, Sergeant."

"Aye sir." Fuller pulled out a large pad and begins scribbling down his platoon orders. Then he looked his assembled vehicle CO's.

"All right guys, listen up, you heard the Colonel, we've got a recon mission. We're going to be working with the Iraqis, so pay attention…."

2200? Local

Somewhere North of Mirbullah

Amir nodded to his co-worker. The young arc welder put the mask down over his face and began welding the metal plug in place. It wouldn't be perfect, but it should be good enough to repair the tank's front armor plate and provide the crew enough protection for them to carry out their mission.

Samir al-Sahood watched as the young man finished his welding job. Once the welder was done, Samir would have a fully operational platoon of tanks. By no means though, would it be a crack battle ready unit.

To spearhead the attack, Samir and his confederates had been able to acquire a combination of tanks with bulldozer blades and a couple of mine clearing tanks – these would push their way through any American minefields they might encounter.

His 'tank platoon' consisted of three repaired Romanian TR-77 main battle tanks and one still damaged Assad Babil or 'Lion of Babylon' T-72 battle tank. The Assad Babil tank, due to her battle damage, had a tendency to shed her tracks if she ran at anything higher than second gear, so she would bring up the rear, mopping up any remaining resistance.

In the face of an alert combat ready American force, this unit probably would not make it through the first minutes of battle, but he had planned for that.

The Americans he would be facing would be the demoralized survivors of his Hydrogen Cyanide attack. A chemical concoction that he and his sub-commander, Hamid Faoud al-Harib, had smuggled out of Afghanistan, across Iran and into Iraq.

This knockout punch would be delivered by the two operational MAZ-543P TELS and two Free Rocket Over Ground -7 [FROG] missile launchers that he had carefully preserved and prepared for this assault. All four would be carrying the HCN loaded missiles.

These four missile trucks were all that was left of Saddam's 223rd Operational Tactical Missile Brigade. The remaining trucks were worthless junk that he would use as decoys for the inevitable American airstrikes.

While the vaunted American aircraft bombed his decoys into oblivion, the strike force would be waiting below the floor of this special Iraqi Battalion Defensive Position. Special, because it had a self-contained underground bomb-proof 'garage' for his strike force.

And when the airstrikes were done, he would strike back with his missiles and in the chaos that would follow, his armored unit, the remnants of the 10th Brigade, 2nd al-Medinah Armored Division and 606th Brigade of the 11th Infantry Division, would avenge those killed in this so-called Global War on Terror.

He would show the Americans what a Terror War really was.

2210 Baghdad/1910 Zulu

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

Jason and Marla thought they were facing the mole in the JAG Office but it turned out Cathart was just a curious tech wanna-be. He was intrigued that someone was using spyware, trojans and key loggers to infiltrate JAG. It seemed that Seaman knew a thing or two about how the mole might have accomplished his work.

While Jason still didn't entirely trust Cathart, he did provide them with knowledge about how this infiltration was done that they didn't have before.

Marla though seemed to be friendlier to Cathart and actually seemed to be eager for his help. That made Jason wonder if Marla might be Darcy's mole. After all, she did come on board after all this started…

Jason's ponderings were put aside when Lieutenant Sims came in the computer tech room and asked for Cathart's help.

As the Seaman left with Harriet, Marla blew out a sigh of relief.

"You were worried?"

Marla nodded, relief flooding her pert features. "Cathart's too curious. I thought he might be the mole, so I played the dupe, hoping he would show his hand…. Thank God the Lieutenant came in when she did; I was running out of sparkling conversation…"

"You mean, none of what you told him was true?"

Marla Givers looked genuinely shocked and hurt. "You thought? —that I would? …Oh man, we have to find this mole and soon…before we start turning on each other…. C'mon, let's get back to the Bullpen…."

2301 Local

Camp Chesty Puller

Ashton Briggs looked over Colonel Livingston's report again. The Colonel and her black ops recon units had discovered the insurgent main base of operations north of here. She was going to lead three teams of her best troops on a parachute insertion in an agricultural area just south of the insurgent's positions. The rice and rye fields combined with date palm orchards that were interspersed in that area would be perfect cover for that type of operation.

From there they would join up with the black op units and move overland to the insurgent positions and eliminate that threat once and for all. Ashton kept telling himself to remain focused. It was July 2003, and they were in Iraq. They had been here for almost six months…. At least the pills that Darcy had given him were helping him keep on track.

He was just so tired, as soon as they finished off these Saddam goons they could join the celebrations in Baghdad. No, wait a minute…that happened back in April…. So what was today's date…?

"Sergeant?"

Jenkins stopped typing on his laptop and went into the office of the 36th MEU CO.

"Yes Colonel?"

"That was a real good dinner, wasn't it?"

"Yes sir; it was…." It was the fourth time this evening he had asked him about dinner.

"You liked that garlic sauce they used?"

That was the fourth time for that question, too.

"It was…pretty good…. The first time Jenkins had said 'it was kind of like his Mom's' Then when he asked the second time, he thought the Colonel was teasing him, so he said it was 'too greasy' to which the Colonel agreed, got out a bottle of liquid antacid, and took a healthy swig.

The third time, Jenkins thought that Briggs was testing him, so he said he thought it was 'too spicy' and was surprised when the Colonel agreed with him and took another drink from his antacid bottle.

Jenkins was worried; in less than six hours, the 36th MEU would be involved in combat operations and his CO seemed befuddled and acting as if he were rehearsing a scene for a show. Maybe it was just a nervous tic, but the Sergeant never remembered him doing anything like this before.

-TBC…


	70. Chapter 69

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 69

A/N1: Disclaimers and other vital information can be found in the story archive for …FMS which can be found in the chapter story notes.

A/N2: **~~** indicates flashback or dream sequence ( ) indicates the thoughts of a person. *~* indicates a scene shift not otherwise indicated by a JAG time stamp. ~~~ indicates a dream sequence.

A/N3: Thanks to my friend and beta Karen who is my sounding board and has helped me see this through. Kudos to AeroGirl, Mkim, Soleil, TZ, Janlaw for providing their help and technical expertise. Also thanks to Mary Ann and Lisa Griffon [Yahoo Shipper Group] for their continuing support.

2320 Local

Shark Two [Mac's Unit]

Somewhere Northwest of Mirbullah

Mac's black ops unit was making good time through the dark semi-arid countryside. In less than an hour, they would be at their Objective Rally Point and ready to neutralize al-Sahood and the rest of his unit.

Or so Mac hoped.

Kayce had, for some unknown reason, moved to the bed of the Colonel's truck and Corporal Logan had taken her place.

Mac was on her guard. Logan had been the most resistant to believing the Colonel about her true reason for being here. Whether it was Logan's generally suspicious nature or something else, Mac couldn't take a chance on her jeopardizing their operation.

She had to find out where Logan stood, once and for all.

The cab of the pickup seemed unusually quiet and claustrophobic. Even Don Burges who had been fairly quiet during the whole mission so far, found the need to talk.

"Hey Logan, how come you moved up front?"

"Got tired of riding in the back, Don. Wanted to sit up here with the Colonel for a while." She gave Mac a smile that was anything but friendly.

"Logan, Corporal Danver's *job* when she was sitting in your seat, was to keep an eye out for possible ambushes," Mac said tersely, hoping to erase that haughty smirk from her face. "Do you think you can do that for me?"

"Oh yes ma'am." The words sounded sincere, but the tone wasn't. "You have nothing to worry about."

Silence seeped back into the cab again. The clash of gears and the whine of the truck's engine was all that was heard for a few moments. Then Logan cleared her throat.

"Ma'am? Do you mind if I ask you a question?"

The Marine Light Colonel didn't like this situation, and as an officer, Mac could have put her off by saying this wasn't the time for superfluous questions, but that might backfire and endanger the tenuous vote of confidence that the unit had given her.

"Sure Corporal," Mac was sure there was unease in her voice. "Ask away."

"Why did you say you were friends with Colonel Livingston?"

Mac tried to give her a confident chuckle. "That should be obvious Corporal; I thought you and this whole unit were on her side…."

Logan returned the Light Colonel's words with a dry heartless laugh. "That's rich, ma'am; we've been working with –were working with—Lieutenant Ebbits to get *the goods* on her."

Mac was genuinely intrigued by her comment. "How long had he suspected her?"

Logan gave her a knowing smile. "Since Colonel Murphy's death. Ol' Big Ben - sorry ma'am - Colonel Murphy, he had suspected something was not right about Colonel Livingston. And when he, the Colonel, was killed, all his command staff and all the officers in the unit – except for a select few – were transferred out, or had 'accidents'…."

The story Logan was telling Mac sounded like a tale from the Stalinist era in Russia when officers who didn't pledge their allegiance to that dictator were arrested or even killed outright.

"Were these 'accidents' suspicious in nature, Corporal?"

Logan was warming to the subject. "Not at first, ma'am. Then Captain Pelletier called Lieutenant Ebbits in for 'counseling' one day. Ma'am, the Lieutenant was the best damn officer this unit ever had – for him to be called in for counseling sent a shock wave through the whole unit. It was only after the Captain was killed that the Lieutenant revealed to us what the Captain had suspected…."

"So the 'counseling' was just a ruse meant to give Pelletier a chance to talk with Lieutenant Ebbits alone?" The level of intrigue in this unit was positively Machiavellian.

"In a way, ma'am; the Lieutenant had been chafing under one of Darcy's officer picks, Captain Lutz. The guy did everything to rub the Lieutenant the wrong way; Lutz seemed to get his rocks off on doing it too, ma'am."

"Then one day the Lieutenant almost came to blows with Lutz," Don added, "the Cap'n stepped in, told the Lieutenant he'd have to counsel him over this latest incident."

So either this was a cleverly crafted tale by these two, or there was an active insurgency within Darcy's realm.

"After he came back to the unit, the Lieutenant was a different man and Lutz? Well, he got transferred…."

Mac briefly wondered where Lutz might have been transferred to. But before she could ask the question, Logan continued.

"Then one night shortly after we arrived here, Ebbits took us out on a mission to find an insurgent hideout in the area. Turned out to be the only way, the Lieutenant said, he could get us 'alone' and reveal what the Cap'n had told him."

"And what had he told the Lieutenant, Logan?"

"That Colonel Livingston was building a unit within a unit. There would be a shell of officers and enlisted who would report per the normal tables of organization and equipment, but the inner core would report only to her or one of her designated officers for 'special missions'. She told him the Global War on Terror was wrong and that she was going to put a stop to this modern day Crusade."

The words 'modern day crusade' struck the Light Colonel as sounding as if they'd come from a reporter on ZNN. But there could have been another reason for Darcy's comments.

"She's a conscientious objector?" In reality, Mac would have never guessed that with the way Darcy acted. Still, she could be one. Logan's answer surprised and chilled her.

"No ma'am; she believes that Osama bin Laden is right and that the time has come to strike back at the West." Logan paused for a moment to let this sink in. "She said 9/11 was a call to arms."

Before Mac had a chance to digest this, Logan dropped another bombshell.

"The people she transfers out of her unit are loyal only to her and believe as she does. She's had people transferred to every unit in the Corps, ma'am."

Mac could scarcely believe what she was hearing. It was worse than she and Harm had thought-this was not just one dirty recon unit – Darcy was like an Ebola virus – rapidly infecting the entire Corps. Harm had been right about her all along….

But the Corporal couldn't hear Mac's internal thoughts. "…and those who didn't measure up to Darcy's standards, well, they aren't around to discuss it."

Mac thought back to all the deaths that had occurred since they'd arrived. Now they were beginning to make sense; in a medieval sort of way.

"Then you and the rest of your team arrived to prosecute those Cobra jockeys. It sent the Colonel and her cabal into overdrive, ma'am. When it looked like you and 'Roger Ramjet'-"

Mac was struck by this odd, and seemingly derogatory, nickname for Harm. "Roger Ramjet?"

"Begging your pardon ma'am; but to be fair, we gave all of you nicknames so we could better relay to Lieutenant Ebbits what was taking place at the court martial…."

Mac idly wondered for a moment just what her nickname was, but then thought better of it. "I'm sorry, I interrupted; you were about to say…"

"…when you and Roger-I mean, Commander Rabb-had your big falling out, it looked to Darcy and her bunch like they could co-opt you. Darcy had thought about bringing the Commander into her fold… She stopped for a long moment. Mac noticed that she seemed to taking note of the Light Colonel's features. Then she nodded as if satisfied with what she found. "He does have a thing for pretty women, doesn't he?"

It was rude, insubordinate, but most importantly, to the point. For once Mac didn't slip into officer mode, though she couldn't help but look defensive and a little angry at her implication.

"He used to, for blonds," she blurted out. She noticed that Don's eyebrows were raised and that Corporal Logan looked momentarily shocked. She couldn't stop the next word from coming out of her mouth either. "Why?"

"Um, well, that's, er, that's fairly academic, ma'am. She was going to bring him to her side. The Commander is actually lucky he's up there and not down here with you. Because if he was, by now he'd either be all hers or like all the others – dead. That's why we call her Witchy Woman."

Mac remembered Logan's first words to her just before the standoff. 'You know the words to Witchy Woman, don't you ma'am?'

She did. Mac had never thought such innocent sounding lyrics could take on so sinister an overtone.

Jenny Shepard had her service pistol out and on safety as she ran down the darkened street. As the senior NCIS liaison to Mossad in Lebanon, Jen been detailed to find out what they could about Samir al-Sahood's Lebanese connections. When she had heard that JAG Corps Headquarters had been attacked, she knew that Leroy Jethro Gibbs would be right in the thick of it. That's just the kind of person Gibbs was. He didn't wait around for official orders. Kind of like her.

It had been Ziva David, her Mossad contact, who had suggested they talk to a Colonel in the Lebanese Army who had certain connections. They found the Colonel beheaded, sitting at his desk. Ziva had spotted someone leaving the building in a hurry, so they took off in pursuit.

Several shots fired in their general direction assured them that this person wasn't just late for a meeting. He or she had panicked and was now trying desperately to get away from Ziva and Jenny.

Ziva's lithe athletic strides had her slightly ahead of Jenny. Two more shots rang out, sending Officer David diving for the cover of a parked Toyota sedan. Jenny quickly joined her squatting behind the car.

Ziva's eyes were shining with excitement. "It's as you Americans say, 'black as blight', yes?"

Jenny gave her a wry grin. "That's 'black as night', Ziva, and I can't see him…or them…either, for that matter. Should we try to take them?"

That was a silly question to ask Mossad Agent Ziva David.

"Yes. I think we should use these parked cars as cover so we can get closer to where they are…."

Before Ziva could finish her sentence, Jenny Shepard leapt from their hiding place and headed toward the last position of their killer.

There was an idling panel van sitting several car lengths ahead of them. Jenny listened as hurried footsteps made their way to the van. The door opened, and someone got in.

Ziva was right behind Jenny as they stealthily made their way down the side of the parked cars toward the source of the gunfire. No other shots rang out in response to their movement.

In the back of Jenny's mind she couldn't help but recite Gibbs' rules. Something about all this, as Gibbs would say, was 'hinky'. Why was the van still idling – why hadn't it moved away?

Jenny also missed the feel of her heavier Beretta 92F, but this Glock allowed her more carrying options. Plus, it had the same punch of her old pistol. If she ever got the chance, she'd have to tell Director Morrow that all agents should be using a Glock.

"You go left, I'll go right…" whispered Jenny.

The NCIS Agent started to move, but just as she did the Israeli Special Agent grabbed her and shoved her down hard. Jenny was about to say something to her when the night turned into momentary daylight as the van blew apart.

As parts of the van continued to rain down all around them, Ziva hastily examined her partner. "Are you all right, Jenny!"

"I'm fine," grumbled Jennifer Shepard, urging Ziva to get off her. But she was irritated that their only lead in this case was now in pieces scattered up and down the street.

Using their Night Vision Goggles (NVGs) to navigate their vehicles, Commander May's SEAL Team kept a considerable distance back from Colonel Livingston's Black Ops unit.

"Don't get too close, Petty Officer." warned the Commander.

The goggles may have hidden Petty Officer Vickers' eyes but not his wry smirk.

"Not a chance, sir. I'm like their night shadow."

MCPO Coskill's snort could be heard from the back seat. "Just make sure *the shadow* doesn't accidentally bump into them, Vickers."

"Aye sir."

Ashton Briggs put the finishing touches on his 'pep talk' to his Marines. By now his attached LAV unit would be scouting the enemy positions and his unit would soon get underway for the assault on the insurgent positions (…in Mirbullah…no…no, north of there. C'mon Briggs, what's wrong with you?)

The 36th MEU CO grabbed the bottle of pills Darcy had given him. (Maybe I'll take a few more of these…)

The knock at his door was not unexpected. Probably it was the junior officers on his staff with some last minute concern.

Briggs stood. "Come."

The door opened and a woman in a Polish army uniform came into the room.

"Sorry to bother you this late in your operation, Colonel."

Briggs didn't have the foggiest notion who this woman was, but he was a good bluffer. "You're too late for that; you're already in the door. What do you need, Colonel?"

Luisa Baranova was mildly surprised that Ashton Briggs didn't seem to recognize who she was. True, they had only met in passing when she first came to Iraq shortly after the collapse of Saddam's government, but she didn't think she had made that little of an impression.

"I'll come right to the point, Colonel," she said briskly. "My GROM commandos can rendezvous with your Force Recon units and help them locate the insurgents. They are trained to deal with any contingency that might arise."

Ashton sighed heavily. The last thing he needed was some allied officer with a chip on his/her shoulder trying to muscle in on his operation. "Look…Colonel…I…the United States Marine Corps appreciates Poland's generous offer, but we have this situation under control…."

Luisa fought hard not to blow apart at the seams. This empty political posturing would get them nowhere. Lieutenant Colonel Baxter had been more appreciative of her offer. She exhaled and silently counted to ten before continuing to press her argument.

"Respectfully, sir; my country lent invaluable assistance to the Americans during the initial phase of Operation Iraqi Freedom and we are very willing to continue to do so now. We will not, in any way, interfere with your operation. We want to help."

It was very diplomatic and an overture that could hardly be turned down. But Ashton Briggs had made up his mind – this was going to be a Marine only operation. With some Navy help.

No 'Coalition of the Willing' would be involved in what he believed to be a private matter between his Marines and the insurgents.

"Colonel, I really appreciate your willingness to offer your special operation troops, but I assure you, my Force Recon people can take care of this. Even as we speak, they are infiltrating Samir al-Sahood's stronghold north of here."

Luisa had heard of Lieutenant Colonel Darcy Livingston. She was well known in the international Special Operations community for her daring exploits and her unit's elan. But there were also rumors…disturbing rumors about her actions and her motivation. The current rumor was that United States Navy's Wojskiowe Biuro Ledcze…JAG Corps for short, was clandestinely investigating her with regards to her involvement in the terrorist attack on the JAG CO's Headquarters in Washington, DC. As fantastic as the accusation sounded, more and more indicators were pointing to her possible participation. Was Colonel Briggs just turning a blind eye to what was going on?

Maybe he still trusted her.

Maybe it was pride.

Or maybe it was something else.

The Polish contingent commander decided whatever the reason was it was best not to be so overt in her offer to help, she'd try a different tack.

"We'll have al-Sahood in custody before sundown tonight," Briggs said confidently and with a hint of a swagger.

She smiled. Luisa had always liked an officer who was proud of his unit and regarded it as family. "Well, there must be something we can do to help…I heard that your gunship unit is grounded pending a formal review. I could offer my gunship sect-"

Ashton Briggs gave her a slight smile, but shook his head. "Our aviation combat element is more than capable of handling whatever we run into. But, again, thank you for the offer."

Luisa was not done yet. "We could temporarily take over policing duties here in Mirbullah, leaving the full force of your Expeditionary Unit free to participate-"

Again Briggs cut her off, but this time it was done more forcefully. "We don't need our entire unit to be involved. Our reserve company can maintain security operations here-"

This time, Luisa cut him off. "At least let us provide some support to your units. I talked to your Colonel Baxter about-"

This time Briggs exploded. "This is a simple insurgent clearing operation, Colonel, similar to ones going on all across Iraq as we speak! I don't want to go in there and start World War Three!"

Luisa was shocked into silence. They both stood there silently regarding each other for a few long, tense moments. Then Ashton seemed to realize that he had over-reacted.

"Look Colonel, I appreciate your wanting to help, but I simply can't have you along, there are too many risks," he said evasively. "Politically and militarily, it's just not a good idea."

Luisa Baranova gazed at the 36th MEU's CO as if he had lost his mind. Then she smiled and nodded. "Okay, Colonel, I understand. But please do keep this in mind; if al-Sahood's men are as deeply entrenched as I think they are, you'll need more than us to help you dig them out!" The last bit almost came out as a snarl.

Ashton Briggs was done talking with Colonel Baranova. "As I said, Colonel, I believe we can handle this. I'm sure you can find your way out."

And with that cold dismissal, Ashton sat down, put on his reading glasses and began going through the papers that were stacked neatly on his blotter.

"Thank you for your time, Colonel Briggs," she turned smartly and exited his office, fighting the urge to shut his door with a resounding bang.

Sergeant Jenkins and Capitan Chirdorz stopped their conversation as the Polish officer got to his feet.

Despite her anger, Luisa managed a smile, and motioned to her aide that there wasn't a need for him to come to attention. Jenkins though, still came to attention and saluted.

"Did the meeting go well ma'am?"

Colonel Baranova gave Briggs' aide a weak half smile. "I'm afraid your Colonel is concerned our involvement might start a third world war."

Sergeant Jenkins didn't know what to say.

Stanislaus Chidorz tried to hide his shock at her statement.

As they started to leave the Polish Colonel muttered loud enough for Sergeant Jenkins to overhear her. "Who says World War Three hasn't already started?"

0210 Baghdad/2310 Zulu

1810 Local

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

JAG HQ OPS was quiet. Most of the staff had secured their stations and left for the evening. One or two offices were still lit, but for the most part, it was quiet. The main hallway lights were only half off, but all the overhead lights in the Bullpen area had been extinguished.

Tiner sat in early the evening gloom at his computer. The sun would not set for another couple of hours or so, but sunlight that would have been shining into his office was blocked by the solid wood door that lead to Admiral Chegwidden's office. Like most of the other offices, his overhead lights were off, but he did this because it would allow him to better see the program he was running.

He, Jen, Marla and Lieutenant Sims had managed to find and isolate four computers in the JAG Corps network that contained trojan and keylogger programs. Each of these machines were originals that had survived the attack on JAG Headquarters unscathed.

He had Corporal Gillis and Seaman Cathart help him take those workstations offline, citing connectivity testing for a new server. A surreptitious check by Lieutenant Sims verified none of the people using these machines, neither Chief Petty Officer Franchine, Sergeant Buswell, Seaman Brooks, nor Lieutenant Perez were the person they were looking for. Their workstations though, were key entry points into the JAG Corps servers.

Coates and Givers found most of the listening devices that had been placed at other key workstations. They noted where they were and gave that list to Tiner. He then reported to the Admiral what they had found.

After discussing their options with Admiral Chegwidden, they determined the best way to

flush out the mole would be to disable the spyware on the four workstations in such a way, that the person or persons would have to come into JAG Corps Headquarters and find out what had happened to his spyware. AJ charged Tiner with staying after hours to find out who would try access the machines.

Tiner knew the mole would probably try to access the stations remotely first, and if that failed, then he or she would make a personal visit.

Tiner made sure the workstations could not be accessed remotely. He used a program he had borrowed from PO3 Helms, a friend of his who worked at NCIS, to block remote access to the machines. The program also tracked when someone was trying to directly access the workstations.

Now he sat in the semi-gloom, intently watching the program monitoring the four workstations. Besides the usual network traffic, someone had tried repeatedly to access those workstations about an hour ago.

Then about five minutes ago, they had tried again. After several minutes, the activity ceased. Jason knew the next logical step was for the mole to come in and check out the workstations in person.

"Hey Tiner!"

Jason Tiner started, but kept himself from yelling out in surprise. He whipped his head around to see Jennifer Coates standing next to him looking at his screen.

"Coates? What are you doing here?" He snapped, trying to hide the scare she had put into him.

"I thought you might be able to use some help," she said suppressing a grin, then her expression changed. "Is this the program that Vaughn told you he would let you borrow?"

Jason didn't know whether to cover the screen with his hands or just let her see what he found. He decided on the latter. "Yeah, I'm monitoring those four workstations I told you about."

Jennifer pulled up a chair and sat down next to him. "Any activity?"

She was so close Jason could tell she had put on some perfume despite still being in uniform. He struggled to keep his mind on the task at hand. "Uh, not in the last few minutes."

"When was the last time they tried to access the machines?"

"The last burst of activity was about five minutes ago."

"What do you think their next move will be?

"I think their next move is to come up here, in person, and see why they can't access 'their' machines."

Suddenly the program chirped.

"Do you think-"

Jason nodded, cutting off the rest of her comment. "Yeah, someone's still trying to access one of the machines…."

"Whose machine?"

"Lieutenant Perez's. C'mon…."

"Shouldn't we alert security?"

"No, not yet, we have to catch them in the act…."

Jason and Jennifer made their way through the silent JAG OPS bullpen and to the attorney offices on the left hand side of the building.

"What are we going to do when we catch them? We don't have any weapons, they're in the armory."

Tiner couldn't fault her logic. "Good point." "I'll stay here and keep an eye on them. You go to the duty desk and get security."

"Okay, but be careful, all right?"

"Uh, sure; I'll be fine, go…"

Jennifer gave him one last look as she stole back down the hallway to the elevator. Jason, in the meantime, moved slowly and quietly through the sunset lit hallway.

Lieutenant Oscar Perez was on temporary loan from the Army Judge Advocate General's office.

He was currently using office 209. It belonged to Lieutenant Porter, who was on maternity leave.

Tiner passed Lieutenant Bernard's office and the bathrooms. He was about to pass the offices of Lieutenant Vansen and Ensign Pertsch when he felt there was someone behind him. He knew it couldn't be Jen. He readied himself for a fight.

"Easy Tiner, it's just me." Said a hushed female voice.

Jason inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. "Sergeant, what are you doing here?" he hissed as he moved her back down the hall toward the bathrooms so whoever was in Perez/Porter's office wouldn't hear them.

"I passed Coates on her way to the security desk; she told me you were up here. I came to back you up."

Tiner looked for her pistol holster. "Are you armed?"

"No, but I am a Marine. Did you want to try and take them?"

In all likelihood Marla could take whoever it was in that office, but she probably would also get hurt in the process. "No, no…just make sure that they don't leave…."

"All right," she sounded disappointed.

They moved back down toward Porter/Perez's room. From inside they could hear shuffling and an occasional bump.

"Is it possible that Lieutenant Perez is still here?" She asked.

Jason shook his head. "No, he left on travel this afternoon…JAGMAN case in Washington State…."

"I can't find anything wrong with it..." they heard come from the room

The second voice was more gruff and insistent. "Well, look again; something's blocking our access…."

"Look; all the connections are plugged in…see?"

"All right; then it has to be software based…turn her on and use that software kit of yours…"

"Now you're talkin…"

"I still don't see why we couldn't do this from your office…"

"Has to do with the type of software block. I have to fix it while I'm physically at the machine…"

"Well, just hurry up; the guard will be making his rounds soon…"

"Relax; we got at least twenty more minutes…that's plenty of time…."

So there were at least two people in Perez's office. Jason didn't recognize either voice. Worse yet, he and Marla didn't know whether or not they were armed.

Alan Mattoni was calling it a night. He had one plea bargain in the morning, but then that was it; he'd finally cleared through the backlog of cases that resulted from the attack on JAG Corps Headquarters. Sighing, he rose from his chair and began packing folders into his attaché case. He made a mental note to check with Commander Burford before he left. Alan wanted to see if there was anything else the John could add to their notes on this case.

After he secured his station, he gathered his coat and his cover, and headed for the door. As expected, there was John Burford waiting for him. Despite his injuries from the attack, he was back on the job.

Alan nodded. "John,"

Commander Burford returned his nod. "Evening sir,"

"I take it you have something you want to add to the Sergeant James plea bargain case?"

"Yes sir, Commander, we can talk about it on the way out…."

Alan turned and locked his door, then motioned for John to go ahead of him. He caught up with the junior officer as they headed through the glass double doors of the quiet Bullpen.

"You see, sir, I don't think-"

He noticed that Commander Mattoni was looking down the hallway toward the attorney and staff offices.

"What the devil is going on down there?" Mattoni said more to himself than to John.

John turned to see Petty Officer Tiner and Sergeant Givers standing in the hallway, looking as if they were listening to something.

Not wanting to startle them, the two JAG Corps attorneys quietly walked down to where they were.

Jason and Marla turned to see Commander Burford and Commander Mattoni approaching them. Both had puzzled looks on their faces.

The Petty Officer and the Marine Sergeant moved back up the hall toward the two attorneys.

"Tiner? What's going on?" asked the senior Naval officer.

"There's someone…make that two someones, sir, in Lieutenant Perez's office," Marla responded.

"Who?" John felt apprehension rising in him.

"We don't know, sir," Jason answered, "but they came here after someone unsuccessfully tried to breach Lieutenant Perez's computer's firewall remotely."

Alan didn't usually carry his service pistol with him, but since the attack, he had decided that maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to do so. John had obviously felt the same way since he also produced his.

The four moved cautiously back down the hall to the Lieutenant Perez's office where more noise could now be heard through the door.

"Okay, let's get outta here," said the gruff voice.

Marla and John quickly scooted to the opposite side of the office door. As it opened, Marla yanked with all her might on the arm of the first person that appeared and slammed him against the opposite wall, pinning his other arm against his back. The bigger man started struggling until he saw the Naval Commander had his side-arm out and aimed at him.

A second face appeared at the office doorway. "Hey! What th-"

Before he could say anything else, Jason punched the second person as hard as he could in the solar plexus. A whoosh of air left him that ended in an 'ugh' as he doubled over, dropping a small zippered bag.

As Jason pulled him upright, Alan had his service pistol trained on the second man. "Don't move…"

"Jason!"

The Petty Officer turned to see Jennifer Coates, flanked by two heavily armed Marine guards, quickly coming down the hall.

"Commander Mattoni?" said one of the guards keeping his weapon trained on the group.

Alan and John pulled out their wallets and flipped them open to show their JAG Corps IDs.

Jason and Marla did likewise. "These two were trespassing in Lieutenant Perez's office," Jason explained as he also produced the zippered bag "And they're guilty of espionage."

0200; in the civilian world, most folks, with the exception of those working the graveyard shift, would be asleep. For the 36th Marine Expeditionary Unit, 0200 would normally be a time of rest as well – except they were at war. Brigg's Fragmentary Order [FRAGO] sent out before midnight meant there would be no rest today. All across the camp engines were being started, and vehicles of every size and shape were rumbling through the camp.

Under the eerie glare of flood lamps, the MEU was assembling its armored punch known as GATORFORCE.

"Let's go! Let's go! Either climb in or climb aboard!" Barked a burly Sergeant to a squad of Marines wearing flak jackets and extra bandoliers of ammunition. They quickly helped each other on top of the vibrating amphibious assault vehicle.

The AAV was one of a line of fifteen rumbling, snorting, armored behemoths sitting on the main supply route running through the camp. Right next to them, were fifteen more AMTRACs, borrowed from another MEU specifically for this assault. As they idled, Hum-vees zipped back and forth between the armored giants, ferrying supplies and additional Marines to the assembled group.

Amidst all this noise and confusion, three Marines stood by an AMTRAC which was separated from the rest of the armored group. They did not seem in a hurry like the other Marines, in fact they seemed to be taking their time getting ready.

A closer inspection revealed it was actually NCIS Special Agent Gibbs, who was helping Tony DiNozzo and Faith Coleman get the last of their body armor in place. With Tony it was more telling him what he had done wrong. With Commander Coleman, it was more of not so gentle tugs here and there to make sure the Kevlar vest and pads were properly seated.

"Haven't you ever been in the field before, Commander?" Tony quipped while grinning. "I thought all of Admiral Chegwidden's attorneys had combat experience."

"My first duty station was North Island, DiNozzo; I haven't been assigned to a combat duty station yet." She looked decidedly uncomfortable in her Marine uniform and Kevlar helmet.

"You're all set to go, Commander," Gibbs said to Faith, and then gave her that wry smile of his, "Did I ever tell you about Tony's first combat experience-

Tony's smirk vanished. "Hey Boss, look at the time; we'd better get on board before we get left behind…"

Faith turned away from Tony and gave Gibbs a wicked smile. "I'd better get to my carrier."

Gibbs nodded, "Tony's right about one thing; they will leave us behind."

Faith gave the silver haired NCIS Agent a small smile and then headed for her AMTRAC.

"Boss, you weren't really going to tell her about my first time in combat, were you?"

Gibbs threw his senior field agent an annoyed look. "Well yeah, DiNozzo, I was if you didn't stop harassing her...c'mon, we gotta get aboard our AMTRAC."

The back door panel was still in the locked open position as the two NCIS Agents hustled over to the idling carrier.

A clean cut Sergeant met them at the door's edge. "Special Agent Gibbs?" Gibbs nodded. "I'm Sergeant Canella from the military police detachment assigned to Task Force Tarawa. Brigadier General Thornton assigned us to you and your team." He led them inside "Watch your step, gentlemen."

The two NCIS Agents settled into their sparsely padded seats inside the rumbling carrier.

Tony was like an excited kid. On either side of him, Sergeant Canella's team members were checking their rifles and in their own way preparing for combat. Tony looked over at Gibbs who seemed to be meditating as well. "Wow Boss, does being here bring back some memories?"

Gibbs fingered his M-16 rifle. "Yeah Tony, unpleasant ones,"

-TBC…


	71. Chapter 70

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 70

A/N1- The previous chapter is right above this one

Gibbs has just finished razzing DiNozzo for giving Faith

Coleman a bad time (Gibbs often does this as they have

pseudo father/son, master/teacher, older brother/younger

brother relationship.) If you've seen NCIS, you know what

I mean. Now, so I don't spoil anything [my muse was very

reluctant to release] no more spoilers - you're on your

own from here.

A/N2 - This is a basically a minimally edited post, so all

glitches found are strictly my own. Ignore those and enjoy

the story.

Battalion Assembly Area

Camp Chesty Puller

On board another AMTRAC, Judge Advocate Division (JAD) Officers Barnett and Johnson settled into their seats closest to 2nd Lieutenant Donald Bice, the military police detachment leader.

"Glad to have you aboard, sirs," Bice's AMTRAC driver said, turning in his seat to face the three Marine officers. The name on his uniform name tag read 'Marcus'

"You ready for this, Sergeant?" asked Major Barnett.

Sergeant Marcus gave the Major a big grin. "Aye sir; we missed out on the party in Baghdad 'cause we got stuck here after Lieutenant Dodge was killed. We've been marking time since March, and would like to get out there and get our feet wet again, if you know what I mean…."

"I think we do, Sergeant." Captain Johnson said in reply. He looked over at Bice. "How about you, Lieutenant?"

"As ready as I'll ever be Captain," he answered. "How do we spot our suspects?"

"We, uh, have a man in the field," Barnett said hesitantly. "He, rather she, will lead us to them."

Bice was confused by the sudden gender switch. "She, sir?"

"She's a *Colonel* in the JAG Corps, Lieutenant," Johnson countered "Undercover."

Bice looked mildly surprised. "Aye sir." As soon the response was out of his mouth, Captain Johnson's revelation lead to more questions from Bice.

"We're working with JAG as well as NCIS? This must be big. Is this related to the attack on JAG Corps Headquarters?"

"It is, Lieutenant," Barnett said tersely. The Lieutenant's questions came off as sounding a little too eager for his tastes.

Seeing that the Major seemed to be annoyed, the Lieutenant directed his next question to Johnson.

"Begging your pardon, sir, so how did you get here? In JAD, I mean…"

Johnson gave him an understanding smile. "How did I get here? Well, I was part of a radio recon unit; we were supposed to come ashore on Zodiacs – a training mission…ours turned turtle…the Sergeant said it was my fault. I had this young JAD Lieutenant fresh out of Naval Justice School. Thought I was sunk, but she fought like a tiger and got me involved and we got the Coxswain to confess; he had hoped to drown the Sergeant. After I was cleared, my unit CO agreed to support my application to law school.

Bice looked at Major Barnett, not sure whether he could ask the same question of him at the moment.

Vince though, had put his irritation with the Lieutenant aside. It was replaced by an interest as to why this man wanted to know about their pasts. Maybe answering his question would get him the answer he was seeking.

"My LAV unit was part of Task Force Papa Bear; I lost my truck in a Republican Guard attack. I would have lost my commission, except for this JAD Skipper, he was kinda like you, Floyd. Anyway, he stuck with me, backed me up all the way…made me believe in myself again. After I was cleared, I asked for a change in designator and applied to law school."

Floyd Johnson didn't think he'd ever heard a compliment like that one from Vince before. Maybe he thought the Lieutenant wanted to be a JAD…

Their little session was interrupted by the sudden jarring movement of the AMTRAC being put into gear.

Mac's Unit – Shark Two

Somewhere north of Mirbullah

Mac's unit moved into some low hills and parked.

The Light Colonel re-checked her map with her hooded flashlight as Burges and Logan looked on.

"We're close enough to the drop zone." Mac turned around and looked in the back of the pickup. "Staff Sergeant…."

Dallas nodded. "I'm on it, Colonel; okay Marines, break time is over! Let's find out what the LZ looks like….

As Dallas lead his fire team toward the proposed drop zone area, Victor Galindez and Staff Sergeant Reynolds made their way over to her truck. Mac was now outside the vehicle and had her map spread out on the hood of the pickup truck.

"Colonel; Reynolds wants to take a team and scout out a secondary drop zone…"

Leonard Reynolds was quick to reinforce the request. "Sort of an alternative if you will, ma'am, in case the first one doesn't pan out."

Mac knew this might be a cover for something else, but she had to risk it because he just might inadvertently reveal what he was really up to. She nodded absently as she pretended to pore over her map. "Take with you whoever you need…." She said in a blasé voice

"Aye ma'am," He turned back to Willet's and Williams' trucks and barked in a loud whisper while motioning with his hand. "Stallings! Witt! Peters! Bullard! Let's go!" The four Marines stopped what they were doing and hustled away from the two pickups. They joined the Staff Sergeant as he headed off in the opposite direction from Dallas' team.

As soon as they were out of probable hearing range, Victor leaned close to Mac. "Did you notice Reynolds picked Sergeant Witt?"

Mac nodded. "I did. I also noticed that the other men he picked are not in his strict chain of command."

Victor nodded. "True, but that could just be because we were switching groups between the trucks."

"Except that Reynolds didn't ride with either Witt or Bullard at all tonight." The Light Colonel pointed out.

Victor looked off in the direction Reynolds and his bunch was headed. "You want me to go and check up on them?"

Mac watched as they disappeared over the horizon. "If you think it won't arouse their suspicion."

Victor gave her a warm, albeit slightly cocky smile. "Trust me, Colonel, the 'Master Guns' would want to know if they made contact with Darcy and what she wanted them to do next…."

"Okay, 'Master Guns'" Mac said with a slight smile, but then she turned serious, "but watch your six, Gunny."

Victor knew that slip could get them both killed. But it also underlined how concerned Mac was. The last time they did anything like this was when they were working with Webb in the Chaco Boreal. And they both remembered how well that turned out.

"Yes ma'am." he said soberly as he nodded his acceptance of her recommendation.

As Victor hurried to catch up with Reynolds' team, Kayce and Lance Corporal Logan walked over to where Mac was standing.

Kayce turned and watched as Victor trotted off to catch up with Reynolds. "If you don't mind me asking, ma'am, where is the Master Guns off to?"

"I gave him some additional information to relay to Staff Sergeant Reynolds," She paused and noticed that the two women seemed to have something else on their mind.

Logan looked at Kayce and then Kayce looked back at her.

(Well, somebody better break the ice on this one…) Mac thought, (it's killing them trying to figure out who's going to bring this up first….)

"Ladies, spit it out before it chokes you…" Mac said quietly.

"Uh, ma'am, we didn't mean, that is, Corporal Logan, she didn't mean to worry you about Commander Rabb…."

"I'm not worried about the Commander," Mac lied, "he can take good care of himself…."

"Um, yes ma'am we know that," It was obvious that Kayce didn't believe a word of what she was trying to pass off.

The Marine JAG attorney decided to press the ladies on just what they knew about Livingston.

In her earlier conversation with them, Corporal Logan had let it slip that any man who crossed Darcy's path either joined her or died. All of them were here, at this moment in time, because of the death of Lieutenant Dodge. Could it be? She had to know.

"Logan, you said earlier that any man Colonel Livingston wanted, either became hers or ended up dead, right?"

Logan nodded. "Check ma'am; that's why we nicknamed her WW; you know, witchy woman."

"Or BW; that is, black widow," added Kayce.

Mac pressed her question like she was cross-examining a witness. "Danvers, did Lieutenant Dodge have an interest in Colonel Livingston?"

Both ladies looked at each other and then back at the Light Colonel. Logan spoke up first. "You mean did he have a thing for the Colonel?"

Mac nodded. Logan's comment was crudely put, but it was the question Mac was asking.

Logan shook her head. "There you go about Dodge again," She turned to Kayce. "Man, why is she so hung up on Dodge?"

Before Kayce could answer, Logan fired her own question at Mac. "Ma'am, why are you so interested in that dirt sailor? What was he to you besides a case? An ex-lover or something?"

Logan's abruptness silenced Mac for a moment. Kayce looked as if she wanted to be swallowed by the ground.

It suddenly dawned on Logan what had popped out of her mouth.

Mac waved her hand dismissively at her before she could say anything. "First of all, he was not a Seebee, he was a combat engineer."

The Lance Corporal regained some her ground when she saw that Mac wasn't going to castigate her for her offhand comment. "That's the same difference in my book Colonel-"

But Mac wasn't going to let her do that again.

"Second, Lance Corporal, it may have everything to do with why those 'Cobra jockeys' as you so eloquently called them earlier, were framed for his murder. Especially, if Dodge had spurned her invitation and that gunship crew had somehow been involved as well."

"Oh man," Logan looked as if she was close to giving herself a head slap. She turned to Kayce. "Why didn't we think of this? Dammit, it all makes sense now…that bwitch had Dodge killed because he wouldn't join her little cabal…"

"If she can't have him, then no one can have him…." Kayce gravely added, agreeing with Lance Corporal Logan's comment. "She is cold blooded."

For the first time, Logan seemed to be looking to Mac for direction. "So what about those Cobra jockeys, ma'am, did they cross her up too?"

Mac shook her head. "There's no way to know at the moment, Corporal, but, if what you say about her is true-"

Logan quickly affirmed her worst fears. "It is ma'am-"

"-then we're all in danger." Kayce said in stunned realization. For the first time, Mac truly believed that Kayce Danvers really knew nothing about Colonel Livingston's actual plans and that she wasn't a spy for her.

Logan looked at her friend and Colonel MacKenzie confusion filling her features. "How?" Logan asked Kayce. When she didn't get an immediate answer, she tried to reassure Mac. "Colonel, you're among friends. Any of Darcy's bunch would have killed us by now…."

But the Light Colonel had a sobering thought for her. "…or they're waiting for the right opportunity, Logan."

36th MEU ACE Airfield

Three KC-130 transports sat on the ACE's tarmac, rumbling in the post-midnight gloom. The last of Darcy's Recon Marines got settled in their seats. A burly Staff Sergeant made his way to the cockpit and stuck his head in.

"We're good to go, Lieutenant." He gave the two men a 'thumbs up' and headed back to the rest of the stick in the bowels of the plane.

"I don't like that guy," the co-pilot grumbled as he went through his pre-flight checklist.

"They'll be out of here soon enough," Lieutenant Basilone said evenly as he fed the engines more power and began to move the plane forward. He did his best to seem unconcerned about his co-pilot's worries. He had to. Knowing what he did made it hard not to panic with Colonel Livingston and who knows how many traitors on board this plane.

Gill knew he had to let someone in the investigation teams know what was going on. He had written down everything he had heard and remembered, but he had not had a chance to contact them before it was time to get prepped for this paradrop operation.

The notes he had made were folded over and stuffed in the pocket of his flight jacket. He had to find a way to get them to those JAG attorneys or the NCIS Agents. Even if it meant that Colonel Livingston found out what he was doing and killed him. He had to risk it.

Like a man stepping off a cliff, Gill opened his side window. "Sergeant!"

One of the ground crew hustled over to the Lieutenant's plane.

"Yes sir!" he yelled above the roar of the KC-130's four throbbing Allison engines.

"Here, take this to Special Agent Gibbs!" Gill tossed the folded packet toward the Sergeant.

He picked it up before it had the chance to blow away. The Sergeant looked at packet for a moment and then back up at the Lieutenant.

"Gibbs sir?"

"Yeah! The NCIS Agent from Washington! He's probably with GATORFORCE getting ready to move out! Get that over to him ASAP!"

The Sergeant understood. You didn't argue with a Lieutenant. "Aye, aye, sir!" He quickly ran over to a HMMWV sitting just off the tarmac.

"Hey Gill, what was that all about?" Asked his co-pilot nonchalantly as the HMMWV took off in the direction of Colonel Briggs' GATORFORCE formation.

Gill Basilone just shook his head trying to seem bored by the whole thing. "Oh, those were just some written statements those NCIS agents had asked me for earlier…"

That seemed to satisfy his co-pilot. Gill hoped that the Sergeant got that note to Special Agent Gibbs. Time was running out, it probably already had for him, but at least he could keep anyone else from getting killed. He had one more ace up his sleeve.

Leonard Reynolds gathered his 'team' together to discuss what they needed to do in preparation for Darcy's arrival.

Sergeant Witt sneered. "Len, how long are we going to have to listen to this skirt? I didn't sign on to this mission to follow the lead of one of Darcy's pet officers – especially a lush like her."

Staff Sergeant Reynolds gave Forward Observer Frank Witt an ominous smile. "Frank, you should know that Colonel Livingston would smile about that comment and then put a bullet in your brain without batting an eyelash about it. Don't you remember what happened to Grearson and Colwell when they complained too much?"

Nathan Peters sought to soften Witt's acidic comments. "Len, I'm sure Frank is just frustrated; face it, man, we're *all* frustrated…and that lady JAG hasn't helped things…."

Leonard nodded his head in understanding. "I know, Nate, I know. But this is Darcy's call – all you guys, just be sure that your MOPP equipment and mask are okay-"

Tim Bullard, known more for his hot temper than anything else, threw his mask to the ground. "—my MOPP equipment is just fine, Leon! You just keep those BAMs' and the dark green Marines outta my way-!"

Nathan's eyes narrowed, "What the hell did you just say, pale green Marine?"

Jim Stallings looked over at Nathan. "C'mon Nate, you know he didn't mean it-"

But Nathan savagely cut him off. "Keep outta this, bookworm; this is between me and pretty boy, here."

Tim gave Nathan a condescending smile. "Let's go, Nate. C'mon big man, I've been waiting for this for a long time-"

Reynolds was about to intervene between the two when a harsh voice stilled all of them.

"Reynolds! What the hell is going on here?"

Leonard and the others froze. Victor Galindez aka Master Gunnery Sergeant Hector 'Cesar' Bustamante was silhouetted against the night sky. No one moved.

Then Leonard stood up. "Master Guns! We, uh, we were just letting Colonel Livingston know our position-"

Victor eyed the group. It was obvious that they were just about to tear into themselves. All that came to an abrupt halt when he showed up. Galindez really hoped that this was all of Darcy's cohorts in this unit, but there was no real way to know. Neutralizing these guys might be the best he could hope for.

Victor's stern look was replaced by a most satanic smile. "Good; it's about time you did something right, Len. What did she say?"

The group seemed to forget their current tensions. Now they were once again focused on their mission. The one that was the real reason they were here in the first place.

That greasy smile of Reynolds returned. "Their aircraft just left the airfield, Master Guns, they're on their way."

"Okay then," replied Victor, "If you are done here, let's get back to MacKenzie and the rest of the unit…."

As they headed back toward the rest of Shark Two, Victor grabbed Tim and yanked him close enough to whisper in his ear. "If you ever try to start a race war in this unit again, I'll personally make sure your eviscerated carcass is a meal for the vultures, you get me?"

Tim Bullard gave Victor Galindez an innocent smile. "You're the boss, Master Guns…for now."

Victor roughly shoved Bullard away from him and back towards Shark Two's positions.

SEAL Team 'Rat Patrol'

Commander May lowered his binoculars. "Okay guys, look alive; this is it. This is the drop zone for the rest of Colonel Livingston's troops."

Brad May's SEAL team silently spread out headed toward Shark Two's position.

Darrell Coskill settled in next to best friend and CO. "How do you know, Commander?"

Brad pointed at Shark Two's current position. "The way they have themselves arranged out there, Master Chief. Let's hope that Colonel Livingston and her Marines land soon so we can find out what they are up to."

The Master Chief gave his CO a wry smile. "I take it the Commander doesn't believe that the Colonel is on a recon mission."

Brad snorted. "Oh, she's on a recon mission all right…for the insurgents. Now keep your eyes peeled for those KC-130s; they should be here at any time…."

As the SEAL Team waited in the darkness for the tale-tell signs of approaching aircraft motorized engines of another kind made their presence known.

A burst of static erupted from Commander May's radio. "Commander! I have an Iraqi Army APC! 2,000 meters and closing!" It was Petty Officer 1st class Wade Seibert.

Coskill clicked the send button on his radio. "Provisional Iraqi Army?"

Another burst of static. "No Master Chief; it has Republican Guard markings!"

"One of the ones that missed the Provisional Government's inventory sheet," grumbled Darrell,

as he clicked his radio button. "Seibert! Shark Two, do they see it?"

There was what seemed like a long stretch of silence. The Commander and the Master Chief exchanged anxious glances. Maybe the APC had seen the Petty Officer.

Commander May clicked his radio button. "Talk to me, Petty Officer…."

A contrite Petty Officer 1st class responded. "Sorry Commander. "Uh, no sir, they — wait a minute…they just spotted it, Commander."

"Now we'll see which side Colonel MacKenzie's team is on," Coskill said as he and the Commander turned their binoculars toward the APC approaching Shark Two.

"If my hunch is right, Master Chief," Brad said as he raised his binoculars again "We'll see her welcome that APC with open arms..."

Camp Chesty Puller

Gibbs' AMTRAC slewed to a jarring stop.

"What are we stopping for?" Sergeant Canella asked the driver.

"Probably for one of those media types to climb aboard," grunted one of MPs.

That comment earned a few disgusted chuckles and a general shaking of heads.

"Man I hate those infesting media types…" said another MP under his breath

A Corporal sitting next to him mumbled. "You mean 'embedded media,' don't ya?"

The MP gave him a cynical grin. "You call'em what you want, I'll call'em what I want…."

The AMTRAC vehicle commander, Sergeant Damato, leaned down into the passenger compartment and squinted at the senior NCIS Agent. "Got someone out here asking for you, Special Agent Gibbs."

Tony looked at the silver haired head of the Washington, D.C. MCRT.

Sighing, Gibbs stood and switched places with the vehicle commander. The senior NCIS Agent pulled himself into a standing position in the hatch.

In the glare of the flood lamps, he saw a HMMWV parked alongside the AMTRAC. A Sergeant standing by the open driver's door looked up at Gibbs.

"Uh, I'm looking for…" he looked at the packet to check the name. "…a Special Agent Gibbs?"

"You're talking to him."

"Oh…well, I supposed to give you this…." He pitched the packet toward Gibbs.

The senior NCIS Agent caught the packet and opened it. As he read through the first paragraph, his expression hardened.

When Gibbs finished with the first page, he noticed the Sergeant was still standing there.

"Thanks for bringing this," he said abruptly went back to reading.

The Sergeant nodded and got back in his HMMWV.

Somewhere North of Mirbullah

With the drop zone report sent, Staff Sergeant Dallas' team re-joined Mac and the rest of the unit. The report wasn't the most positive in the world, but at least the rest of Colonel Livingston's Force Recon Marines would be able to land without the risk of too many casualties.

Mac lay on the ground next to Kayce in between Sergeant Witt, and Staff Sergeant Reynolds.

"Did you send the intel regarding the alternate drop zone, Staff Sergeant?" Mac asked Leonard Reynolds.

"Yes ma'am," replied Reynolds, "They have the intel."

"Good," Mac said as she scanned the area one more time with her binoculars, "Now let's hope they don't have to use it instead of the one that Dallas mapped out for them."

Reynolds chuckled at her ironic humor. "Understood ma'am."

"Colonel, we got a problem,"

Mac turned to see Sean O'Grady settle in beside Kayce and Reynolds.

The Light Colonel felt a knot of concern form in her stomach. "What kind of problem?"

"We've got a tango over by that grove of date palms on that low rise to the right…three o'clock, ma'am."

Mac shifted her binoculars that direction. Sure enough, the unmistakable clean outline of a Czechoslovakian built OT-64 armored personnel carrier could be seen parked next to a decent sized palm tree.

She swore under her breath. "Was it there before?" she asked no one in particular in an irritated voice. Could Dallas have lied to her? Or was this part of some trap that O'Grady had stumbled upon?

Sean had sighted his sniper rifle on the Iraqi eight-wheeled APC. Kayce did the same with Barrett sniper rifle. "No ma'am," he answered her as he adjusted the sights on his rifle, 'it just pulled up and parked."

Mac knew that the refurbished Iraqi Army wasn't even assigned to this area, so that meant the insurgents had revealed just how well they might be armed.

"Great." Mac looked again; the wheeled carrier not only had a heavy machine gun that could chop up the Force Recon soldiers before they even landed, it was also armed with a missile launcher. With a lucky shot, that weapon would make short work of any low flying KC-130 transport. They had to do something about this interloper and quick.

Sergeant Witt looked over at her, mike in hand. "Should we abort the drop, Colonel?"

They had come too far to let insurgents put a crimp in their plans at this point. "No. Staff Sergeant Dallas; take your team back out there and find out if they are the only uninvited guests to our party."

Rather than arguing with her or stridently denying that anyone had been out there in the first place, Dallas was up before Mac had finished her order. He seemed eager to regain her confidence. "Aye, aye, Colonel; all right gents, let's go! Keep your eyes peeled for any other surprise visitors!"

Dallas' team again fanned out across the drop zone, hunting for any sign of more 'late arrivals'….

No movement could be detected around the spotted OT-64 APC. This meant it could be manned by only a few insurgents and its weapons might not even be operational. Still, Mac could not take any chances. Her unit would have to determine just how much of a real threat this carrier was.

She could hear one Darcy's primary rules echoing in her head

'I believe in the traditional method of reconnaissance, Colonel. If we've fired a shot, that means we've failed our mission.'

Mac hoped that didn't include calling in air support, because she really didn't have many alternatives available to her. If Dallas' team attacked that APC, no matter how silently it might begin, there would probably be some gunfire before they overwhelmed the crew and that would lead the insurgents right to them.

However, the Light Colonel did know that Colonel Briggs had secured close air support from the Air Force Special Operations Wing. They might be able to 'surgically' remove the tango, the worry with that was that they could be 'discovered' by the insurgents during the attack. Neither was a great option, but CAS might work more in their favor. For now, she had to be patient and wait to hear back from Dallas…that is, if he wasn't part of some trap to ensnare her and the rest of Shark Two for Darcy and al-Sahood.

USS Patrick Henry

Harm, Pete, 'Flying Cloud', and his RIO (Radar Intercept Officer), 'Smoker', walked back toward the squadron ready room.

"Hey, I thought we were going to get breakfast…" Pete complained as they entered the ready room.

"And I *thought* you left your stomach out over the Persian Gulf, 'Clyde'" ribbed 'Smoker'.

"It never leaves me for long," he shot back, "besides, 'Flying Cloud', you owe Hammer…."

Harm chuckled at the good natured jibes being tossed by the two RIOs. Then he saw Nicole. He wanted to finish the previous conversation they had started on Vulture's Row. "You three go on to the mess hall, I'll catch up…."

Flying Cloud noted Nicole sitting at the back table and gently urged the RIOs out of the room.

Nicole folded the newspaper she had been reading and laid it down on the table in front of her. Harm sat down across from his XO.

She smiled. "How goes the RIO training?" She knew the CAG had given him yet another new one.

Harm returned her grin. "I think he'll do…."

"I'm pretty sure I got the better deal," Nicole teased. 'Pitcher,' who had been Harm's RIO, was now hers. The CAG had been playing 'musical RIOs' as more straggled aboard the Patrick Henry.

"My unofficial job is to train the new RIOs and then pass them on to less fortunate members of the squadron." He said this with a perfectly straight face.

Nicole's face colored at that double entendre. "Touché"

"Thank you," Harm said graciously.

"So? How did it go?"

You mean the flight with 'Clyde'?" He said evasively. "It went all right…."

Her face scrunched up in irritation. "No; you know what I mean; your phone call? To Camp Chesty Puller?"

Harm feigned dawning recognition. "Oh, you mean that…."

"Yes, 'oh I mean that', Hammer." She gave him a piercing stare. "You did talk to her, didn't you? Don't tell me after all this that you didn't talk to her…."

Harm's playful smile melted away. "I did talk to her, but I wish I hadn't…."

Now Nicole dropped the playful banter. "What do you mean?"

"The person in charge of her platoon was killed in action-"

"Oh God. Harm, I'm so sorry-"

"That's not the worst of it. Now she's leading the platoon…."

Although the situation that lead to her commanding that platoon sucked, why did he think her leading a platoon was not a good thing? In her mind, he wasn't making any sense.

"Okay…clear something up for me; how is this bad?"

Harm elaborated for her. "The CO of her unit is a murder suspect. We also think she might be a traitor…

"She? A traitor? I thought all Marine combat units were all male…."

"She's part of a pilot program," Harm explained "…putting women in combat units…."

"And she's a traitor-?"

"Sorry; possible traitor," Harm cautioned.

Nicole rolled her eyes at the lawyerese "Okay; with a 'possible traitor' leading it? You've gotta give me more, Hammer. What exactly has she done?"

Harm reeled off what they had already learned. "We know she's involved in at least a half dozen deaths, connected directly or indirectly with several disappearances, and possible collusion with known Iraqi insurgent leaders and members of the Iraqi al-Qaida terrorist cell."

Nicole couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Geez, is she planning on assuming the mantle of Anti-Christ too? Commander, are you absolutely sure about this?"

Harm nodded. "Dead sure. We've been investigating her since before the attack on JAG Corps Headquarters. Not only do we think she's a possible traitor, we also think she's recruiting others."

Supergirl's eyes got wider. "To join al-Qaida! Then why aren't you back there arresting her or doing what you JAGs do to bad guys!"

Harm was the voice of reason and logic. "The flu bug that's been going around. They activated all Reserve status pilots because you have so many of your pilots and RIOs in sick bay."

Nicole shook her head. "I forgot; *you're* a *Reserve pilot*…."

Another nod from the seated tall Navy Commander. "Exactly. Besides, to answer your other question; all we've got on her right now is hearsay and circumstantial. Mac's job is to get the hard evidence we need."

"Mac's your friend? The one you were calling?"

Another nod. "Uh huh; short for MacKenzie…her last name…."

"Is there anybody out there helping her?"

"The two other members of my JAGMAN team…Commander Turner and Lieutenant Roberts who are following up any additional leads as she provides them and they in turn, are being assisted by an NCIS team sent from Washington, DC."

Her eyebrows went up again. "So both JAG and NCIS are involved in this?"

The aviator/lawyer nodded again. "Yep."

Nicole was trying to sort through all that she was learning in this conversation. "And you're out here flying 'Cats with us instead of helping her…."

The Navy Commander steepled his hands together on the table. "That's about the size of it."

"And it's killing you."

"Would you hate me if I said 'yes'?" He said half-jokingly.

She shook her head and gave him a sympathetic smile. "No, I think I understand…especially in light of the other things you just told me."

"If it were as simple as hopping on a COD to get back to Mirbullah, I'd do it in a heartbeat." He explained.

For the first time, Supergirl leaned forward and put her hands on his. "I don't doubt you…but you can't, can you?"

Harm sighed in obvious disgust and frustration as he pulled away from her. "No, I can't…."

He didn't like it, but it was the truth. He couldn't just go U/A because Mac was in possible trouble. They had gone that route before. No, he had the lives of his squadron's members to think about.

"Well, isn't there anything we can do?"

"We?" That took him by surprise.

She leaned forward. "C'mon Hammer! You're on board a United States Navy aircraft carrier with four squadrons of combat ready planes on board! Surely we can do more than fly air patrols and make threatening gestures at the Iranians-"

He understood her passion and the motivation behind her passion, but he also had to bring her back to reality.

"Supergirl," he said gently. Now he put his hands on hers.

Nicole, however, was intent on helping her squadron commander the only way she knew how.

"If we can locate this terrorist cell, Hammer, we can bomb it to oblivion-!"

"Nicole…." this time his tone was a little more insistent.

Nicole though, still wasn't listening. She had convinced herself this plan might work.

"Dammit Hammer! This is what we've been fighting against all along! If we could just-!"

Harm had to bring her back to earth, quick. "Hey! Hey! Hey! Take it easy, Argosian…."

That did the trick. The moniker threw her. She pulled back, a quizzical look on her face. "Argosian?"

Harm gave her a wry grin. "Well your nickname is 'Supergirl' and you kinda do look like her…."

Her playful grin momentarily came back. "Now you're really reaching…," but only for a moment. "Harm…Commander…we've got to be able to do something-"

"You both just might get that chance, Commander." Harm and Nicole both turned to see the Oriskany's Staff Judge Advocate [SJA] better known as 'Lawboss' standing at the doorway. Lawboss had been in meetings all evening with the Commander Aldridge. What these were about, Harm didn't know, but he suspected something big was coming.

She gave the two Tomcat pilots a sideways glance. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

Harm gave her a quick smirk. "No, not at all; what do you need, Captain?"

She walked over toward the table. "You're going to get an update from the CAG on this in a little bit; things are building…." She gestured to the empty chair. They both indicated for her to sit down.

"Things? What kind of 'things' are building?" Nicole didn't like vague reports especially in light of what she just learned from the lawyer/aviator.

Lawboss understood her distaste for vagueness. "The 36th MEU is in the process of hunting down the insurgents that fired that Katushya rocket at their camp. The word is…it's the same group that attacked JAG Corps Headquarters."

Harm and Nicole exchanged a look. "Are they sure?" Harm asked bluntly.

Lawboss nodded. There had to be a reason why Harmon Rabb was being so blunt. But she'd focus on that later. "They have solid intel that ties them to both attacks. The 36th has one of Colonel Livingston's Force Recon teams out tracking them down…."

This time Harm and Nicole exchanged wary looks. That 'Force Recon team' was Mac's team.

Lawboss picked up on the subtle change in their attitude. "What is it? Did I say something wrong?"

Harm was quick to reassure her. "Uh, no Captain, you didn't…thanks for the heads-up."

Harm quickly got up from the table. "If you'll excuse me…" as he got up, he leaned over toward Nicole. "Supergirl, I'll be back in little bit…."

"You're welcome, Commander," Lawboss called out as Harm headed out of the room. "Okay, now what did I say to upset him so?"

Nicole gave her an empathetic look. "You know his partner is undercover with Colonel Livingston's unit, right?"

Natalia Seranovich suddenly understood Harm's reaction. "No, I didn't."

"They suspect Colonel Livingston of murder and of working with the insurgents and Colonel MacKenzie is undercover with them to find out if the allegations are true."

Lawboss was usually unflappable. Usually. "They suspect Colonel Livingston of murder and treason?"

Nicole understood her being incredulous. "Yes."

"These are the same insurgents I just mentioned…?" She added in a stunned voice. Her mind was spinning. Rumors about traitors within the Armed Forces had been circulating since 9/11. This was the first case she'd ever heard about first hand.

"Yeah, the very same ones involved in the attack on JAG Headquarters…."

"What is he going to do?" Natalia had visions of the Commander flying his Tomcat to Mirbullah against orders.

Nicole held her hands up in supplication. "What can he do? We're short of pilots. He's our squadron leader."

"Is she out there by herself…alone?" She silently prayed this wasn't another CIA operation. Word had filtered down even to her station about the recent Paraguayan operation and who had ended up salvaging it.

"The Commander told me that the rest of his JAGMAN investigative team and NCIS are assisting her."

Lawboss looked down at her papers and shook her head. "God, this just got a lot more complicated…."

Now it was Nicole's turn to worry. "What do you mean?"

"Scuttlebutt has it that the 36th is about to be engaged in a clearing operation against these insurgents and we're going to be providing air support."

Nicole suspected what Lawboss meant by that – an alpha strike, but she had to confirm it. "'We' meaning the *entire carrier group*?"

"Yes." Natalia shook her head at the juxtaposition of these factors. A train wreck was coming. "If the Commander is right about Colonel Livingston, then this whole operation could be in jeopardy."

Somewhere north of Mirbullah

Mac was about to say something to O'Grady about disabling the APC when her radio crackled. "SPOTREP!" Hissed Staff Sergeant Dallas urgently.

Mac clicked her radio. "Send it!"

"One Oh Tee Six Four Charlie with Sagger and heavy machine gun; vehicle is definitely a hostile."

Mac felt the knot in her stomach grow tighter. She clicked her talk button again. "Other tangos in the area?"

This time the news was marginally better. "None, ma'am. She's the only one."

Mac breathed a sigh of relief; they had a problem, but at least it wasn't as big as first anticipated. Now that they knew they were dealing with just one vehicle that made the solution an easy choice.

She changed frequencies on her radio and pushed her talk button. "Shark Two to Dust Devil…."

"Shark Two to Dust Devil…."

The female voice that answered was crisp and neutral. "This is Dust Devil, authenticate."

"Dust Devil, this is Shark Six Mike Actual, I authenticate Charlie…Alpha…Juliet…Uniform …November, over."

"Confirmed Shark Six Mike Actual; what can Dust Devil One do to assist? Over."

"Dust Devil One, we have an operational Oscar Tango Six Four Charlie hiding near our drop zone coordinates…can you help us out? Over…."

Captain Lea Brown, the pilot, exchanged a troubled look with her co-pilot, First Lieutenant Amiee Joshua. The insurgents at this point were supposed to only have a few technicals or pickup trucks with machine guns. Where had they found an operational OT-64 personnel carrier?

Captain Brown turned the Spectre gunship nicknamed 'Elvin Fury' toward the source of the ground transmission.

Brad clicked his push to talk button. "Keep your eyes out for any of Colonel MacKenzie's troops making contact with those insurgents," he told his team. "The moment we do, we move in; 'Doc Yader' will do the rest….

The various members of 'Rat Patrol' clicked their talk buttons twice in response.

The Master Chief shook his head and chuckled. "Beats me why 'Doc Yader' chose being a Corpsman as his cover…he knows as much about medicine as I do."

Brad kept his eyes focused on the insurgent APC. "It was the only position in Colonel Livingston's Force Recon unit that the Navy had any legitimate reason for placing one of its own with her Marines. We take the opportunities where we can get them, Master Chief."

But Darrell Coskill's tone betrayed how uneasy he felt about that 'opportunity'. "What happens if someone gets hurt or injured, Commander? Then what is Ryan going to do?"

"Then he'll stall until we can get to him,"

"Roger Wilco, Shark Six Mike Actual; we'll take care of your tango…send coordinates and target info."

Mac looked over at Witt and 2nd Lieutenant Matt Flemming. "Sending them now, Dust Devil One…." Sergeant Witt quickly relayed the drop zone coordinates. He really didn't care if they aced the insurgent carrier…Sahood should have warned them this guy was coming – casualties of war….

Rat Patrol, which was on the south side of Shark Two's positions, heard the hum of an aircraft first.

"Commander, I'd swear that was a four engine job…."

The Navy SEAL CO agreed. "Yeah, it's definitely a C-130 of some sort." "May to Patrol; everybody keep still."

Aboard 'Elvin Fury', the crew was preparing for combat.

"Pilot to Gun Crews! Action station, left side!"

"Fire Control! Prepare to receive target information from Shark Two's FO…"

"Roger Wilco, Skipper…."

Everyone in Shark Two could hear the thrum of a multiengine plane as it droned ever closer.

"Is that one of our transport planes?" Logan asked as she looked up into the night sky.

"No…that's a gunship!" Kayce said excitedly. "We got us some real support now, a b1rd!"

"B1rd?" Mac wondered what Kayce Danvers meant by 'b1rd'. She knew that in the world of military slang, b1rd was usually reserved for actual birds rather than aircraft. Her answer was quickly supplied by O'Grady.

"That's just 'Kayce talk' for Air Force ground support aircraft, ma'am."

PO2 Jack Naldone click his talk button. "SPOTREP Commander! Spectre gunship heading toward Shark Two's position! Should I wave him off?"

May clicked his talk button. "Negative Naldone. Let's see what happens…."

The navigator of the Spectre gunship watched as his coordinates matched up with the ones given by the Force Recon team. "Keep her steady, Skip; standby Fire Control…"

Both Lea and Aimee were looking through their night vision devices. "Scanning for tango…got her!" Sang out Lea. "11 o'clock low! Illum Operator, sparkle target…"

"Roger Cap'n; sparkling target now!"

Mac and the others watched as the Spectre gunship bathed the OT-64 in a bright white light.

Commander May barked into his radio. "He's spotted the insurgents and he's getting ready to open fire! Everyone hit the deck!"

"Target identified! Fire Control and Navigator; confirm target…"

"Target confirmed, Skipper! Setting Master Arm to live!"

"Dust Devil One to Shark Two; we have target in sight…engaging now…."

The Force Recon Marines of Shark Two watched as the big AC-130 began its slow circular pattern over the armored vehicle. The roar of the plane's Gatling guns punctuated by the boom of its 105 millimeter cannon filled the early morning air. Palm fronds sifted down from the date trees shattered canopy as the Spectre's armament tore away at the protective covering of the trees and perforated the armored skin of the eight-wheeled vehicle. The ground around the armored personnel carrier seemed to come alive, leaping into the air in great gouts of sand and loose soil as the gunship continued its assault.

Its armor holed and reinforced tires flattened, sparks flashed as bullets and large caliber projectiles ricocheted off the hapless truck. As Dust Devil One swung around to complete its airborne circle, gasoline from the OT-64's shattered fuel lines combined with hot leaking oil from the riddled engine.

Small flames, ignited by sparks coming from reflected rounds mixing with the two volatile liquids spurting from the ruined vehicle, began to grow. They rapidly began to eat away at the shattered engine compartment.

The mortally wounded truck crew and its complement of dead and dying Fedayeen could only watch helplessly as the flames reached the carrier's crew served weapon, its stored ammunition and the Fedayeen's mixed assortment of weapons, including packets of Semtex and C4 they had brought with them.

"Man look at that b1rd tear that tango apart!" Murmured Kayce as if in a hypnotic trance.

Mac had to admit the Spectre's attack on the APC held a horrifying fascination.

The members of 'Rat Patrol' hunkered down in their hastily made positions as the Spectre wheeled around for another pass at its target.

Captain Brown looked through her HUD display in time to see a bright glow. The Weapons Officer at the same time watched on his infrared scope as a bright spot expanded from behind the conical weapons station on board the carrier until the spot engulfed the entire vehicle.

The explosion itself was lost in the roar of concentrated fire from the Spectre.

Lea held her hand up near her eyes to shield them from the glow. "Cease fire, cease fire, target destroyed….."

As the huge gunship turned to complete its run, a flash was seen off its right wing.

"MANPAD! MANPAD!" Sang out her co-pilot. "Got a launch off to my right, Skipper!"

Lea switched her radio back to Shark Two's frequency. "Dust Devil One to Shark Mike Six Actual! We're taking enemy anti-air!" "Fire off countermeasures!" She barked to her co-pilot.

"Firing off countermeasures!" Joshua yelled back.

A spreading trail of flares arced from the left and right sides of the gunship as she continued firing. The shoulder-fired SAM spiraled into one of the flares and detonated a safe distance from the gunship.

"Get out of there, Dust Devil One!" Mac shouted over the continuing roar of the exploding APC. "Return to your station!"

Captain Brown and her crew were only too happy to comply. "Roger that, Shark Six Mike Actual, we're outta here….!"

Mac, Kayce and the others watched as the Spectre gunship soared off into the night, chased by rifle and machinegun fire.

"There goes our close air support," muttered Kayce.

"And there's the reason why," Mac said pointing at a Fedayeen soldier who had hopped out of a shallow depression where he had taken cover. "Some of the carrier's crew must've gotten out before she was hit…."

The young Fedayeen soldier now was standing up to get a better shot at the receding AC-130.

Sean coolly aimed for the center of the man's mass and fired. The Fedayeen soldier seemed to stumble, and in the process, dropped his missile launcher. He had obviously not had time to trigger it.

"That'll teach him to hop out of his hole and shoot at our ground busting zoomie," Kayce growled.

Carly Clemons had been in the Naval Historical Center when she received the call from Commander Mattoni to report to the Navy Yard.

As she walked up to the duty officer's desk at the brig and showed her ID, she idly wondered why she had been called down here. The various bars around town were just getting wound up. It was still too early for this to be the result of any barroom brawl.

Her eyes flew open wide when she saw Admiral Chegwidden conferring with Commander Mattoni. Whatever it was, it was important enough for the Admiral to be here.

Carly marched right up to the two officers and gave her best salute. "Major Clemons reporting as ordered, Commander."

The Navy/Marine JAG turned to her. "Stand at ease, Major."

"Aye sir." She took a parade rest stance.

"Major, a little under an hour ago, Petty Officers Coates, Tiner and Sergeant Givers discovered two off duty Corporals prowling around in Lieutenant Porter's office."

"Petty theft sir?" She ventured. It was not unheard of that enlisted men had been found prowling around in ruins of JAG Corps Headquarters looking for things they could sell on the black market or EBay.

The Admiral quickly dispelled that thought. "Espionage Major; they were trying use the Lieutenant's computer to break into JAG Headquarters' central files."

Carly couldn't keep the astonishment from showing through her professional exterior. "Y-Yes Sir." But an even bigger shock was waiting for her.

The Navy/Marine JAG gave her a steely look. "You and Lieutenant Commander Burford are going prosecute and I'm going to defend them."

0455 Local

Somewhere north of Mirbullah, southeast of Shark Two's Current Position

Rover platoon and its dismounted patrol teams cautiously made their way through the tangled underbrush. They were followed closely behind by soldiers from the Iraqi Army's 403rd Battalion, 4th Infantry Brigade.

1st Lt. Ralph Pope, leader of Rover Four's squad, led them through the tall grass and shrubs. On his right, 2nd Lt. Owen Chapps lead his patrol team from Combined Anti-Armor Team 1. On his left were Na'ib Ali and his dismounted team, staying close to their BRDM-2 armored car. To the right of Chapps, Rais Sadoon's squad had just dismounted from their Soviet made MT-LB personnel carrier.

Both the American Marines and the Provisional Iraqi Army troops moved closer to the edge of the wooded area, looking for any signs of a possible ambush. The plowed fields ahead of them were silent.

Pope wiped the sweat out of his eyes. "Rover 4 Alpha to Rover 4,"

"Rover 4, go."

"Objective Iowa is quiet. Sending my teams deep."

"Roger, Rover 4 Alpha, out."

Na'ib Omar Ali made a signal to Pope and Chapps. He been on the other side, with the Saddam Fedayeen and Iraqi Army regulars, waiting for the advancing Americans just a few short months ago, so he knew the Fedayeen were dug in and waiting for them. All they had to do was make one slip-up and Saddam's Own would let them know they were here.

Ali motioned for his driver to stop. On their far side Rais Sadoon did the same. This was now a game of inches. Whoever revealed themselves first would instigate this coming battle.

"Rover Two Alpha to Rover Four Alpha,"

"Four Alpha, go."

Ralph examined where they were standing.

"We're at the tree-line," reported Corporal Falls, patrol leader for Rover 2. "There's crop field at 12 o'clock. Zero bandits."

"Roger Two Alpha; same here. We're setting up house now. Out."

Ralph Pope motioned to his men to get as close to the edge of the clearing as possible. Omar Ali urged his men to the do the same.

Suddenly there were a string of rifle reports followed by the tale-tale whoosh of an anti-tank guided missile being launched. As Lieutenant Pope and his men flattened to avoid being hit, the Marine Lieutenant saw the target the Fedayeen were trying to knock out-Sadoon's APC had somehow been spotted. Nasir Sadoon had no choice but to fire back at his attackers with his vehicle's heavy machine gun; hopefully he could suppress the missile launcher before the missile actually hit his carrier.

"Contact!" Sang out one of Pope's Corporals who was acting as a spotter. "I've got three APCs armed with missiles 2000 meters out, hull down!"

(APC's?) Thought Pope. (Where the hell did these guys get personnel carriers armed with missiles?)

There was no more time to pontificate about who might have supplied these guys with armored vehicles; they had to knock them out now. If they didn't these insurgents could hold up the whole outfit.

"Sergeant! Suppressive fire on APCs before they let loose with a volley of those missiles!"

"Aye, aye Lieutenant!"

Pope could see that Owen Chapps' and Sadoon's men must have come to the same conclusion because they were also returning fire.

Mac could hear the droning of several multiengine aircraft. She clicked her push to talk button. "Stallings! Are you in position?"

"Aye ma'am!" he replied. "We're good to go!"

As most eyes were turned to the dark sky, no one saw Tim Bullard as he shimmied underneath Willet's pickup truck.

"Approaching the DZ, Cap'n," called out Gill Basilone's navigator.

Gill turned his KC-130, 'Pelican 3', toward the drop zone. "Carl, get ready to flip the lights to let the Chief and our guests know it's time to leave."

His co-pilot smiled and gave him a wink. "Aye, aye, Skipper."

Gill's co-pilot had always referred to him as 'Skipper' even though Gill was not even close to being ready to go before the promotion board. Guess being called 'Skipper' or 'Captain' came with being the pilot. Gill hoped that the Sergeant got that note to Special Agent Gibbs. They were getting very close to the drop zone and he had a feeling that this time, he wasn't going to make it back.

He looked over at the oil pressure gauge. He and Carl had been taking turns watching it since they took off. Pelican 3 had always been a little twitchy when it came to oil pressure. Now Gill could see the gauge was doing just what he expected. It was climbing into the red zone. Good. It gave him the excuse he needed.

"Flipping the switch." Carl reported.

He had hoped against hope that he wouldn't have to resort to this, but he knew Darcy and her cronies didn't like loose ends and Gill felt like a loose end.

Mac heard the first two Hercules transport planes high overhead while the third swooped low on a LAPES run and deposited three large palletized containers. She looked through her binoculars to see parachutes blossoming in the night sky.

"Here they come," Victor said as the parachuting Force Recon Marines floated toward the earth.

"Ah dammit…! Gill swore softly but loud enough for his co-pilot to hear.

Carl leaned over and looked Gill's gauges. "What is it Skipper?"

"This oil light again…."

Carl tried to get a better look. "Is it bad?"

Gill tapped the gauge to indicate he was checking to see if it was faulty. It wasn't. "Creeping into the red zone…"

"Are we going to make it back?"

"Can't tell you right now; just make sure all of the Colonel's men get clear!"

"Aye, aye, Skipper," Carl said tersely.

Brad May watched as one of the high altitude KC-130s began to decrease its height.

Master Chief Coskill could see the plane was obviously dipping lower. "What's he doing?"

"I'm not sure…." Replied the SEAL CO honestly.

Rais Nasir Sadoon only had seconds to make his decision. Whichever way he bailed out, he was probably going to be badly injured. Saying a quick prayer to Allah, Sadoon then leapt out his commander's hatch and into the dense underbrush on right side of his carrier.

The Malyuka, or Sagger, missile, thrown off course by Sadoon's machinegun fire, dived into a brace of trees directly in front of the MT-LB carrier. The resulting explosion obliterated the trees and bushes directly in front of the APC, but they did not prevent the shock wave and vegetation debris from breaking the carrier's tracks' by shearing off their link pins. The carrier chassis itself heaved up and down like a boat riding a wave. As it crashed back down to the ground, the fuel lines in the carrier snapped and errant sparks set the jumbled interior aflame.

"Green One took a hit!" Yelped Chapps over his radio. Ralph could see the MT-LB was already smoking. A tongue of flame appeared in the empty commander's hatch.

The insurgent gunfire increased in intensity.

"Where's Nasir?" Rover 4's patrol leader snapped.

"Got him, sir!" Called out the Corpsman, "He and his crew bailed out just before the missile hit!"

Pelican 3 continued its shallow dive over the drop zone.

Mac and the others watched transfixed as the plane's altitude sank.

"What is he doing?" Kayce said, vocalizing what everyone else was thinking.

"He's in trouble," Mac said tersely as three more parachutes billowed out from behind the plane.

Gill had just succeeded in getting Carl and the others to bail out, and just in time. The warning buzzer came on. Gill knew that 'Pelican 3' was a big fat target now for any insurgent brave enough to take a shot. He could imagine Darcy smiling at this turn of events. If he was really lucky, he could pancake this old girl onto the desert floor and walk away. But he knew Darcy would never allow that.

Gill Basilone could do little with Pelican 3 now, he just had to hope the insurgents didn't get a lucky shot and if they did, that it would be over with quickly.

He never saw the SA-7 Grail missile headed for the body of his aircraft.

Sean fired at the second insurgent who had popped up with a portable surface to air missile launcher, but it was too late. The missile had been fired and it seemed to only take seconds for it to slam into Pelican 3. The resulting explosion opened the side of the floundering KC-130.

Trailing smoke, flame and debris, Pelican 3 roared low over the drop zone then slammed into a slight rise in a hellish explosion. A fireball rose into the early morning sky, marking the passing of Marine 1st Lieutenant Gill Basilone and the KC-130 aircraft known as Pelican 3.

Mac and other members of Shark Two stood dumbfounded in the nightmarish light caused by the burning aircraft.

"Holy Mother-"

"Son of a-"

Mac couldn't concentrate on what the other Force Recon Marines were saying. Her eyes blurred with tears. Darcy D'Acerville Livingston had just claimed another life. The Marine JAG Corps attorney had to make sure that, this was the last. She barked into her radio on an open channel.

"Shark Mike Six Actual to Pelicans! Get out of here! Now! We'll help Shark One and Shark Three!"

The Light Colonel didn't wait to hear their responses. She switched her radio back to the local net.

"Shark Mike Six Actual to Shark Two elements! Recover surviving personnel from Shark One and Shark Three!"

She looked at Kayce. No further words needed to be said. Shark Two's Recon Marines began fanning out to assist the men Shark One and Shark Three as they began to land.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!" was all Master Chief Coskill could say. SEAL Commander Brad May was stunned too at first, but as the fireball rose higher into the sky, he swung into action.

"May to Rat Patrol, recover all air crew from Pelican 3! Do not let them fall into Colonel Livingston's hands!"

Members of SEAL TEAM 'Rat Patrol' moved out of their positions to recover the KC-130 crewmen that were landing all around them.

Darcy had watched the KC-130 pancake into the low rise. She was glad that insurgent had taken care of Gill for her. She would have so hated to have to send Jac to tidy up another mess. Seeing the plane explode gave her a rush like she hadn't felt since Carlson Ebbits was killed. Usually, she didn't feel anything but there was something about Gill's death that was…satisfying and relief…she felt relief.

She wondered how long it would take before forensic teams discovered there were other bodies on board Pelican 3 with ole Gill. Sergeant Gonsalves had killed members of Shark One who knew too much and were unreliable. Everyone else who parachuted out of the plane was either ignorant of their plans or ready do as she said. It was a shame that what was left of Gill's crew had been able to bail out. If only Gonsalves could have killed them like he did the KC-130's crew chief. Oh well, not to worry, the Saddam Fedayeen on the ground would get them.

Now she had to psych herself up to play the shocked leader. Oh these poor men, their horrible deaths, it was awful, but they were Force Recon Marines, and they would do their duty. All she had to do now was make sure MacKenzie was still on her side, she'd hate to have to kill her….

Jac carefully covered PFC Alton's body. Shark Three's forward observer had not realized that his parachute had been 'damaged' before he left the plane. Alton had fooled Gonsalves into thinking he was dead, but not him. Captain Lewis had taken the precaution of sabotaging Alton's parachute before they had taken off. Luckily Alton had not discovered the tears until it was too late.

"Is that Alton?" Jacques turned to see 1st Lieutenant Bart Skinner, CO of Shark Three, standing there. He had obviously witnessed the Captain burying PFC Alton. That was okay, though, because if Jac hadn't killed him, Skinner was supposed to.

Jac put the finishing touches on the grave. It was deeper than Rathum's had been. This time there wouldn't be any discoveries made. Jac gave Bart a sly smile. "It *was* Alton. Looks like I'm your new Forward Observer, Lieutenant."

"Say again Pelican 2," Andrew Baxter listened intently to the report as it came in. Faith Coleman and Bud Roberts studied the 36th MEU XO's solemn facial expression. The two JAG Corps attorneys shared a look. Whatever it was, it wasn't good news.

"Understood 2, get back to base, Gatorforce Leader, out." Andrew handed radio mike back to the vehicle commander and turned toward the two attorneys. "That was the XO for the drop plane section. Its leader was shot down by an insurgent armed with a SAM-"

The vehicle commander, Sergeant Dewert tapped the Executive Officer of the BLT on the shoulder. "Uh, Colonel, sorry to interrupt, sir, but it's Staff Sergeant Fuller. He needs to speak with you."

"Excuse me a moment," he said to the JAG attorneys and then took the radio-telephone mike. "This is Gatorforce Leader, go…."

Bud could hear a strained voice and guessed it was Rover Leader. "Hang tight Leader," Baxter said tersely, "the Sluggers should be there shortly. Out."

"Sluggers sir?" Faith asked. She knew it had to be some sort of code.

Baxter politely held up a finger. "Just a minute, Commander…Gatorforce Leader to Slugger Leader; Slugger Leader, do you copy?"

Again a tinny voice could be heard over Baxter's muffled receiver. "Rovers need big brother; pull out all stops, Over." Colonel Baxter's voice was tight.

"The recon unit must've run into something," Bud murmured to Faith.

"Don't have they have the firepower to handle an insurgent roadblock?" Faith Coleman asked innocently. She had no idea if they did or not. But it seemed to her that typical LAV unit should be able to easily handle this kind of obstacle.

Bud looked at her as if she had asked a final exam question. "Well, uh, usually, yes ma'am, they do-"

"But not in this case, Commander," Baxter had turned the radio back over to Dewert. "The insurgents are entrenched on a farm just northwest of here. They appear to have anti-tank missiles-"

"They have anti-tank missiles?" Faith blurted out then reigned in her next comment. "Begging your pardon, Colonel, but these don't sound like some rag-tag, run of the mill insurgents."

"You're right, Commander," Andrew said in a somewhat surly reply. "That's why Lieutenant Borden's tanks are getting involved."

"I apologize Colonel," Faith said in a complete change from her usual demeanor. Baxter nodded in acceptance. "With your permission, I need to inform Special Agent Gibbs about the situation."

Baxter nodded and motioned for Dewert to hand her the radio mike, which he did somewhat reluctantly.

"Juliet 4 to November 1..."

Sergeant Lee Damato bent down into AMTRAC's interior again. "Special Agent Gibbs? It's for you."

Gibbs, still holding onto Lieutenant Basilone's statement, traded places with Tony and took the radio mike. "Go ahead Juliet 4…."

"Gibbs…there's been another death."

The silver haired NCIS Agent felt his throat tighten. "Who Commander?"

"A Gill Basilone," Faith reported in her usual clinical manner. "1st Lieutenant; he was flying one of the transports carrying one of Colonel Livingston's squads when he was shot down by a SAM."

Gibbs looked down at Gill Basilone's statement. (He knew she was onto him….) The Head of the Washington MCRT felt bile rising in his throat. Darcy Livingston had erased yet another life. This time, however, he had something, albeit thin, to tie her to his death.

"Gibbs? Are you still there?" He hadn't realized Faith was still on the radio. Her voice had a tinge of concern in it.

"Find out all you can, Commander; and get to that wreckage as soon as it's secured. Gibbs out." He handed the mike back to the Sergeant.

Tony noticed the change in his Boss's face. He also noticed Gibbs had a tighter grip on those papers he had been reading.

"What is it, Boss? What did she say?"

(I should have arrested her the first time we were here. It's my fault she's killed as many as she has…Sedrick was supposed to keep an eye on her….)

"Boss? Are you all right?"

Tony swore lightning flashed in Gibbs' eyes as he looked at him. "I want these dirtbags, DiNozzo! I don't care how many rules we break or how many people we tick off, I…*want*…*these*…*dirtbags*!"

-TBC…


	72. Chapter 71

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 71

SEAL Team 'Rat Patrol'

The SEAL Team worked quickly and quietly to recover all members of Pelican 3 that had been able to bail out before the crash. Fortunately they were able to locate all of the aircrew before any of Darcy's Force Recon Marines could.

"Where's your Crew Chief?" Commander May asked the Pelican 3's co-pilot.

"Dead…." Carl Tanner said in a dull, listless voice. Tanner stared off into the distance. May knew the 1,000 yard stare when he saw it.

"You mean he died in the crash?" Coskill probed, as he checked the man for injuries. Coskill worried that Tanner might be in shock. Amazingly, Tanner and his surviving crewmates had gotten out of the doomed KC-130 physically unharmed.

Carl looked at the Master Chief Petty Officer, but it was obvious he wasn't looking at him. "No…he had been shot…they all had…."

"Shot?" It was almost too incredible for May to believe. Darcy wasn't just satisfied in downing the aircraft; she had wanted to make sure everyone on board, except for her confederates, were dead.

"Not all of them were shot, Commander." Pelican 3's navigator replied quietly. His voice wasn't listless anymore; it was filled with anxiety? Fear? "Some had been stabbed…."

Brad knew the people his unit was following were killers, but he didn't know they could be so savage. "So some were shot and others were stabbed? How many?"

The navigator looked up at him with a drained stare. "About…about a half dozen, uh, including the Corpsman, sir."

Coskill and May traded grim looks. It was obvious that they had gotten rid of anyone they couldn't trust. "Petty Officer Stone…." Darrell said bitterly. Stone, along with Ryan Burke aka, 'Doc Yader', had volunteered for this same mission.

There was nothing that could be done for Stone now. Except to add his death to the list of charges building against Colonel Livingston and her crew. Brad May motioned to his unit's Senior Chief Petty Officer.

"Brachett…."

Nick Brachett had been checking with the teams' vehicle drivers to make sure they were ready to move out at a moment's notice. He made his way back over to the SEAL CO. "Yes sir?"

"Make sure the air crew's chutes and any other debris that can be tied to them are buried deep or taken with us. I don't want Colonel Livingston's cronies finding out these guys are still alive."

"Already done Commander," Brachett reported with grim efficiency. "We're ready to move out when you are, sir."

Brad nodded and looked over at Chief Petty Officer Davis who had taken over keeping an eye on Colonel MacKenzie's unit.

"What's the sitrep, Davis?"

There was obvious disgust in CPO Davis' voice as lowered his binoculars. "Looks like Colonel MacKenzie *is* hooking up with Colonel Livingston, sir."

Darcy Livingston, Leader of Force Recon unit 'Shark', was struggling out of her parachute harness when Mac and the other members of her team reached the Force Recon CO.

Mac reached out her hand to help her CO to her feet. As Darcy stood, she gave her a quick acknowledgement of thanks. "MacKenzie…"

Mac nodded back. "Ma'am…."

Darcy stood with her hands on her hips surveying the hellish landscape. Her face had an appropriate look of anguish painted on it. "I wish that we were meeting again under better circumstances, Cher." She said distractedly to her subordinate.

Mac looked back at the burning wreckage. It was hard to keep her tears from showing.

"Yes ma'am. Did the pilot say anything about having problems?"

Darcy shook her head as she gazed at the burning wreckage. "No, no… everything was fine as far as I knew. The first sign of trouble was when the co-pilot came back and told the Crew Chief that they had an emergency up front…"

Mac looked down at the ground, she wondered whether that was the truth or not. "Did the rest of the crew make it out, ma'am?" she asked quietly.

"I-I don't know Colonel, right now I need to contact Briggs…Colonel Briggs…and tell him what's happened." Darcy seemed disturbed about what had happened. Either it was a good act, or what had taken place was not something she had planned.

For now Mac was going go with the Force Recon CO not having expected this to happen. "Yes ma'am."

Corporal Gonzalez silently made his way over to Darcy. She motioned to the radio-telephone operator who handed her his radio mike.

"Sharkleader Actual to Bullgator; Sharkleader Actual to Bullgator, do you copy, over?"

The reply was curt. "Authenticate Sharkleader." Mac recognized Brigg's voice.

"I authenticate Charlie…Alpha…Juliet…Uniform …November, over."

"Confirmed Sharkleader Actual."

"Sitrep; all Shark elements at DZ; Casrep to follow…nine hushed, four ducks and one goose, over."

Mac knew this is not what Colonel Briggs had been expecting, nine killed, four injured and one transport plane shot down.

He was clearly shaken by her report. "Say again, Sharkleader."

Darcy sighed heavily then clicked her mike again. "Nine hushed; four ducks and one goose."

After a moment Briggs's voice came back, stronger, but not as strong as when they first started this conversation. "Affirmative, Sharkleader Actual…Rabbit?"

Darcy looked at the Force Recon troopers around her. Ashton Briggs had just given her the option to abort the mission. She surveyed their faces then clicked her push to talk button "Negative, Bullgator. Grizzly…I say again…Grizzly…not Rabbit."

Briggs actually sounded buoyed by her decision to continue the mission. Despite the casualties, she was going ahead with the mission. "Affirmative Sharkleader Actual, Bullgator out." If he had only known what her response actually meant.

Darcy handed the mike back to her RATELO. She sighed again as she glanced at the burning wreckage.

"It leaves us a little shorthanded for the mission at hand, but we'll just have to deal with that, won't we? We all know the fortunes of war…."

It was cold and Mac said the only thing she could at this point. "Yes ma'am, the fortunes of war…."

Darcy gave her a sad smile. "I'm glad you understand, Cher."

Darcy turned her back on the flaming wreckage. "We are all going to be stretched thin, but then again, we had prepared for this possibility. Colonel MacKenzie; I will lead Shark One and Shark Three and since your unit is still intact, Shark Two will take point."

"Thank you ma'am," Mac said in as neutral a voice as she could manage.

Darcy gave her a sardonic smile. "Don't thank me Colonel; I haven't done you any favors."

That barb earned Mac some snide chuckles from Darcy's troops. The JAG Corps Light Colonel noticed that her Marines were conspicuously silent.

Darcy took note of the lack of laughter coming from Mac's platoon. Normally Colonel Livingston would praise solidarity, but not this kind. No, this kind was dangerous. It meant that Mac was respected more than her and that could not be allowed. Well, she'd rectify that little problem soon enough…. Right now, she had to focus on explaining their 'mission'.

"…as for our current situation, we're down two forward observers, and that, I'm afraid, puts us in a bind-"

"You're only down one forward observer, Colonel…."

Darcy's eyes immediately went to the voice. As did every other set of eyes. "Captain Lewis," she said in a tone that didn't betray any surprise or relief. "I'm glad to see you made it all right…."

Jacques Lewis nodded. "I did ma'am, but we had another casualty."

"Who?"

Captain Lewis continued. "PFC Alton, ma'am. His parachute malfunctioned. He didn't make it…." Mac felt her skin crawl when she thought the Captain had grinned and she thought she had heard some of Darcy's Force Recon soldiers actually begin to laugh. Maybe it was just her imagination….

"Well Captain, we can make up for most everyone killed by doing some reshuffling in Shark's One and Three, but that still leaves us an observer short…."

Jac accepted her clinical analysis and added some of his own. "I think 2nd Lieutenant Fulmer can handle being Shark One's observer and I'll take over as Three's artillery observer, ma'am. That is, if you don't mind officers being observers."

Darcy faked a wry smile letting him know she appreciated (that is, as much as she could) his joke. "Thank you, Jacques; I knew I could count on you..."

Somewhere Northeast of Mirbullah

As Lieutenant Chapps' team took care of Sadoon and his crew, Ra'is Mohammad al-Sapir nosed his BRDM-2, mounting four Konkurs, or Spandrel, Anti-Tank Wire Guided missiles, to the edge of the clearing. The scouts from Bahi's HMMWV found their primary target; a slight hill that rose above a grove of date palms. An ammunition dump. They pointed out the 'hill' to al-Sapir and his crew.

It was a long shot, but maybe al-Sapir's BRDM could destroy the dump.

As Lieutenants Chapps' and Pope's men traded rifle fire with the insurgents, al-Sapir's crew made its move. The noise of the gun battle was drowned out as one of the BRDM's missiles streaked from its position and slammed into the side of the berm protecting the ammunition dump. Designed to take out NATO main battle tanks, there was no way to know if this would work. It might pass straight through the reinforced wall and out the other side.

Mohammad al-Sapir was shocked to see several bodies thrown high in the air as the Konkur missile found something solid to set it off. The resulting explosion sent flames shooting up above the trees. But the fire ball was only momentary; it had not been a knock out kill.

In response to the attack, Kasim Vladovich and his men looked for targets of opportunity. Kasim, a veteran of battles in Chechnya, could make out a Marine patrol slowly making its way across the field. They'd pay for the damage done to the ammo dump and the death of his friends.

Corporal Daniel Falls and his unit, 'Rover Two Alpha', moved gingerly out into the crop field. The tall waving sorghum would give them some cover, but their movement unfortunately would be 'telegraphed' to whoever was watching them.

Daniel felt as if he had weights on his feet, too many of the sorghum stalks seemed to be moving – at least to him. He looked to his right, PFC Dornier, his grenadier, nervously fingered his rifle. On his left, Lance Corporal Kellen gave him a quick hand signal indicating there was still no sign of the enemy movement. The smoke from the ammo dump and Sadoon's burning APC were the only indications of casualties at the moment. Automatic rifle fire had now reduced to some occasional staccato bursts, so it looked like each side was trying to decide what to do next.

The Corporal started to raise his hand, but he never finished the movement as a wild rippling burst of automatic rifle and machine gun fire raked his little group.

Daniel Falls felt a burning sensation in both of his arms as he tumbled into the dirt.

0530? Local

South of the Line of Departure

Stuart Dunston adjusted his helmet and coughed. The diesel fumes from the AMTRAC's engine were not as strong as they had been when they'd first moved out, but they still bothered him.

"Thought you said you'd done this before…" Brad was more jocular than Stuart thought he should be at this hour. Had to be because he was young. Man, he couldn't wait to get behind that anchor desk….

"It's been a while since I rode in one of these," Stuart grunted as he shifted, trying to find a more comfortable spot on the bench.

"Apologies for the fumes," called out a grinning Corporal who was sitting just in back of the driver.

Sully just nodded his acknowledgement and went back to checking his equipment. Brad and Stuart chose to just give him a friendly smile.

Stuart knew the Corporal didn't mean a word of his 'apology'. He figured Brad thought the same thing.

"Have we reached the Line of Departure yet?" he asked, trying to show that he understood military jargon.

The Corporal just turned and grinned at them again. "Sorry gentlemen; but we haven't even reached the Release Point yet…."

Zeke Fuller's 'wingman', Corporal Jake Appleton of 'Rover Two', saw his patrol leader go down. He could see flashes from a trench next to what looked like…damn! Another APC!

"Gunner! Sabot APC! Then give Falls and his team cover fire!"

"On the way!" barked his gunner.

The 25 millimeter M-242 chain gun began thumping, sending a mix of high explosive and armor piercing rounds slamming into the trench line. In response, one of the hidden concrete bunkers revealed themselves, opening fire with its 120mm mortar and 12.7mm machine guns. A hailstorm of fire rained shrapnel on the LAV-25 as Corporal Appleton switched his radio to the platoon net.

"Rover Two to Four! Could use an assist!"

"Gotcha covered Two; fall back!" Rover Four's LAV-25 moved forward out of the tree line, heading diagonally across the crop field toward Appleton's armored vehicle.

As Zeke's LAV started pumping rounds into the bunker, 14.5mm bullets began pinging off his cupola. The Staff Sergeant frantically waved Falls' team toward the open rear doors of his LAV-25.

"Zeke!" Chris Kirtland, his gunner, yelled. "Get your butt in here! That APC is getting ready to part your skull with a Sagger!"

"Ricky!" Staff Sergeant Fuller began banging on the turret to get his driver's attention as he watched smoke erupt from the conical turret of the enemy APC. "Back us outta here!"

As the LAV driver threw the vehicle in reverse, Falls' team rose up and gave what cover fire they could. Chapps and Pope's squads joined in the fray, trying to throw off the aim of the ATGM (Anti-Tank Guided Missile) gunner.

Watching all this, Sergeant Lane DeWard, Rover Two and Four's anti-tank support, had had enough of the insurgents being able to lob guided missiles at them whenever they wanted. It was time to even the odds.

"Gunner! TOW! APC! 1000 meters dead ahead!"

"Aye, aye, Sergeant! On the way!" yelled the gunner.

The LAV-TOW vehicle bucked as a missile shot out of the left side tube on the hammerhead launcher.

The Malyuka, or Sagger, and the 'tube launched optically tracked wire guided', or TOW, ATGMs crossed each others' paths, laying out their lines of fine optical wire as they headed toward their intended targets.

Just down the way, al-Sapir's BRDM launched another Konkurs missile at the burning ammo dump. 'Arif Bahi, who was leading Sapir's scout team, added his team's own firepower to the assault.

The next few moments seemed to occur in slow motion. DeWards' TOW missile found its mark, tearing a large hole in the Czech-built wheeled carrier, sending its conical turret sailing through the air. Before he was killed, the insurgent ATGM gunner had started to duck incoming fire from Marine and Iraqi Army patrols, causing the Soviet-built Malyuka missile to veer wildly off course. Fuller dove back into his turret hatch as the insurgent anti-tank guided missile detonated to the right of the LAV.

Al-Sapir's Konkurs missile found its mark and the smoldering ammunition dump ignited, sending spirals of burning ammunition cart-wheeling out of the reinforced berms. A secondary explosion caused two of the grove's date palms to reel drunkenly and then crash to the ground.

Almost simultaneously, the 25 millimeter armor piercing rounds from Fuller's LAV found their mark, silencing the concrete bunker's 120mm mortar and setting off the mortar's spare shells. The resulting explosion leveled the bunker.

Before anyone could react to what had happened, two more concrete reinforced earthen bunkers sitting on a hill behind the burning OT-64 joined the firefight along with two seemingly abandoned blockhouses.

Gouts of dirt and flying sorghum stalks marked the near misses next to Fuller's and DeWards' LAVs. These were caused by the blockhouses' 45mm M42 anti-tank guns. While not lethal enough to take on a main battle tank, these cannons could easily knock out any vehicle in the reconnaissance unit.

Fuller and DeWard, while firing their 7.62 anti-aircraft machine guns, activated their smoke grenades blanketing the Marine and Iraqi Army squads in front of them with dense white smoke.

Zeke quickly switched his radio to the company net. "Rover Leader to all Rover elements! Fall back! Fall back to the tree line!"

MTAC, NCIS Headquarters

Washington Navy Yard

Tom Morrow watched on the large video screen the satellite feed of 36th MEU's 'Gatorforce' as it left Camp Chesty Puller and headed northeast. As impressive as this was, the Director of NCIS knew there was trouble brewing. With the evidence mounting against Lieutenant Colonel Darcy Livingston, and with al-Sahood still underground, the potential for disaster was growing.

While Tom tried to sort through in his mind the political implications of the Marines' star female combat officer possibly being a traitor to her country, he almost didn't hear the communications technician who was trying to get his attention.

"Director? Director Morrow? I have Special Agent Shepard in Beirut waiting to speak with you…."

The Director acknowledged her request. "Right side of the screen, Audra; I want to keep the satellite feed from Mirbullah as well…."

The technician nodded as she quickly punched a few buttons on her keyboard. "Yes sir, on screen now, sir."

"Sitrep Jen," Director Morrow was not in the mood for the usual niceties.

"We lost our contact in the Lebanese Army. Al-Sahood is covering his tracks."

More bad news.

"What happened to your contact?"

"He was murdered in his office. They were on to us as well. They tried to eliminate us with a car bomb when we were about to apprehend them."

Al-Sahood's flair for the dramatic wasn't going to take a back seat to his upcoming terror attack. He was a showman in every sense of the word. The fact that he had tried to kill Jenny Shepard and Ziva David shook him.

"Are you and Officer David all right?"

Jenny gave him a brief smile as acknowledgement for his concern. "We're fine, Director."

Now that he knew they were both all right, it was time to get down to business. "We need to know what he's up to, Jen."

Jenny Shepard talked off screen for a moment with her Mossad contact. "Agent David believes she has a lead on another contact."

"How viable is this contact?"

Jen looked back at Ziva David. Again, they conferred off screen. Then Agent Shepard was back. "Officer David believes he can help us learn what we need to know about al-Sahood and his ties to the 36th MEU."

"Time's running out, Jen." Morrow said grimly.

? Local

Somewhere Northeast of Mirbullah

As the recon unit for Gatorforce Two fought for its survival, Sergeant Kyle Sewett and Corporal Jason Raden moved their combined Marine-Iraqi Army recon unit for Gatorforce One into the tree line, just north of Two.

Kyle didn't like that silent tree line ahead of their unit. The gunfire and explosions they could hear to their south indicated this area was 'front line' for the insurgents as far as they were concerned. Rover Three's commander decided to radio his acting CO and see how far they had pushed into enemy territory.

"Rover Three to Rover Four-"

His call was interrupted by Rover Four's incoming message. "Rover Four to Three –contact! Heavily entrenched forces at map coordinates R 21 V 19! Setting up defensive line east of there!"

So much for traditional silent reconnaissance. This was now a shooting match. He hoped they were the 'firstest with the mostest'. "Roger Four, Good luck, Three out!"

Kyle checked his map. Behind this row of crop fields was a set of low rocky hills dotted with date palm groves. The hills offered a perfect view for anyone trying to defend the area. With a grove of palms and other native trees lining the far edge of the fields, al-Sahood's men had nearly perfect defensive positions. It was almost guaranteed that every field both north and south of Gatorforces' current positions was similarly defended. They'd have to get an aerial view to see just how deep this defensive belt was.

"Rover Three to One; get us a bird's eye view of this area so we at least have an idea of who is over there, Over!"

Fuller had named Corporal Raden as the primary coordinator with his unit's fire support team. His response was professional and terse. "Rover One to Three, Roger!"

Jason quickly switched his radio to the Fire Support Team (FiST) LAV frequency.

"Rover One to Hawk One…"

'Hawk One' sat in the woods in between two reconnaissance units. The original idea was that the fire support team would be able to see both fields as the two recon units advanced and provide any artillery or close air support as needed.

Commanded by Sergeant Stephen DeWald, Hawk One had a crew compliment of four – himself, his driver – PFC James, the forward air controller - Corporal Yamura, and the artillery observer - Corporal Roca.

"Hawk One, go," replied Stephen.

"Need another bird's eye view of map coordinates; R20 through R26 and V 17 through V 21, over."

Hawk One had already had four Predator drones scanning the area since early this morning. They had not found any sign of insurgent positions in this area and had moved further west toward their primary objective. He had heard over the battalion net that Staff Sergeant Fuller's unit was heavily engaged with insurgents in the south field. He could call in fighters to strafe and bomb the targets, but both recon units were 'danger close', meaning chances for casualties from friendly fire were high. Because Colonel Briggs had grounded the attack helos, Gatorforce was essentially fighting this battle with one hand tied behind its back.

Stephen DeWald muttered an expletive under this breath. A second pass on these hills would mean they were taking 'eyes' away from the search for al-Sahood's hideout. But without the close air support from the helos, Fuller's recon units needed to know exactly who they were up against and their unit strength and this was the only way to accomplish that.

"Hawk One to Rover One, roger. Should I send in close air support as well? Over."

Jason Raden's reply was curt. "Negative Hawk One on the close air support; just recon of requested coordinates. We'll take care of the rest, over."

"Hawk One to Rover One; affirmative, out."

Kevin Yamura gave Stephen a disgusted look. "This sucks," he said bluntly. "Briggs should have never grounded the whole helo unit just because Lieutenants Lukens and Buell shot in the direction of Lieutenant Dodge."

Stephen agreed with the forward air controller, but he had to maintain an aire of neutrality to keep everyone in line. "The Colonel had his reasons, Yamura." Seeing that did little to mollify the young Corporal, DeWald gave him an assignment that would hopefully placate him and at the same time practice coordination between the Navy and Marine assets. "In the meantime, why don't you do a radio check with the carrier battle group?"

Yamura nodded and dug out his penlight and codebook. Stephen turned to Corporal Roca.

"Get Lieutenant Dye on the horn; I want to be able to pummel any opposition those drones find out there…."

"Aye sir," replied Roca as he began to contact the LAV mortar unit.

Dawn would be coming soon and the disaster at the landing zone had seriously messed with Darcy's timetable. After giving the recon troops a brief overview of their mission for Colonel Briggs, she divided up the Shark One and Three's personnel while sending Colonel MacKenzie and Shark Two ahead of the main group.

MacKenzie quickly gathered her Marines and within a few minutes the entire unit was speeding away in their Dodge pickups from Colonel Livingston and her assembled units. As soon as Mac's troops were out of sight, Darcy gave her Force Recon Marines a wicked smile.

"Now that we've eliminated those who could have compromised this mission, we can get down to business…."

Before she could complete her next thought, one of the assembled Marines interrupted her.

"What's our real mission, ma'am?" it was Bart Skinner, the leader of Shark Three.

Darcy nodded to Captain Lewis who had been conferring with 1st Lieutenant Baggett, Darcy's XO for Shark One. "Our real mission, Skinner, is really quite simple. First, we eliminate Shark Two and then we make our way to al-Sahood's safe house."

"But I thought you said Colonel MacKenzie could be trusted…" shot back Sergeant Greg Saunders, one of Skinner's reconnaissance engineer NCOs.

"She can," the Captain reassured Saunders and some of the others who had looked nervous about taking on a whole armed squad of their fellow recon soldiers. "But she has several in her unit who could try and stop us. We have to help eliminate them."

"So how are we going to do that?" Desmond Bailey, Shark Three's XO, asked. "Are we going to ambush them?"

Darcy shook her head. Sometimes these new recruits…they may be Force Recon Marines, but they didn't understand the first thing about being really ruthless. "No, nothing so pedestrian, Cher…we're going to let Sahood's men do the dirty work for us and then we'll eliminate any surviving opposition from MacKenzie's unit."

Bart though, still didn't like the idea. "I don't know, Colonel, killing our guys from a distance is one thing, but getting in close…" He didn't finish his thought.

Darcy laid a seemingly sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "Cher, you know we tried to talk sense into them, but they wouldn't listen. It's better this way, you know that."

Bart looked up at her, as if he'd suddenly realized that this kind of hesitation could lead to his own death. "You're right ma'am; it's better this way."

He couldn't see Sergeant Gonsalves behind him. The Force Recon sniper had pulled out his combat knife. Out of his line of vision, Jacques signaled to the Sergeant 'not yet'. Gonsalves re-sheathed his knife, but the look on his face told everyone around them that Skinner's reprieve was only temporary.

"Yes, and unfortunately, it is the only way, Cher." Her voice was cold and emotionless. She did not regret having to do it this way anymore than she regretted PFC Alton's death or the shooting down of Pelican 3.

Seeing that she had satisfied Skinner, she continued her briefing.

"Now then, once al-Sahood's men have eliminated our liabilities, MacKenzie and her team will be combined with our units and we'll make our way to Sahood's safe house. When we have replenished and reequipped ourselves there, we'll position ourselves so we can direct the SCUD and FROG missiles down onto the 36th as it pushes its way past Sahood's 'frontier defenses."

She smirked at her crew. "What Colonel Briggs doesn't know, won't hurt him." That comment elicited a few sarcastic chuckles from Darcy's Force Recon Marines.

Navy Detention Facility

Washington Navy Yard

Major Clemons and Commander Burford sat across the table from Admiral Chegwidden and Commander Mattoni

"So, what are you charging our clients with?"

John Burford cleared his throat and then began reading the charge sheet. "Violation of the following articles of the UMCJ: Article 134, Unlawful entry; article 108, theft of electronic data; article 104, aiding the enemy and sabotage of naval equipment; and violation of article 106a, Espionage."

"You have no proof they stole that data or that they were engaged in espionage, it's all hearsay at this point…." The Admiral's eyes bored into his two junior officers. They tried their best to ignore his intimidation tactics.

"It's on Corporal Bannion's disk," countered Carly Clemmons. Despite himself, AJ was beginning to admire the Major's spunk.

Alan Mattoni shook his head. "Doesn't mean a thing. You can't prove the file is Bannion's. And the unlawful entry charge is weak."

"We have a sworn statement from Lieutenant Porter stating that her spare key disappeared over two weeks ago and hasn't been recovered yet." John said firmly.

"Does the serial number match her lost key?" The Navy/Marine JAG asked. He was fishing and both John and Carly knew it.

Carly decided to let him have this one. "Yes it does, Admiral."

That was all AJ Chegwidden needed. The Admiral and Commander Mattoni began picking up their papers and files and putting them into their briefcases.

"Fine," replied AJ with a hint of smugness, "it looks like a plea bargain is out of the question…we'll see you in court."

John and Carly rose and watched as both men exited the room, leaving them alone. Nothing was said between the two junior JAG attorneys for a moment.

"Did he say what I think he did?" Carly finally asked in a quiet voice.

John nodded, looking as if he had just survived a chance encounter with a mountain lion. "He did; you think we have a shot at winning this case?"

Carly began hurriedly gathering her papers and stuffing them into her briefcase. She shot him a worried look. "We'd better…because if we don't, he'll hang us from that yardarm out there in the courtyard."

? Local

USS Patrick Henry

Harm and Nicole had on their gear and were headed through the ship's passageways toward the Patrick Henry's flight deck.

"So this Webb character, just how good is his intel?" Nicole asked. She had been talking with Harm about Clayton Webb's threat assessment report and about who gave the first confirmation that there might be traitors in the 36th MEU.

Harm chuckled sarcastically, "Annoyingly accurate," he quipped, thinking about his previous run-ins with this particular CIA Agent.

Nicole gave him a wry grin. "Well, let's hope he's off this time."

Harm gave her a quick unsettled smile. "Yeah, let's."

Harm opened the door to the flight deck and they were simultaneously greeted and assaulted by the noise and odors of the carrier flight deck. Bathed in early morning floodlights, steam swirled and mixed with jet exhaust. All around them flowed a veritable rainbow of crews- aviation fuel teams, plane handler teams, catapult and arresting gear teams, ordnance crews and teams responsible for putting liquid oxygen in the planes. Moving carefully through this multihued tide, they hustled to join their RIOs who were already standing by their Tomcats.

"Glad to see you two finally deigned to join us!" Pete barked over the noise and confusion of the deck operations going on around them.

"Sorry; big secret meeting with the JAG man, here!" She quipped as she pulled on her helmet.

Both Pete Gibbons and Jeff Rodriguez gave Harm a puzzled look.

"She's kidding!" Harm replied in a slightly annoyed voice as he secured the chin strap for his helmet.

"Commander!" Yelled the leader of the plane handler team nearest to Harm and Nicole's aircraft, "Time's a wastin'! You gonna fly this morning or not?"

Harm looked at Nicole and the RIOs, and then he turned back the leader. "We're good to go!"

"Then get on board! As the Duke would say; you're 'burnin' daylight'!"

The two pilots and their RIOs climbed into their aircraft and strapped themselves in. Once the plane crews were sure they were secure, they moved the fighters to the rear of the steam catapult. Harm's plane was hooked in first, then Nicole's. As they were being attached to the catapult mechanism, the jet blast deflectors slowly rose in back of each plane.

On board their aircraft, the two Tomcat crews made their final checks to make sure everything was go for launch.

Harm looked out of the cockpit at the yellow jersey wearing launch officer. Harm and Nicole began to give their planes power at his signal. This was always the hardest part and the most dangerous. Would they get up enough speed to clear the deck and get airborne? Was the catapult dialed to the right weight for these aircraft? If not, they would sail off the carrier and their planes would plunge into the warm Gulf waters while Pete and Jeff would become the newest members of the Martin Baker Fan Club.

Harm closed his eyes for a moment as he goosed his throttle a little bit more. What was taking so long? Suddenly Harm was pressed back in his seat as he felt his plane rocketing toward the end of the launch ramp. The aviator/lawyer gave his plane more power and felt it rise into the still dark sky. His launch was swiftly followed by Nicole's and soon the two were winging their way into the darkness.

Back on the carrier, Captain Tobias Ingles was sitting in his chair on the bridge, drinking his morning cup of coffee. Not many Captains would be up this early, but he was having trouble sleeping…perhaps because of the recent 'incidents' with the Iranians. It wasn't like they were just starting this up now. They had been bumping noses with American carrier battle groups since they first started patrolling in the Persian Gulf. Maybe it was this flu bug. He checked with the ship's doctor; there was nothing deadly about this strain, just more debilitating than the usual run of the mill flu. Still, the number of pilots who were down with this thing was a concern to him.

As he ruminated on what else might be bothering him and thus ruining his good night of sleep, a radio officer with a look of urgency approached him.

"Captain Ingles, sir?"

"What is it Petty Officer?" Captain Ingles could see the sailor was holding a folded letter.

"From Central Command, sir," he said simply. Ingles wondered if the Petty Officer had read it.

The Captain of the Patrick Henry acknowledged the Petty Officer and took the letter. He unfolded it and began reading. There were all the usual protocols at the top. He skimmed past them and began reading through the first paragraph. Enemy activity on the rise…insurgent attacks on the increase south of Najaf…. Then his eyes stuck on the first sentence of the second paragraph. He read it again just to make sure his mind wasn't playing tricks on him.

"Officer of the deck!" he barked.

The snarl in his voice was so unexpected that the young Lieutenant almost snapped to attention.

"Yes sir!"

Tobias Ingles wasn't about to apologize for that. Right now he had bigger things weighing on his mind; like the contents of this letter. "Get the Air Boss and the Mini-Boss up here on the double!"

"Aye, aye, sir!"

The Lieutenant hurriedly grabbed the ship's public address mike and spoke into it. "Air Boss and Mini-Boss! Report to the bridge! Air Boss and Mini-Boss! Report to the bridge immediately!"

-TBC…


	73. Chapter 72

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 72

Shark Two

Somewhere NW of Mirbullah

Mac's unit was making good time through the brush and scrub of this arid countryside.

The Light Colonel checked her official orders again. Darcy was using the original waypoints and the original objective route as defined by Colonel Briggs. She sensed that if Darcy were .going to try something, it would be soon.

The Leader of Shark Two looked over and noticed that Kayce was shaking her head disgustedly. She looked up at Mac when she noticed her staring. "The Black Widow was right ma'am,"

"About?" Mac replied, her curiosity piqued.

Kayce looked out the passenger window of the truck. "Walking point, or in this case, ma'am, riding point, equals sniper bait."

"Ebbits' law number one oh nine," Don said as he negotiated yet another rocky slope.

"Come again?" Mac said, still confused by what they meant.

"The Lieutenant had a set of laws that he used to keep us out of trouble…" Don began to explain.

"…And to explain some of the situations we came across, like the one we faced yesterday." Kayce finished for him.

"You mean when we can came across that mine field…"

"Yes ma'am," Kayce replied.

Don gave the Colonel a brief smile before turning his attention back to his driving. "Ebbit's law number twenty one; 'the easy way is always mined'."

Mac smiled faintly, remembering that Bosnia Force Recon leader, Captain Falls, telling her about similar 'laws'. She looked down at her GPS unit. "We've reached our next waypoint Corporal, pull over here."

The three vehicle convoy pulled off onto the shoulder of the rutted and rocky trail. They were on the reverse slope of a brush-covered hill. As the rest of Shark Two formed a defensive perimeter, Mac motioned to Sergeant Dallas. "Take Danvers and Stallings to the crest of the hill and see if you can spot anything,"

"Aye, aye, ma'am; Danvers, Stallings, let's go."

The three Force Recon Marines hustled up to the crest of the rocky hill. As Mac watched them crawl to the top of the slope, she heard Evan Mickens, who was the rear guard, call out.

"Colonel! We got company!"

Everyone stationed around the three vehicles dove for cover. Corporal Willet in the tail end pickup truck hurriedly climbed into its bed and cocked the pedestal mounted .50 caliber machinegun, aiming it back down the trail.

Mac and Gunny hustled to the tail end truck, joining Mickens who was lying beside the vehicle.

Mac focused her binoculars back down the trail to where Mickens was pointing. She couldn't see anything.

"It was there a moment ago ma'am. I saw it; a vehicle shadowing us…." replied the Force Recon Scout.

Victor Galindez looked up at Willet who was still manning the machine gun.

"Do you see anything?"

Eddie swallowed and nodded as he trained his weapon on the target. "Check Master Guns; gotta smoking vehicle off to our nine o'clock making its way slowly the same direction we're heading, on a parallel course."

"Have they spotted us yet?" hissed Victor.

I don't think so, Master Guns. They're raising a lot of smoke…."

Mac moved her binoculars in the direction Willet indicated. Now she could see it; a pretty banged up Dodge pickup that looked suspiciously like one of theirs. What was more troubling to her was that all the windows that were visible were starred and cracked.

"Who the hell is that?" wondered Evan aloud.

He cut a quick glance over to Mac. "Sorry ma'am, I didn't mean to say 'hell',"

Mac gave him a quick annoyed look. "Do I look like a flower to you, Mickens? If you throw some salty words at me, I guarantee you I will not wilt. Besides you only said what I was going to say…"

"Yes ma'am." Mickens said grinning sheepishly.

"What should we do, Colonel?" asked Victor.

"We've got to find out who it is and what they are doing out here."

Victor turned around and motioned to Sergeant Szymas. Casmir Szymas nodded and motioned for 'Lance Criminal' Crockett to follow him. He noticed that Burges and Williams had climbed into the beds of their trucks and were now tracking the vehicle with their pedestal mounted machineguns as well.

Mac watched as Szymas and Crockett slowly, carefully made their way toward the slow moving truck.

Whoever was driving was obviously putting all their concentration to the task at hand and not paying any attention at all to a possible ambush. Mac could see the truck was really beginning to smoke. She wondered if it was going to burst into flame.

Szymas and Crockett were now fairly close to whomever it was. Mac saw Szymas give her the hand signal indicating it was a friendly and not an insurgent vehicle.

Mac, though, was still wary. Darcy was a trained killer. This could be a trap. Still, there was little she could do to warn her two Recon Marines.

The smoking Dodge pickup's engine burped and coughed, causing the truck to lurch to a halt. Szymas and Crockett, using two man search method, approached the now silent vehicle.

Szymas yanked the door open and smoke billowed out of the cab. He reached in and pulled a seemingly unconscious Force Recon Marine from the truck and laid him on the ground.

"It's Corporal Flemminger, Colonel!" Called out Casmir Szymas. "He's hurt pretty bad!"

"He's been shot Colonel!" reported 'Lance Criminal' Crockett as Szymas attended to Flemminger. "And his truck's been chewed up pretty good too!"

Multi-National Division – Central [MND-C]

Camp November, 12th Szczecin Mechanized Division

Near al-Diwaniyah, Iraq

Pulkownik (Colonel) Luisa Baranova gave a 'thumbs up' sign to Porucznik (1st Lieutenant) Tomaz Wawrzyniak and Podporucznik (2nd Lieutenant) Stefan Jodlowski as their Mil-24 W 'Hind' helicopter gunships rose from the camp's airstrip and flew off into the brightening Iraqi sky.

Standing with her, Kapitan Stanislaus Chirdorz watched as the pair of Polish gunships disappeared into the distance, headed in the direction of Mirbullah.

"You know of course, Colonel, that Colonel Briggs will be most displeased with you," Stanislaus said as he kept looking at the now empty sky. There was a smile on the Captain's face.

"Why Captain Chirdorz, I can't believe you would accuse me of such a thing," Luisa said with mock indignation. "After all, *I* didn't send them to provide Close Air Support to Colonel Briggs' unit. *They* are merely out on patrol in the same area. If they just *happen* to be there when the American Marines need support, I would call that good fortune."

"Absolutely Colonel," Stanislaus said with a perfectly neutral face. "Good fortune."

They stood quietly for a few moments watching the last of the stars fade as the sun began to fill the horizon.

"Captain, what do you say we take the unit for a morning exercise? You know, to get their blood pumping…."

The younger Polish officer turned and smiled at his senior officer. "I would say that is an excellent idea, Colonel."

"I thought you might." Luisa said, turning and mirroring his smile.

"May I inquire as to our destination, Colonel?" Stanislaus had been her best ally since they were deployed to Iraq.

"Oh, let's just keep it a surprise, shall we, Captain?" Luisa said with a twinkle in her eye.

"As you wish, Colonel; by your leave-" Captain Chirdorz started to salute and head over to the unit's barracks.

However, Luisa Baranova was not finished with her orders. "But do tell them, Captain, that we will be in the heart of insurgent territory, so I want everyone to treat this as combat mission."

He smiled again and nodded his agreement with her 'suggestion'. "Understood Colonel."

GATORFORCE TWO

Forward Area of the Battle (FEBA), Northeast of Mirbullah

As the dense white smoke from Fuller's LAVs of GATORFORCE TWO blanketed the area in front of them, both recon teams and their vehicles fell back. At the same time, Lieutenant Pope's Combined Anti-Armor Teams surged forward taking their place.

"Pick your targets! We got plenty to choose from!" Barked Pope as he switched his rifle to semi-auto and began firing at the insurgent's trench line. "Fire teams! Sustained grazing fire on those trenches!"

As Ralph Pope's riflemen began firing toward the insurgent lines, two squads lead by Sergeant Yancy Berry and Corporal Anson Brick moved into position on either side of Pope's men. One group set up a missile on a tripod mount. The other had one shouldered a launching tube that looked like a bazooka.

"Corporal!" Sergeant Berry barked "Does your man have the target!"

"Aye Sergeant! We do!"

"Then fire at will!"

"On the way!"

Before al-Sahood's men could react, both teams fired their Javelin Anti-Tank Guided Missiles and their Shoulder Launched Multi-Purpose Assault Weapons (SMAWs) at the blockhouses and a just spotted concrete bunker. The blockhouse crews had, up to this point, thought they had defeated the American Marines. That smug superiority disappeared in the flash of two detonating thermobaric 83mm rounds which immolated them. The previously unseen concrete bunker crumbled as the Javelin anti-tank missile buried itself in it's the roof and exploded.

Thick black smoke covered the hillside as unused rounds from the 45mm guns in the burning blockhouses and 120mm mortar rounds from the smoking bunker detonated, obliterating any trace of the buildings.

GATORFORCE ONE

FEBA, Somewhere Northeast of Mirbullah

The Predator reconnaissance drones were late. As the battle continued unabated to their south, Sergeant Sewett, NCOIC of Rover Three decided they needed to find out just how tough the front line was in this sector.

Standing in the hatch of his LAV, he motioned to 'Arif (Corporal) Rafid T'lass who slowly moved his Bronirovannaya Razvedivatelnaya Dozornaya Mashina (BRDM) reconnaissance vehicle up to the tree line.

For Rafid, this wasn't anything like driving a TR-77 main battle tank, but then being a former Republican Guard soldier, he was lucky to be involved at all, much less commanding an armored reconnaissance vehicle. 'Arif T'lass did not like crossing into this field. He was certain that if it wasn't mined, then it most likely was protected by insurgent strongholds. He stood up in his hatch and looked over at his friend, Khalil As'sam, as he led a dismounted patrol out into the sorghum field. He hoped Allah was watching over them.

Ra'is (Sergeant) As'sam felt odd being in combat without the armor of tank wrapped around him. Still he was glad Ra'id (Captain) Azeri had recommended them to Ra'id Muhaim, the head of this reconnaissance unit. Safid Muhaim was a member of the rebuilt Iraqi Army and the recently formed 4th Brigade. Safid was a practical man; he knew that both Rafid and Khalil would be an asset to the fledging mechanized unit. So he put the two former Republican Guard tankers into his reconnaissance unit.

Khalil motioned to his squad to hold their positions. He looked back at the Marine fire team disembarking from Rover One and making their way toward them.

Rafid's gunner kept his 14.5mm KPV heavy machine gun trained just ahead of Rover One's scout team. Ra'is Tariq moved his BRDM-2, mounting four Konkurs ATGMs, so that it could cover both the LAV and the BRDM-2 recon car. Supporting them was Ra'is Hammami's Mnogotselevoi Tyagach-Legko Bronirovanniy (MT-LB) personnel carrier and his squad.

Corporal Vick Dremmond led his scout team out into the tall fields of sorghum. His assistant, Corporal Rick Bauer, brought up the rear of the team, keeping occasional eye contact with Rover One, and the Iraqi recon vehicles.

To their right, Corporal Jon Dillman was inching his vehicle forward, trying to keep the Iraqi and Marine scout teams in sight. Nerves combined with fatigue caused Dillman's foot to slip, making his HMMWV weapons carrier break cover.

The sudden appearance of the AM General M-1097 weapons carrier's front end sticking out of the tree line was all the insurgents needed as a viable target. The rattle of small arms fire was punctuated by the chatter of a heavier machine gun.

Realizing what had happened, Corporal Dillman threw the Hum-Vee into reverse and stomped on the accelerator, throwing up divots of grass and ramming the weapons carrier back into the tree line. The rest of the Iraqi-Marine recon unit opened fire in the direction of the insurgent gunfire, hoping to make them take cover. They succeeded and unknown to them, they also threw off the aim of the OT-64's ATGM gunner.

The Sagger missile wobbled erratically as it headed in the general direction of Dillman's weapons carrier, the missile gunner either having been wounded or killed by the gunfire from Khalil and Vick's soldiers.

"SAGGER!" Vick Dremmond yelled above the roar of the ongoing battle. "TAKE IT OUT BEFORE IT GETS TO THE VEHICLES!"

The Iraqi and American soldiers dove to ground level, each one hoping and praying the errant missile wouldn't find them instead. All begin firing toward the bobbling guided missile.

Dillman's gunner fired off a long rippling burst from their HMMWV's .50 caliber machine gun in a final desperate effort to detonate the missile before it could find a target. Arif T'lass's gunner joined the fusillade, providing cover fire for Dremmond's Marines and As'sam's Scouts.

The Sagger missile, hammered by .50 caliber and 14.5 millimeter bullets, finally began to shred under the punishment. As the ATGM began to lose its structural integrity, it detonated, spraying the area with molten metal fragments.

Jon Dillman's Hum-Vee was spared anything other superficial damage, being protected by a canopy of date trees and a pile of underbrush. Dremmond and his Marines, however, weren't as lucky.

Vick grunted as hot searing metal lanced into his legs. He fought the urge to scream in agony while praying that the deadly 'rainfall' was over. By the time he started checking his injuries; Corporal Bauer had made his way over to him.

"Take it easy Vick," replied Bauer, as he tore open what was left of the man's trousers and began sprinkling anti-burn powder over the ghastly burns on Dremmond's legs.

Vick grabbed his assistant's arm. "Don't worry about me, Rick; it's your team now! Take care of them!"

Rick nodded in grim agreement. "Simmons! You and Berkhaulter give us cover fire!"

"Aye, aye Corporal!" Simmons barked as he and the other PFC began firing again at the insurgent positions.

Khalil As'sam hustled over to the two men. Without saying a word, Khalil threw Dremmond's right arm over his shoulder as Rick grabbed his left arm. Before Vick could say anything they began moving him away from the battle, deeper into the crops.

The explosion had signaled another apex in the fight for these farm fields, and now once again, only scattered small arms fire could be heard. But that relative calm was merely illusory. Arif (Corporal)Tariq's and Arif Saad's gunners had spotted the hull down insurgent personnel carrier that had fired at them and now a pair of Konkurs missiles were headed toward the target.

Rover 3's NCOIC, Kyle Sewett, saw this as the best opportunity to rescue As'sam and Dremmond's men.

"Gunner! AP and HE on that APC!"

"On the way Sergeant!" Snapped the gunner.

"Danny! Let's go get our scouts!"

Aye, aye, Sergeant!

Rover three's 25 millimeter chain gun began pumping rounds towards the Czech-built (Stredni Kolovy) Obreny Transporter (OT-64). But Sewett's LAV only made it a third of the way out to the Marines and Iraqi scouts before sustained fire from the insurgent APC and its two adjacent concrete pillboxes forced a battered Rover three to back away under a cloud of protective smoke.

His aborted charge was succeeded by Ra'is (Sergeant) Hammami's MT-LB dashing in and banging opening its rear doors next to the stunned soldiers at the same time as the Iraqi unit's only operational BMP executed the exact same maneuver.

The bang of the visible insurgent APC exploding was the signal. Working together while dodging insurgent incoming Sagger missiles, the crews and scouts aboard the MT-LB and the BMP personnel carriers helped Corporal Bauer and Ra'is As'sam get their men out of the enemy's range.

As Arif Tariq and Arif Saad's BRDMs avoided being hit by the Sagger missile counter-fire, the Iraqi MT-LB and BMP pulled back under the protective cover of the smoke with their rescued Marines and Iraqi soldiers.

But the rescue operation was not without cost. Three of Hussein's men were badly wounded by sniper fire. This, added to the wounds of Bauer, Simmons and Berkhaulter plus Dremmond's injuries brought the number of wounded on the Coalition's side of the battlefield to eleven.

'Hawk One' Sergeant DeWald was not happy. "Where the hell is our mortar support Corporal Roca?"

The forward observer for the mortar unit looked up from his radio and at DeWald. "The Lieutenant said he's almost in position, Sergeant."

Stephen DeWald grunted. He wanted to tell Dye to get 'into position' a little faster, but it's kind of hard for a three-striper Sergeant to tell a First Lieutenant what to do. If Dye were a Second Lieutenant, it would be a little easier….

He shifted his gaze to his ANGLICO liaison. "Yamura, tell me you have some good news,"

Kevin Yamura smiled. "How about a pair of Harriers courtesy of Colonel Briggs?"

DeWald was flabbergasted. "The Colonel released them?"

Yamura, a Hilo native, nodded. "He sure did, Sergeant; they're inbound now."

Shark Two

Somewhere North of Mirbullah

"He's shot up pretty bad, Colonel." Szymas reported as he continued working on the badly wounded Force Recon soldier, "I don't know how he got as far as he did."

"Cole Flemminger's got an iron constitution, ma'am." Staff Sergeant Dallas replied, "I'm not surprised he made it this far."

"What I want to know, Staff Sergeant," Mac said as she watched Sergeant Szymas continue to work, "is why someone shot him."

"Either he got in the line of fire, or saw something he shouldn't have, Colonel" replied Kayce.

"That's what I figured, Corporal" Mac said grimly. She looked over at the Staff Sergeant. "What are the odds of this being a test?"

"About 70/30, ma'am."

The Light Colonel heaved a labored sigh. "That's what I figured."

She squatted next to Casmir. "Just how bad is it?"

"He's lost a lot of blood, I've stopped the bleeding, but he also needs more cleaning up," The Sergeant disgustedly tossed an empty package into the sand. "And I'm out of alcohol and disinfectant."

Mac looked over at Kayce. "Corporal; go back to our truck and get my rucksack."

"Aye Colonel," Kayce Danvers began sprinting back towards the unit's pickup trucks.

In a few minutes the Corporal returned with the rucksack and handed it to Mac. "Here you go ma'am."

Mac opened the sack as she squatted again next to Szymas and Flemminger. Without a word, she pulled out the vodka bottle Colonel Livingston had given her and handed it to the stunned Sergeant.

The Light Colonel fought the urge to take the bottle away from the Sergeant as he quickly opened it up and began pouring it on the Corporal's dirt and wounds.

The thirst for a drink was still there even though she hadn't had one since 1997. Mac knew as a recovering alcoholic that the hunger would always be there. She was glad Szymas was pouring most of it onto Flemminger.

Crockett watching what was happening leaned over to Kayce. "Aw Kayce, that's some good hooch. She shouldn't waste it like that…."

Kayce gave him a dirty look. "So we just let Cole die of an infection, Lance Criminal?"

"Crap!" Muttered Szymas as he began to hurriedly check a bandage already in place.

"You're losing him," Mac intoned flatly.

Szymas looked up at the Light Colonel and saw the look in her eyes. He nodded.

"Stand back," Mac ordered to the Sergeant.

Dallas and the others stood back from Flemminger.

Mac unholstered her sidearm and flipped off the safety. After cocking it, she fired once at the body.

Mac called back to Mark Dallas. "How did that look, Staff Sergeant?"

Mark Dallas had to fight the urge to smile. "Like you blew his head off, ma'am."

Concealed on a nearby rise, Captain Lewis lowered his binoculars. "Looks like Darcy picked a good one this time…." He said to himself.

Gibbs motioned to Tony. "Sound check, testing one, two…."

Tony nodded that his earpiece was working properly. In reality, he was surprised he could hear Gibbs at all inside this rolling noisemaker.

The silver haired NCIS Agent flipped a switch on his master radio set. "Juliet 4; do you copy?"

The burst of static emanating from Gibbs' headset was only momentary. "Loud and clear, November 1." Came back Faith's voice.

One of the younger MP's gave Tony a perplexed look. "Don't you trust our radio equipment, sir?"

Tony turned and gave the young Corporal one of his winning smiles. "We're not going to be with you the whole time, Corporal; we have to split up to find these bad guys, so we need an independent radio net to keep in touch with each other."

He didn't mention the more important fact that Darcy and her henchmen had probably already compromised the Battalion radio network.

The young MP nodded his understanding, but his face betrayed his doubts about Tony's explanation.

Gibbs meanwhile was still checking his equipment. "Sergeant Canella, do you copy?"

The MP Detachment Sergeant acknowledged his request. "I copy Gibbs."

The silver haired Head of the Washington, DC Major Case Response Team turned off the radio set for the moment, but he didn't settle back and relax. No, there was too much at stake to start getting comfortable now.

The battle with members of al-Sahood's unit had already started in the farm fields they were headed for; word had just filtered down via the Battalion radio net about this. Gibbs knew that if they didn't find Darcy's moles soon, there would be a lot more Marines coming home in body bags.

USS Patrick Henry

Harm's Tomcat banged down for a landing on the asphalt and steel deck of the Patrick Henry followed by Supergirl's plane.

"Bravo Zulu Echo Two One…." Came the laconic reply from the tower.

"Thank you Liberty Control," The Commander replied smiling wryly as he powered down the throbbing engines of the massive fighter-bomber. Multicolored, jersey-shirted crews swarmed over the plane as the two men unbuckled themselves from their seats.

"Great job Hammer," replied the crew chief, helping the pilot out of the cockpit.

Harm was enjoying this. He had really missed it. It was probably why he took every opportunity he could get to fly. There was just nothing like it. He was aglow in the jokes and accolades the crew shared with him and Gibbons. Then he saw the Air Boss standing across the way. His stance and the look on his face told Harm something had happened.

"Boss?"

The response was terse. "Meet the CAG and the Captain in the Ready Room on the double, Commander."

Harm snapped off a salute in response. "Aye, aye, Sir."

The Chief Petty Officer in charge of the Ordnance crew swiftly moved past the lawyer-pilot.

"Get this bird gassed up and armed with LGBs and CBUs! ASAP! Let's move!"

Harm and Pete exchanged questioning glances with Nicole and Jeff as they made their way to the Ready Room.

The CAG looked up as Harm made his way into the room. He had been conferring with Captain Ingles who had a stony look on his face. Behind them, Commander Aldridge and Captain Seranovich were looking at a set of stapled papers. Arnie was making quick notes on a notepad. Their faces, if Harm wasn't mistaken, looked ashen.

"Take a seat Commanders," requested the CAG. Nicole and Harm quickly took their seats. Harm shot a quick questioning glance at Nicole who gave a quick shake of her head indicating she didn't know what was up either.

Captain Ingles talked a few more minutes with the CAG and the JAG officers. He then walked up and picked up the wireless keyboard that was sitting on the table at the front of the room.

He cleared his throat and nodded to the assembled group of pilots. "Okay ladies and gentlemen, this is what we have been waiting for. As of 0320 local, Marine Force Recon elements of the 36th Marine Expeditionary Unit confirmed what had long been suspected; the Fedayeen and Al-Qaeda have been preparing a little surprise for US and Coalition forces near the Sunni Triangle.

At a nod, the lights dimmed revealing several satellite images, each one a little more distinct than the previous. Over to the side of these pictures was an image of Central Iraq showing the same map Harm had seen in the Pentagon briefing the other day on ZNN. Only this one showed the exact locations of the enemy forces. To the right side of the image was a presentation done with one of those presentation programs. The graphics were flashy, but it still told the same story:

'Operation King Cobra

July 11, 2003 - July 17, 2003

Operation King Cobra is an adjunct operation of Operation Desert Scorpion. It will be conducted in central Iraq from 11 July to 17 July 2003.

During the operation, Task Force Makin and the 4th Infantry Division (4th ID[M]) are tasked to secure Highways 8 and 2 north of Al Nasiriyah from Ba'ath attacks against coalition and other civilian traffic.

Coalition and Iraqi Civil Defense Corps troops have located a large ammunition and weapons cache north of the town of Mirbullah.

USS Patrick Henry, USS Reprisal and USS SeaHawk will provide air cover for the 36th MEU's assault on the weapons and ammunition cache. USS Oriskany will provide supplementary cover for the operation and act as an air reserve.'

Harm tried to follow the rest but his mind was swimming. He heard the murmurs of the other pilots and RIOs in the room. Captain Ingles held up his hands to quiet the room.

"Marine Force Recon has confirmed that our buddies of Saddam have pulled together an impressive set of armor, north of Mirbullah… yes Lieutenant?"

Harm could tell the voice was at the back of the room. It sounded like one of the new RIOs. "Sir, I thought all the Fedayeen and Al-Qaeda had were AT weapons, some small arms, IEDs, and technicals…."

Ingles gave a wry smile for the first time since the briefing began. "Well Lieutenant, they've been busy beavers…." nervous chuckles rippled through the room.

Now the CAG took over. "The bad guys have pulled together a few tanks and apcs…" he paused for effect and scanned the room "Along with a few SCUD and FROG missiles."

Nicole looked over at Harm who had the same look of shock on his face. Webb's intel was right on the money. He'd have to talk to that spook later to find out how he knew….

Work in the underground garage in the Iraqi battalion defensive position was at fever pitch. Engines coughed and turned over, raising clouds of blue smoke. Soldiers dug into the guts of engines trying to figure why some of these rickety vehicles wouldn't start. The noise and confusion died down as a large group of men moved to the front of the room. As one they knelt and began praying. Out of respect for these warriors about to face certain death, the engineers and mechanics kept quiet.

After a few minutes of prayer, Samir al-Sahood, Hamid al-Harib and his assembled men stood. Samir turned to address the crowd.

"Death, shame and disgrace to the enemies of Islam. Our mission in Falls Church has disrupted the efforts of the American Navy's Judge Advocate General against our cell here in Iraq. Now we have a greater opportunity…to strike terror into the heart of the American forces occupying Mirbullah…."

The CAG's voice brought Harm out of his ruminations. "…now whether they bought them outright on the black market, or stole them from impound lots, or they just had them hidden until the time was right is not our concern."

"Our concern is to make sure they don't get the chance to use them. We're not sure of the particulars yet, but we know they have at least four or five tanks and at least that many personnel carriers."

"So ladies and gents; our job is to move the mud and sand around to help out the Grunts…."

"The American 36th Marine Expeditionary Unit is vulnerable to a lightning assault and rocket attack…. You will assemble your suicide squads and have them pose as Iraqi Army soldiers mounted in specially fitted personnel carriers…."

GATORFORCE Assembly Area

The M-1A1s' gas turbine engines whined piercingly, belching out a huge clouds of blue/grey exhaust into the humid early morning air almost in unison with the other tanks in Slugger platoon. 2nd Lieutenant Hank Borden, CO of Slugger platoon, held himself steady as Slugger 4 lurched forward.

Behind Borden, gears rattled, slack links in the tracks snatched taught as the armored column stirred into life and headed towards Staff Sergeant Fuller's embattled recon unit.

"What about air defenses, CAG?" asked another voice. Harm was pretty sure that was Dan Phelps, a former Forward Air Control officer from the Sunni Triangle area.

The CAG shook his iron grey head. "None that intel can detect, but you know what I think of that kind of intel." Nervous chuckles again rippled through the room. "They've got anti-air of some type and I want you guys going in under the assumption they are armed to the teeth."

"After the suicide attacks we will finish the unit off with a rocket attack…."

"You'll leave the Henry and form up at rendezvous point Texas. From Texas you'll head over Basra en route to point Colorado. From Colorado, you go to contact point Wyoming and into holding area Montana. When the Forward Air Controller from the 36th gives you the signal, you are to take out your assigned targets…."

"The rockets we are using were acquired from our traitorous Iraqi brethren who fled the initial American assault in March…."

"Commander Rabb; your call sign will remain Eagle. Harm, you'll be Eagle 21; Nicole Eagle 22; and so on."

"And Commander; your abort code is Delta Bravo. The response from the terminal controller will be Romeo. If you receive 'Romeo' from the controller, head back to Montana and stay on station until you are relieved. There will be a refueling tanker waiting at Montana."

"Your squadron is the vanguard for an Alpha Strike. Once your squadron eliminates the enemy armor and the TELs, strike forces from Seahawk and Patrick Henry and Reprisal will concentrate on eliminating the remaining enemy ground troops and there will be a cell of BUFFs and Lancers from Diego Garcia on standby…"

"Man, an alpha strike…." Another one of the pilots hissed. Harm couldn't tell whose voice it was. At the moment, it was hard to distinguish anything. Harm's mind had reeled back to his first JAG assignment when he was on board the SeaHawk and an Alpha Strike was ordered.

His reverie was pierced by the next voice and the CAG's response.

"Why are the BUFFs and Lancers needed, CAG?"

"They are to eliminate Objective India as a viable enemy strongpoint."

Samir stood looking at the men. They were young, eager and determined. He was pleased so many were willing to die for the cause. The local mullah, who Samir had not yet learned the name of, raised his hands as he looked at the soldiers.

"God has granted us the opportunity to avenge the Iraqi faithful by using the weapons developed in our labs in Afghanistan to destroy this unit, and force the Infidels to flee our lands in terror…."

-TBC...


	74. Chapter 73

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 73

South of the Forward Edge of Battle Area (FEBA)

Northeast of Mirbullah

Porucznik (1st Lieutenant) Tomaz Wawrzyniak scanned the countryside roaring past underneath them. It must have been beautiful countryside at one time, now it was mostly brown and scarred with barren gullies with patches of green indicating a farm that was still being irrigated. Unfortunately those that were green were probably owned by Saddam's Baathist sympathizers.

'There must be close to fifty farms out here, every one of them a potential ambush site.' He muttered to himself. The danger of attracting fire from a heavy machinegun or man-portable SAM was not lost on him. Tomaz and the other pilots in his unit had been instructed about the weapons the insurgents could use to bring down their helos. They had studied films of insurgent tactics that showed just how devastatingly effective even a light machinegun could be when used the right way.

He looked over at his wingman's gunship.

Stefan Jodlowski was pointing at something. "Lieutenant," called out his pilot at nearly the same time, "I believe we have found the American Marine reconnaissance unit."

Tomaz turned back to see several columns of heavy black smoke rising from the fields of crops on the horizon. Just to the south of that, he could see a platoon of M1 tanks in line formation headed toward the smoke.

Tomaz spoke into his throat mike as he tapped his pilot on the shoulder. "We'll follow those tanks, gunners; take your weapons off safety."

Stefan looked over at him and nodded. Both men's gunships began to descend.

Shark Two

Mac looked at the badly damaged Dodge pickup. It was clear that Darcy and her men hadn't meant for Corporal Flemminger to come out of this alive. They hadn't counted Mac finding him or Sergeant Szymas and Doc Yader being been able to stabilize him.

But then, according to Jac, Mac had 'killed' Flemminger. So they couldn't know…unless someone else told them. Someone else in her unit. Mac shivered inwardly at that thought.

So far her team had been 100% behind her. But then again, maybe Darcy's cohorts were just waiting for the right opportunity…or the right signal.

"Ma'am?" It was Kayce. "We're ready to move out."

The Light Colonel nodded. "Do you think anyone in this unit can unfoxtrot this truck, Corporal? We could use the extra vehicle."

Kayce look in askance at the still smoldering Dodge. "It's tango uniform, ma'am, I really wouldn't worry about it. In about thirty minutes after we leave, the local Bedouins will have stripped it of anything useful."

'Tango Uniform' meant a lot of things; in this particular case it meant Flemminger's pickup was unsalvageable as a running vehicle.

Mac gave her a wry smile. "Then we should salvage anything useful on it that we might need."

Kayce nodded. "Aye, aye, ma'am." The Corporal looked over at Lance Corporal Crockett and jerked her head in the direction of the truck.

"C'mon, Lance Criminal; you and I just volunteered to scavenge anything useful from this wreck."

While Kayce and Crockett began looking at the .50 caliber machinegun. Mac walked over to Doc Yader and 'Master Guns' Galindez. Both men stopped their conversation when she approached.

She gave the men a winsome smile. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I, gentlemen?"

Victor gave her a small smile in return. "No ma'am; the Doc here was just confirming what we had first thought. All the bullets extracted from Flemminger were American in origin."

"So they didn't even think anyone would check…." She said aloud, more to herself than to either of them.

"No ma'am, they didn't." Yader piped up. "They figured the Bedouins would strip and discard the truck and any bodies in it."

"Just another casualty in the desert," the Light Colonel said grimly.

Both men nodded at her assessment.

Victor sighed and looked at the angle of the sun in early morning sky. "Colonel, not wanting to tell you what to do, ma'am, but shouldn't we get going toward our objective?"

Mac was ready for his comment. "I can you tell now, Master Guns, what I couldn't tell you before; our real mission according to Darcy, is to act as recon for her teams. We're supposed to hook up with al-Sahood's unit first."

"And we're *supposed* to be on SCUD hunt mission…" Yader said distastefully.

"We were supposed to be doing recon, according to Colonel Livingston; until *I* came along," Mac said as she motioned for them to follow her. "However, I know a way we can serve two masters at once…."

"Here comes tin leaf," snorted Tim Bullard to Staff Sergeant Reynolds as Mac, Victor and Doc Yader made their way back toward Don Burges' truck.

Leonard flashed Bullard quick scowl, "Knock it off, you dope," he growled to the younger enlisted man. "Is that bomb ready to go off?"

Tim glared at the Staff Sergeant. "All I have to do is push this and blooey! No more Eddie. Is that good enough for you?" He challenged. Bullard pulled out what looked like a credit card sized calculator and showed it to Reynolds as evidence of his handiwork.

Leonard motioned for him to conceal it again. "You just make sure when Darcy gives the signal that this thing of yours works," he whispered as Mac and the others got closer to them.

0540 Zulu

Operation King Cobra

Persian Gulf

Harm looked over at Nicole's plane as he spoke into his radio mike. "Eagle squadron, this is Eagle 21; feet dry in fifteen."

The aviator/lawyer listened as the members of his squadron responded to his report.

The Iranian Il-76 AWACS that had been shadowing them had veered off when a flight of

F-18s tried to intercept it. He was obviously reporting back to local air defense units in the area about the large number of American aircraft headed for Basra. Eagle squadron, though, would be feet dry before the Iranians had a chance to scramble any aircraft to investigate.

Most likely there would be some kind of diplomatic protest filed about not forewarning them about this American airstrike. But that was precisely the point; those who needed to be informed had been.

Harm looked down and saw the coastline rush underneath his plane. "Eagle 21; feet dry."

FEBA (Forward Edge of Battle Area)

Northeast of Mirbullah

JAVELIN flight leveled out and began its approach when a radio report crackled in their ears.

"Javelin Oh One, this is Gator Base. Be advised; two Polish Hind gunships are in your sector. They say they are on routine patrol, over."

1st Lieutenant Abner Scott, leader of the flight of AV-8B Harrier jets, nodded. "I copy, Gator Base. We'll give them a friendly wave as we go past. Javelin Oh One out."

"Hey Lieutenant," It was Scott's wingman, 2nd Lieutenant Keith Price. "What do you think the Poles are doing up here?"

"A show of support from our Polish allies, Keith" Abner replied sardonically. "My guess is that Old Man Briggs isn't going to be thrilled to hear they're in the area."

"There they are; two o'clock low." Price called out.

Abner Scott looked down and saw the two Hind gunships were flying at tree top level better known as 'Nap of the Earth'. Obviously, they were trying to find insurgent positions and point them out to Staff Sergeant Fuller's men.

Lieutenant Scott switched his radio to the Polish unit's frequency and began speaking in Polish. "Hind leader, this is Javelin Oh One, can we assist you, over?"

The response surprisingly was in flawless English. "Javelin Oh One, this is Hind leader; I have an insurgent bunker to my 12 o'clock that has pinned down several of your Marines. We can't get any closer and would gladly appreciate your assist, over."

Abner almost laughed out loud. Not only could the Polish officer talk a good game, he could play one too. By letting these Harriers 'assist' the Polish Hinds, they would actually be 'spotting' for the Marine Harriers.

And if anyone got bent out of shape about it, the Polish Hind commander would state that he was merely on routine patrol when he spotted a Marine reconnaissance unit in trouble. What was he supposed to do? Ignore them and continue on his patrol? Especially when he could lead the Marine Harriers right to their targets…

He'd have to buy that man a cold one after all this was over.

Abner Scott wheeled his Harrier over to the right and down toward the bunker. "Roger Wilco Hind leader. Javelin Oh One, rolling in hot, Javelin Oh Two, follow me in."

"Oh Two roger; following you in, Lil' Abner."

Abner keyed his radio back to the Polish frequency. "Okay Hind leader; tell me when I have them lined up…."

Shark One

Somewhere south of Shark Two's Position

Darcy Livingston studied her watch then looked over at her driver, 2nd Lieutenant Max Peterson, and motioned for him to stop.

Peterson nodded and pulled to the side of the dirt road they were on. The other pickups in her little ad-hoc unit did the same.

"Now we find out just how loyal you are, Cher," Darcy said causing Max to grin. She switched her radio on and spoke into her mike "Osprey One; engage Shark Two. Acknowledge."

The wait was brief. "Osprey One acknowledges," came back the gruff reply.

"…I've told people several things, ma'am; but the truth is, it's a spelling out of my first and middle name…."

Don smiled as he kept his eyes on the road.

"Okay, Danvers," Ronnie Logan, sitting in the back bench seat, was almost begging Corporal Danvers. "Now you gotta tell…."

Kayce looked to her CO for help, but Mac shook her head. "You started this, Corporal…"

"Yes ma'am." Kayce said, her voice a mixture of disgust and dejection "It's the initials for my first and middle name, Katherine Cecilia."

Don snorted to keep from laughing.

Corporal Logan's mouth popped open in surprise.

Mac smiled. "So Kayce came from…?"

"My kindergarten teacher didn't like children with just initials for names. So she spelled it out in the school attendance records. My Mom thought it was cute and since it was the first names of my mom and dad-"

"Wait don't tell us – Katherine and Cecil, right?" Vicky Logan blurted out in a moment of impulsiveness.

"No!" Kayce snapped with a hint of irritation. "Kay and Cedric. Let me finish, will ya?"

A chastened Logan nodded.

"Since it was the first names of my-"

"Colonel! SPOTREP!" It was Doc Yader, who was manning the vehicle's .50 caliber.

Don slammed on the braked and slewed to a skidding stop. The other two vehicles of Shark Two did the same.

Mac grabbed her radio mike. "What is it Corpsman?"

"Tire tracks in the hard sand just ahead of us! It's definitely an eight wheeler, ma'am!"

"You know for a Corpsman," groused Don as he pulled off the road. "He sure does know a lot about weapons and tactics…"

Mac though, wasn't listening. She was already talking to Master Guns Galindez on her radio. "Master Guns, we've got eight wheeler tire tracks to our front in the hard packed sand. What do you think?"

Victor's assessment was blunt. "I think we have an APC somewhere nearby and chances are, ma'am, they aren't friendly."

(Another challenge from Darcy?) She wondered. She keyed her radio. "My sentiments exactly, Master Guns…get Dallas and Corbin to form hunter-killer teams."

'Master Guns' Galindez responded immediately. "Aye, aye, Colonel; and tell Danvers we're gonna need her."

Mac looked over at Kayce who didn't need any further urging.

Kayce reached for her rifle as she got out of the truck. "Duty calls…"

Leonard Reynolds looked nervously at Mark Dallas and Joe Corbin as they formed their teams. He knew who was in that APC. This was their contact from al-Sahood who was supposed to lead them back to the insurgent leader's safe house. Or at least, that was the original plan.

Apparently the Light Colonel JAG didn't know that…or maybe Darcy didn't want her to know that. All he knew was that when Darcy gave him the signal, he was supposed get rid of Casmir Szymas and anyone else that stood in their way. He looked over at Tim Bullard. Very slowly, Tim drew the card-like device from his shirt pocket and palmed it.

Kayce adjusted the sights on her sniper rifle. She aimed her Barrett for the APC turret's center of mass. The Marine Recon sniper could tell that this was definitely a recently built Russian Brontransporter [BTR]. The vehicle was parked at an angle in front of a mud brick building that dominated this hill. She couldn't believe that they would be sloppy enough not to have sentries and yet, they didn't.

She watched as Staff Sergeant Corbin led Luke Calapango, Ronnie Logan, and Jim Stallings to the left of the building while Staff Sergeant Dallas, Arnie Bledsoe, Nate Peters, and Evan Mickens moved into position on the right side of the building.

Both Dallas and Corbin looked over at Kayce to make sure she had both of their groups covered. When she nodded to indicate that she did, Luke and Arnie scuttled up to the building's low open windows and tossed in their grenades.

The double concussion of the grenades shook the house and blew open the front door.

A couple wounded al-Qaeda soldiers stumbled out of the smoky interior, headed for the supposed safety of the BTR personnel carrier.

It was Kayce's job to disabuse them of that notion.

She lined up her sights and fired, sending a single .50 caliber armor piercing round into the turret of the carrier. The large caliber sniper rifle bullet damaged the sleeve of the carrier's KPV machine gun.

The two wounded men flinched when they heard the splang of the ricocheting bullet. One looked up, trying to determine where the shot had originated. The other lifted his AK-74 assault rifle and fired off a burst in Kayce's general direction. Then they resumed their staggering run toward the carrier.

Undeterred by the gunman's wild firing pattern, Kayce smoothly and methodically lined up the carrier again. This time, she was going to hole their fuel tank.

The Force Recon sniper fired, sending another .50 caliber round into the carrier. Only this time the bullet penetrated the thin side armor, glanced off the vehicle's gasoline tank, and struck a hastily stored RPG.

The term 'one in a million' shot could have easily applied here. As the RPG round detonated, it set off the suicide vests and explosives that had also been stored aboard the carrier.

The resulting explosion tore the turret off the hapless carrier and blew its hatches open. The force of the blast threw the two wounded terrorists backwards and caught Dallas and Corbin's' teams by surprise. Even Kayce found herself ducking for cover.

When the smoke cleared, the APC was a burning ruin. The two terrorists were flat on their backs, out cold.

Mark Dallas unsteadily stood up, looking from the burning wreck to Kayce, and back again. Joe Corbin and the others did the same. Arnie Bledsoe, still shaking his head, was the first to speak.

"Damn Danvers! Just what kind of ammo are you using?" He looked over at the fiercely burning BTR in disbelief. Kayce was about to respond when Joe Corbin interrupted her.

"That tears it!" growled Staff Sergeant Corbin. "If al-Qaeda didn't know we were here, they sure as hell know we are now!"

He motioned to Mark. "T-Shaped ambush position?

Mark Dallas nodded. "Modified T-shape, Joe.

"Staff Sergeant! Corporal Logan barked, "We've got more company coming!"

At that moment, Nate Peters' radio crackled, "Romeo Tango Two this is Sierra Six Mike; what the hell happened up there?"

Joe grabbed the mike "Sierra Six Mike; tango's APC went up like a roman candle when Kayce put a round into it, get ready for company!"

No sooner than the words were out of his mouth when Mac and the others heard the throaty grumble of multiple truck engines headed their way.

Corpsman Yader swung his .50 toward the noise as did Casmir Szymas aboard Sal William's pickup and Tim Bullard aboard Eddie Willet's truck.

"Wagon wheel defensive positions!" Mac barked as she took cover.

Seal Team Leader Brad May didn't know what to think. First, he watched in horror as Colonel MacKenzie 'killed' one of her own men and then her team turns around and blows up one up of al-Sahood's APCs. What the hell was going on here?

"Maybe they're going into business for themselves, Commander…." Coskill offered as he observed MacKenzie and her crew taking up defensive positions as al-Sahood's convoy approached.

"Your guess is as good as mine, Master Chief…" a bewildered May replied. He wondered what was going to happen next.

FEBA

Rover One's commander, Jay Raden, looked up at the sound of the high pitched whoosh that was filling the air above them. He could also hear a sound he hadn't expected to hear, the steady beat of rotors. ( Helos! Dammit!) He thought Briggs had grounded them! This was going to make things a lot more difficult….

As he scanned the sky, he saw one of the Hinds flash overhead. (What the! Those are Polish helos!)

"Rover Three to Rover One; Jay, do you see what I see!"

"I sure do Kyle!" Jay said, doing his best to feign enthusiasm. "Looks like Bullgator got us some air support!" Mentally, the Corporal was swearing up a storm and fearing what Darcy would think about this turn of events.

JAVELIN 01 and 02 streaked downward toward the protective cover of the underbrush and Date palms firing their rockets at a target pointed out by the Polish Hind Commander.

The ground around the slit trench (and yet another previously undiscovered concrete bunker with an insurgent gun crew which had been firing a Kyle Sewett and Jay Raden's LAVs) erupted in a shower of explosions.

As the smoke from the rocket attack began to clear, both Harriers streaked overhead, pulling out of their dives and heading for the early morning sun. Four elongated cases dropped loose from the planes as they soared back into clouds dotting the area. The cases wobbled and tumbled until they hit their targets. Upon impact they split open, spilling their contents – the result was a massive fireball which set the bunker and slit trench aflame. It only took moments for the superheated bunker to explode into shattered fragments. That explosion was matched by the detonation of a previously hidden OT-64 APC.

Evasive maneuvers! Tomaz Wawrzyniak snapped to his pilot as their Hind gunship skittered to the right, narrowly avoiding a chattering ZPU-4 anti-aircraft machine gun.

Smashing his way through the underbrush, engineering tank of Gunnery Sergeant Andrew Dyess, better known as Bulldog Three, approached Staff Sergeant Fuller's position. He could see that Fuller's LAVs and the Iraqi cohorts were being squeezed by the insurgents. Clearly these guys had well prepared positions. He was glad his CO, Hank Borden, had agreed to let him talk to the 4th Infantry divisional engineers. They were definitely going to need these 'borrowed' combat engineering vehicles.

2nd Lieutenant Hank Borden, riding in Slugger Four immediately behind Bulldog Three, looked up through a break on the canopy to watch as the Hind wheeled around and headed back toward the ZPU, Gatling guns blazing. He could also see the second Hind firing at another hidden target.

With the Poles providing Fuller's LAVs with some much needed air support, Hank gambled that the insurgents would be too distracted to anticipate the Marines' next move.

"Gunny!" Hank said barking into his CVC mike. "Time to show these guys what else we've got up our sleeves!"

"You got it, Lieutenant!" Andrew switched his radio to the local vehicle net. "C'mon Al, let's mow some grass!"

Zack Fuller, NCOIC of Rover platoon, kept his vehicle's FN 7.92mm machine gun rattling away, trying to keep the insurgents from launching another volley of Sagger missiles.

His crew was trying to clear a jam in the autocannon's carousel gun carriage; otherwise the LAV would still be sending rounds into the identified trench line. Seeing that Fuller was in trouble, an Iraqi BRDM pulled up alongside and added its firepower. Zack was glad for the help.

"We've cleared the jam!" reported the LAV's loader.

"Gunner! HE on the trench line! Don't give'em a chance to raise their heads!"

"Aye, aye, Staff Sergeant! On the way!"

As Rover Four and Rover Two's 25mm autocannons raked the trench line and fortifications in front of them, Zack could hear the thumping and crashing of falling vegetation to his rear. Not wanting to take his eyes off the enemy to his front, he ignored the commotion, hoping that the Iraqis would respond if it really was a threat.

If Zack had looked behind him, he would have seen a date palm sag to the right as a U.S. Army M-728 combat engineering vehicle bulldozed its way toward their current position. A little further down the way, an M-1A1 Abrams fitted with a plough-like device was knocking trees and underbrush aside.

The first indicator to Rover Four that the balance of power on this battlefield had changed was the throaty boom of the M-728's 165mm demolition cannon followed by a responding concussive blast as Zack's target disappeared in roiling cloud of smoke and fire.

Corporal Vandegrift in Rover Two was all smiles as the M-1A1 with its attached mineplow first fired on and then plowed the ground in front of it. This action was rewarded with an audible WHUMPF, as a hidden position known as a spider hole burst into flame.

One insurgent who tried to jump out the burning hole and attack this new American threat was swiftly cut down. Vandegrift could see it was combat engineer Gunny Daniel LeBlanc manning the fifty caliber machine gun on the mineplow tank. Not wasting a moment, LeBlanc directed his tank's main gun toward the second fortification. The tank cannon's roar was met with an equally loud bang as the fortification blew apart.

Despite these losses, the insurgents were not about to give up. Mortar fire began to pepper the ground around the M-728 and M-1A1 mineplow.

"Bulldog Three this is Warthog Three," LeBlanc yelled over the exploding mortar rounds, "I can't get a fix on where those mortars are coming from!"

Then another voice entered their radio net. "Warthog Three, Bulldog Three; this is Hind two. Your target is a house just left of the trench line. Most likely it's hiding a blockhouse inside."

Gunnery Sergeant Dyess 'Bulldog Three' looked to the left of the trench line and sure enough, he could see flashes emanating from the house's 'windows'. Then he looked up at the Hind gunship as it passed overhead and keyed his radio. "Much obliged Hind Two, it sure is, thanks for the assist!"

Andrew Dyess yelled down to his gunner. "Rick! Target! Fortified house! Demolition round!"

The response was almost instantaneous. "On the way, Gunny!"

The house disintegrated as the 165mm round from the M-728 Engineering vehicle tore through the wooden framework then punched through the concrete reinforced blockhouse hidden inside the building. The explosion of the fortified house was joined by mortar rounds exploding all over the insurgent's positions. Another OT-64 APC that had been moving toward the Marines' position blew apart as several of the mortar rounds penetrated its thin top armor.

Lieutenant Dye's mortars had finally arrived at the FEBA.

Cheers went up from the Iraqis and the Marine LAV soldiers.

Shark Two

The sound of the various truck engines filled the air around Mac's group. "Safeties Off!" Master Guns Galindez barked to the remaining members of Shark Two.

The Light Colonel flipped her M-16 to semi-automatic. A pistol, even if it was a nine millimeter, would be useless in this kind of fight.

Mac got the surprise of her life as she watched a BRDM mounting a rack of Konkurs or Spandrel anti-tank missiles come up the road. It was flanked by two other BRDM's – these were mounting two box-like structures on a pedestal above the body of the vehicles.

"Holy mother!" Yader's hushed voice still betrayed his astonishment, "They've got a Spandrel anti-tank vehicle and two Gaskin anti-aircraft vehicles!"

"Steady Corpsman," Master Guns Galindez said in a less than convincing voice. "They haven't fired at us yet…."

"That's because we're supposed to be their friends!" Yader shot back sarcastically. Victor cut his eyes toward the young Corpsman, but didn't respond.

Let's show them how wrong they are, Corpsman!" The Light Colonel motioned to Recon Marines around her. "Concentrated fire! Master Guns! Plunging fire on those vehicles!"

As one, the Marines opened fire on the unsuspecting approaching vehicles.

The BRDM mounting anti-tank missiles bucked to a stop as a M-136 SMAW rocket drilled into the driver's compartment and automatic fire bounced off its steel hide. A line of tracer rounds from the .50 caliber machine gun stitched up the side of truck until one of its armor piercing rounds found the exposed missiles.

As a throaty explosion enveloped that BRDM, the Gaskin truck to the left of it also coughed debris and flames as the Marines' 60mm mortar rounds impacted on the box structures and roof of the armored truck.

The second Gaskin hastily reversed, barely escaping another SMAW round. Gunning its GAZ-41 V-8 engine, the Gaskin clawed its way up the hill, shaking off the small arms fire.

"Kayce! Get ready!" Barked Dallas.

Kayce Danvers had already steadied her breathing and slowly exhaled as the Gaskin armored truck rose into view.

As the vehicle filled her digital scope, she squeezed the trigger and felt the buck of her .50 caliber weapon.

The armor piercing round knocked a hole in the driver's side of the vehicle, which began to swerve erratically. Not waiting for Corbin or Dallas to say anything else, she lined up the exposed side of the vehicle and fired again.

This time her round generated the same concussive blast that had obliterated the

BTR-70. In other words, the insurgents' stored suicide vests and explosives had been hit.

As debris from the destroyed Gaskin rained down around them, Arnold Bledsoe gave voice to what everyone else was thinking. "Just what the hell are they carrying on these trucks!"

Jac Lewis watched with dark amusement as the second Gaskin blew apart. Darcy had told Samir that some sacrifices might have to be made to obtain the larger goal. He was pretty sure the al-Qaeda operative had not expected to lose two of his precious anti-aircraft vehicles.

But that was all part of the larger plan…intel for this operation had indicated the insurgents had a few vehicles, not a whole platoon. If a whole intact platoon of Gaskins were found by Briggs' forces, then the whole picture about Iraq's insurgents would change. The full weight of the United States armed forces would probably be brought down on this area and Samir al-Sahood could kiss any chance of forcing the U.S. out of Iraq good-bye.

Captain Lewis had already selected another Gaskin that wouldn't make it to the FEBA. He lined the sights of his sniper rifle on the driver who was slow in reacting to the sound of the exploding trucks to his front.

(He shouldn't have left that hatch open…) Jac squeezed the trigger and watched as the man slumped forward in his seat. Driverless, the Gaskin skidded off the road and overturned. Again, the stored explosives aboard did the rest.

When the noise from the explosions died away, Jac spoke into his radio. "Osprey One eliminated according to plan."

"Acknowledged," Darcy smiled; it was all going so well. Before the day was done, America was going to be handed her worst defeat. She switched her radio to another frequency. "Viper, strike now."

Flames were still shooting from the wrecked vehicles. Mac and Victor could scarcely believe the level of destruction. These vehicles shouldn't have been obliterated unless they were acting as ammo carriers or were rigged with explosives.

"Sound off!" Mac yelled as smoke from the wrecked vehicles swirled around them.

One by one, the Force Recon soldiers reported in. No casualties.

Sergeant Harry Armstrong hopped into the bed of Corporal Willet's truck. "Here Tim, I'll take over."

Corporal Bullard smiled as he turned over the M-2HB machine gun to Harry. "It's all yours, man."

As Corporal Bullard got down out of the truck bed; he palmed the card device again that he had pocketed when the firefight began. He looked at Armstrong, (Too bad Harry is a security risk…) he thought abstractly (I'm gonna miss him….)

The unit's wagon defensive pose was breaking up as they began to take a closer look at the fiercely burning insurgent vehicles. Eddie Willet moved his Dodge M-1008 pickup truck closer to the smoldering remains.

Mac motioned to Yader as he started toward the wrecks. "Corpsman, make sure-"

Her words were lost as Eddie Willet's pickup truck blew apart, puffing flames and debris. Eddie, Lead Forward Observer 2nd Lieutenant Oscar Flemming, and Sean O'Grady who were the closest were knocked to the ground. Mercifully, Harry Armstrong was wrapped in flames and smoke aboard the wreck, hidden from the rest of the team.

Instinctively everyone else took cover. Everyone, that is, except for Corporal Bullard and Staff Sergeant Reynolds who were quickly headed away from the stunned group. As Leonard passed a prone Sergeant Frank Witt, he nodded to him.

"You and Master Guns, take care of the rest, Frank."

Frank simply nodded since he was supposed to be numbed by the blast – which he wasn't. The two Force Recon soldiers disappeared in the smoke that had by now enveloped the battlefield.

Kayce and the others on the hill ducked at the sound of the explosion from below. Nate Peters and Jim Stallings flopped down next to each other. Phase one of Viper strike was complete, too bad Corporal Willet had to be eliminated. They had really liked him. Now all they had to do was coordinate with Harry and finish off Szymas and the others that stood in their way….

FEBA

Nigerian volunteer Yakubu Ingawli's squad ignored the impressive Marine assault.

As they stealthily moved through their slit trench toward their objective, Ingawli's sniper, a young Yemeni named, Ahmad al-Baz, opened fire on an exposed Marine. His two man RPG team was armed with a thermobaric version of the regular 66mm rocket grenade. They were looking for the LAV scouts. If they could kill them and possibly one of their armored cars, then the tide of the battle might swing back in their favor.

Ingawli watched his three four-man fire teams that were also quietly making their way toward the Americans and their Iraqi lackeys. Each fire team, armed with an RPO-A Shmel flame weapon purchased from their Chechen brethren, would make quick work of the Marine counter-attack.

Khalil saw the movement to their right first.

"Infiltrators!" he barked as he swung his AK-74 toward them, letting off a rippling burst.

Rick Bauer, who had been sitting next to Khalil as the Corpsman dressed the Corporal's wounds, grabbed his M-16 assault rifle and rattled off a burst as well.

"They'll be trying to flank us," Ra'is (Sergeant) As'sam reported. Rick nodded in agreement. Then his eyes spotted movement.

"Simmons! Port side! Infiltrators!"

Al Simmons fired his M-249 Squad Automatic Rifle at the approaching men. As they fell, he saw the distinct outline of yet another OT-64 breaking through the underbrush. The driver seemed undeterred by shellfire from Dye's mortar units.

"Got another APC headed toward us, Corp!" Al yelled above the dueling mortar barrages. "Tell Raden to take him out before he smears us!"

South of Mirbullah, Holding Area Montana

Harm could see an Air Force KC-10, military version of DC-10, loitering in the airspace designated as their holding area.

"Hey, what's an Air Force tanker bird doing parked in our Holding Area, Hammer?" radioed Nicole.

Harm had the same question. "I was just about to find out, Supergirl. Eagle 21 to Pie Tin, Eagle 21 to Pie Tin we have Air Force tanker in our Holding Area. Where is our tanker? Over."

"Eagle 21 this is Pie Tin; the Air Force tanker has been designated as refueling platform for all aircraft involved in Operation King Cobra. Their call sign is Texaco Seven. Over."

A KC-10 held a lot of aviation fuel. No doubt this tanker was tapped for the Alpha Strike elements like Eagle Squadron as well as the bombers coming from Diego Garcia.

Harm stared for a moment at the three engine plane as it made another slow turn. "Eagle 21, Roger." He switched his radio back to the squadron net.

"Hammer to Eagle squadron; the Air Force tanker is our gas station," Harm said in response to Nicole's unanswered question. "Line up to top off your tanks. I'll go first."

Harm's squadron slowly lined up behind the lumbering aircraft which began to trail it's fuel drogue. Relatively speaking, this was a short hop from the Henry, but if they entered combat they would burn up a lot more fuel.

"Hammer, I'm glad this is a KC-10 and not a KC-135," Pete quipped.

"You said it, Pete; I'm not up for dueling with the iron maiden…"

The KC-10 had both the fuel boom and the hose and drogue fuel systems. Since naval aircraft could only handle drogue refueling with their fuel probes, it was a relief that they were facing the soft version and not the 'iron maiden' steel drogue used by KC-135 tankers. Harm didn't want to have to contend with a metal refueling basket that could possibly disable his plane if they ran into turbulence.

Still, he wanted to be careful and not snap off his fuel probe in the drogue. If that happened, the 'flying gas station' would be forced to leave and the aviator/lawyer would have to explain how had broken the Air Force's most versatile tanker.

"Texaco Seven, this is Eagle 21, ready to begin fueling."

Slowly he eased his 'Cat into position. As he did, the tanker slowly released its hose and drogue.

"Eagle 21 Roger, we're ready for you."

Harm carefully nudged his Tomcat's speed and altitude until the drogue connected with his fuel probe. "Texaco Seven, I have the drogue."

"Eagle 21, standby. You're connected. Beginning fueling."

Harm hated being tethered to the lumbering tri-jet. Though the insurgents didn't have any SAMs in this area, he still wanted to get this done and over with as soon as possible.

Harm looked down at his fuel indicator which read full. "Eagle 21 you are good to go."

The drogue operator reported.

Harm nodded. "Roger Texaco Seven, this is Eagle 21 breaking off."

Harm slowed his airspeed and watched the drogue drift away from his probe. Once it was a safe distance away, he slowed his airspeed again and dropped down and away from the tanker. Supergirl moved in to take his place.

NCIS Headquarters

Washington Navy Yard

When dealing with a tough case, the Goth Forensic Specialist had been known to sleep in her Lab.

This was one of those times. She was curled up on the floor in her skull and crossbones decorated black sleeping bag, using 'Bert the farting hippo' as her pillow. As she moved her head in her sleep, Bert would respond with a bodily report.

Above her head, her computers continued to run various computations and analyze the data sent by her various lab machines. Abby Sciuto was the poster child for multi-tasking.

As she turned over and forced a particularly loud report from Bert, her office phone began ringing.

Despite not having downed a Caf-Pow in the last few hours, Abby quickly fumbled her way out of her sleeping bag and ran over to the phone.

"Lab, Abby Sciuto speaking." she replied yawning

"Ms. Sciuto, this is Special Agent Fornell, FBI-"

Abby's eyes popped wide open.

"Yes sir, Mr. Special Agent Fornell of the FBI, sir, what can I do for you, sir?" she replied in typical Abby-speak.

The voice at the other end sighed like he was really not up to this. "There are some hair and blood samples as well as other evidence on their way to your lab and there is a body on its way to Dr. Mallard. Would you let him know that, please? I tried his office and he wasn't there…."

Abby hated to be brought in on the middle of a conversation. Any conversation. Especially one that dealt with bodies and evidence about which she knew nothing. "Evidence? Evidence for what?" she asked rather pointedly. She was not sure how she felt about Special Agent Tobias Fornell but she knew she didn't like him dropping bodies and evidence off in her lab at this hour as if NCIS was a dry cleaning service with a drive thru window.

There was another labored sigh from the other end. "Ms. Sciuto at the risk of being brusque and investigated by the Office of Professional Responsibility, I'm doing this as favor to Special Agent Gibbs. We found the body of one Beauregard Livingston-"

"Beauregard Livingston? As in Darcy's husband?" Abby interrupted.

"Yes Ms. Sciuto, Beauregard Livingston. His body and the evidence we collected at the crime scene should be there in a few hours…"

Shark Two

Members of Shark Two looked on in stunned disbelief at the fiercely burning wreck of Corporal Eddie Willet's pickup truck.

Eddie, Lieutenant Flemming, and Corporal O'Grady slowly got to their feet, their eyes locked on the burning truck.

Mac knew that Sergeant Armstrong was dead. There wasn't any reason to try and rescue him, and it was obvious that the rest of the Force Recon soldiers knew that as well.

Victor, taking advantage of the chaos, strode over to Sergeant Witt and grabbed him roughly.

"Have you lost your ever lovin' mind?" he growled to the Forward Observer. Victor Galindez knew that Harry Armstrong had been one of the suspected Darcy allies in this unit, but now he wasn't so sure. If Harry was a part of Darcy's cabal, why kill him?

Frank Witt looked genuinely scared. "It's wasn't my idea, Master Guns, it was Reynolds's-"

"Leonard isn't bright enough to think this one through, Frank," Victor replied harshly cutting him off while shoving him back. "Try again."

Frank Witt stumbled back but did not fall. He put his hands up in self-defense. "Okay, okay; it was Darcy. She said to make sure Willet and the others couldn't tell about us."

Now Victor really wanted to punch the idiot. "But Willet didn't buy it, you numbskull, Harry did-"

Now the fear had left Witt, swiftly replaced by disgust. "That was Bullard's brilliant idea. Harry had been making noises about we weren't getting paid enough…."

Victor didn't listen to the rest. (So Darcy decided to eliminate the potential problem by proxy and send a message to the others at the same time.)

"Is there a problem, Master Guns?" Victor and Frank turned to see Mac standing there, obviously puzzled by their body language and demeanor.

FEBA

Lieutenant Borden motioned the lumbering engineering personnel carriers forward. Now that they had repelled the insurgents' initial assault, it was time to hit them before they mounted another attack. His attention was drawn back to his front by the staccato rattle of yet another machine gun.

"Gunner! Target! Fortification! Armored piercing!"

"On the way!" barked his gunner.

The 120mm armored piercing shell, designed to take out Soviet main battle tanks, punched a hole in the stone fort's massive wall. Gunfire from the fortification suddenly stopped. At the same time Warthog Two scored a direct hit on another spider hole, the explosion of the booby-trapped tunnel rumbled ominously like an undersea volcano.

As Slugger Four's CO watched, combat engineers swarmed past his tank and the tank with the mineplow attachment. Teams armed with M-202 four barreled rocket launchers fired on the silent fort and the trench line next to it, while other teams armed with explosives dropped them down the still smoking tunnel entrances already encountered.

Just as it looked like they might be gaining the upper hand, Borden watched as a hailstorm of fire enveloped his 'wingman' Corporal Vandegrift in Slugger Two and Bulldog Two. He scanned the smoke for signs of movement. He feared both had been disabled. Disabled armored vehicles were like honey to infantrymen, especially these fanatical insurgents.

"Slugger Four to Slugger Two, are you in one piece?" he radioed to his wingman.

The response was salvo from each vehicle which eliminated their harassers. "Never better, Lieutenant." came back Keith Vandegrift's cocky response. "But those insurgents are going to have a hell of a headache."

Hank looked over at the smoking debris that used to be a farmhouse. He could clearly one could see the twisted remains of several machine guns and what was probably a recoilless rifle.

Jay Raden watched with growing apprehension as the tide of the battle seemed to slowly but surely turn in the Marines' favor. Darcy would most likely blame him for this debacle, not these idiot fanatics who couldn't seem to understand how to anticipate what GATORFORCE was going to do next. After all, he couldn't very well be expected to cold-bloodedly turn his guns on his own fellow Marines. That would draw attention. And Darcy abhorred undue attention. (So what am I supposed to do? Sit here and watch Zack and Hank make mincemeat out of al-Sahood's fanatical followers?)

No; he had to get to Darcy, and fast. Explain what happened. If Corporal Raden had been thinking clearly and hadn't been in a panic-driven sweat he would have realized how stupid this move was.

But Jay wasn't thinking clearly. He was only thinking about saving his skin. He switched his radio to the internal net.

"John, back us up, get us the hell outta here, now!" he said tersely.

John Pogue, his driver couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Have you lost your freakin' mind, Jay? We drive away right now; they're gonna to know something's up!"

The panic was growing within Jay by the moment. As each Marine shell connected, his urgency to get out of here grew correspondingly.

"Dammit! Don't argue with me, Lance Corporal, we're leaving! Right damn now!"

"Your funeral, jerk off," John said disgustedly as put the armored truck into gear.

With the frenetic pace of the battle, Rick Bauer would not have noticed Jay Raden's LAV backing away from them, except that this was their home on wheels. Rick grabbed his hand radio and pushed the button to talk.

"Rover One! Where the hell are you going?"

Jay's LAV didn't stop. It kept reversing until it backed into out of the underbrush and into the daylight on the other side of the grove. Then it slammed to stop, shifted gears and roared away from GATORFORCE ONE at top speed.

Khalil As'sam looked quizzically at Rick Bauer. "Where is your armored car going?" he asked innocently.

"Damned if I know!" Snapped Rick. Something wasn't right.

-TBC…


	75. Chapter 74

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 74

In the Marine Corps historical accounts [when released to the public] this battle would be known as 'The Battle of 21 Easting' or as the locals called it, al-Khalim Farm. Whatever name it was called, the battle for the farm was underway in earnest. Slowly, the Marines and their Iraqi allies were pushing forward across the rippling fields of sorghum toward the insurgent positions.

Oily acrid smoke and bright flames covered the battlefield. Rais Nasir Sadoon's MT-LB personnel carrier had almost burned itself out, but the insurgent OT-64 APCs that had tried to breach the Marine – Provisional Iraqi Army lines were burning funeral pyres. The air was leaden with sooty blue smoke from the various gasoline and diesel engines of the opponents as they jockeyed for better firing positions. Other odors, ones better left to the imagination, also hung in the warm mid-morning air.

All of this was silently observed by a flight of remotely piloted aircraft better known as Predators. Looking like oversized model airplanes, the drones provided a birds-eye view of the combatants.

Andrew Baxter, CO of Gatorforce, grimaced as he looked at the images of the battlefield.

"We've gotta find a way around this roadblock…" he said aloud to no one in particular.

"Uh, how bad is it, Colonel?" Bud ventured curiously. Faith Coleman and Sergeant Dewert simultaneously sucked in a breath. Both were certain that Bud Roberts was about to be reamed for that comment.

If Colonel Baxter was annoyed by Bud's question, he didn't show it.

"If the insurgents keep us bottled up like this, the whole offensive could stall, Lieutenant." The Gatorforce leader explained with more patience than either Coleman or Dewert had expected.

Bud nodded thoughtfully and scanned the image screens of the four RPVs. Then his eyes focused on the furthest screen, an odd movement catching his attention. "Colonel? Where is that LAV headed?"

"What?" Andrew queried, peering closely at the image the JAG Corps officer had indicated.

"There," Bud replied pointing to the only moving vehicle on the screen display.

Sergeant Dewert leaned over Bud's shoulder. "That's Rover One, Lieutenant;" he turned and looked at the Gatorforce CO. "Corporal Jay Raden, Colonel."

Andrew nodded. "Dewert, get me Sergeant DeWald; find out where that LAV is going, and follow him; he must be looking for a way around this roadblock…." It was a hopeful thought.

Shark Two's Ambush Positions

Nate Peters got up first and sprinted away from Kayce and the others. "I'll check on the Colonel and the others, Staff Sergeant!" he yelled back at Mark Dallas.

"Peters! Get back here!" Barked Dallas, "There might be more insurgents around here! You want to get your stupid head blown off?"

Joe Corbin looked over at Jim Stallings who had started to get up. "Don't you even think about it, hero…" growled Corbin. Jim slowly lowered himself back onto the ground.

Corporal Peters scrambled to the bottom of the hill and suddenly stopped. Laid out in front of him was a hellish scene. What was left of Corporal Willet's pickup truck was burning fiercely. He could see a headless figure was slumped over the anti-aircraft machine gun in the bed of the truck, but he couldn't make out who it had been.

He silently began cussing Bullard when he saw an unharmed Eddie Willet standing next to the Colonel and Master Guns Galindez. (And those suck-ups Danvers and Yader are right next to the Colonel…) but he didn't see Harry anywhere. Where was he?

Harry was supposed to be working with the Master Guns. (Poor Szymas…) Nate thought as he looked at the burning figure, he wondered if the Sergeant had felt the explosion…

Victor was just about to answer Mac when Corporal Peters trotted down the hill, unaware anything was amiss. The Master Guns strode over to the Corporal who was supposed to be with the rest of the hunter killer team.

"Peters!" Victor said, snapping the Corporal out of his silent analysis. "Why the hell aren't you with Staff Sergeant Dallas?"

"Uh, the Staff Sergeant, he, sent me down to investigate the explosion," he said lying effortlessly. Darcy had taught him well. Now it was almost second nature for him to not tell the truth. Coming from a religious family, it had been hard for him at first, but with Jacques Lewis and Rudy Wilbane's help, he had learned how to lie with the best of them.

"Who'd we lose, Master Guns?" he said staring at the burning wreck, hoping he looked appropriately shocked and saddened.

"It was Sergeant Armstrong, Nathan." Eddie said quietly. "He was manning the machine gun…."

FEBA (Forward Area of Battle)

Northeast of Mirbullah

Sergeant Kyle Sewett looked around for his wingman. He knew the heat and noise of the battlefield was disorienting, but he had been working hard with Raden to keep him focused during his first combat experience. But now he was gone. Kyle looked over at his CAAT team leader. "Wolverine leader; where the hell is Rover One?"

2nd Lieutenant Alan Thomason, Wolverine Leader, grimaced. He hated giving Kyle bad news. "Rover One alpha to Rover Three actual; Rover one bugged out…"

Because Kyle took it so well. "Bugged out? What direction?" barked Sergeant Sewett. The Lieutenant swore he had been taking lessons from Staff Sergeant Fuller.

Alan hated this. He started to hand off his radio to his subordinate who deftly shook his head. Alan threw the man 'a disgusted officer look' before speaking into the mike again. "Northwest, Rover Three actual…"

Kyle may have only been a Sergeant, but he was unit leader on this expedition. "Wolverine leader; take Casano and Dillman with you…find out where Rover One is headed, out."

"Wolverine Leader, roger, out."

Shark Two

Nate's legs felt rubbery. He looked from Eddie Willet toward the burning wreckage and back again. "Sergeant Armstrong?" he barely croaked to no one in particular. "Harry?"

Victor Galindez put his hand on the younger man's shoulder. "He's gone, Corporal."

Kayce Danvers and the others were making their way back down the hill. Jim Stallings, who had been talking with Luke Calapango, froze in his tracks. Nate pinned him with a look of pure hatred.

"Your good buddy, Bullard, he did this," Corporal Peters growled as he stared at Jim. Victor tried to remain stoic.

Jim though was in full denial mode. "Wha? Tim? Nate, man, listen to me-"

As Jim stumbled for an answer, Mark Dallas, Joe Corbin and the others regarded him as if he had suddenly sprouted another head.

Vicky Logan was the first to bring up her rifle, pointing it at the nebbish Lance Corporal. "You dirty sonavab…!"

Luke wrestled Stallings' rifle away from him. Jim continued to plead for understanding. "Vicky, Luke, you got it all wrong…"

Victor looked at Frank who shrugged his shoulders. Mac, meanwhile, had watched all of this interplay very carefully. There was another shift in power taking place. Had they discovered all of Darcy's moles? Or would others appear to discipline those who had lost control?

Near the Line of Departure

Leroy Jethro Gibbs tapped his subordinate on the shoulder. Tony looked up at Gibbs, confused.

"Grab your gear; we're getting close to Colonel Baxter's command post!" The silver haired NCIS Agent snapped.

Before Tony could ask how he knew that, the big carrier rattled to a stop. Sergeant Canella looked over at the two NCIS Agents. "This is our stop, gentlemen, but then you probably already knew that, didn't you, Special Agent Gibbs?"

The Senior NCIS Agent merely flashed him a tight smile as he led Tony toward the lowering ramp.

"C'mon DiNozzo; let's go see what else Commander Coleman and Lieutenant Roberts have learned…."

Rat Patrol

"I don't get it, Commander…" Coskill was flummoxed. "Why kill one of their own?"

"A falling out maybe, Master Chief," Brad May surmised out loud. "Or maybe a failed attempt at killing Colonel MacKenzie…possibly she went too far in destroying those insurgent vehicles…."

Petty Officer Seibert put a quick end to their theorizing. "Commander! Master Chief! They're packing up their gear and pulling out!"

Release Point, Route Bravo

Somewhere Northeast of Mirbullah

Pulkownik (Colonel) Luisa Baranova shifted in her seat next to vehicle commander Sierzant Andre Lesinski. She knew they were headed into certain combat as did her fellow senior officers. She wondered whether the younger soldiers of her unit realized that. She sometimes forgot that to them, this was just a big adventure.

It was this kind of unease that made her question, just for moment, if it was a good idea to do this. After all, they were supposed to be peacekeepers…but then sometimes, she reminded herself, even peacekeepers had to use force.

And this was one of those times. Whether Colonel Briggs liked it or not, her unit was going to support her ally.

The lead missile-armed Polish modified BRDM armored car of the 45th Reconnaissance Battalion edged its way alongside the prehistoric looking American Marine personnel carriers [better known as AMTRACs] that were lined up along the length of the farm road.

Behind her two other BRDMs followed and behind them was a trio of missile-armed SKOT2 AP OT-64 wheeled personnel carriers 'borrowed' from Captain Ahmad Azeri's provisional combat unit. These were followed by Colonel Baranova's own Motorized Rifle Company in their own OT-64 carriers and these were in turn followed by another trio of Azeri's missile bearing wheeled carriers.

"Kapitan Chidorz, I trust your troops are ready for action," Luisa said as she spoke into her radio mike.

His response made her smile. "Just as we discussed, Colonel. We're forming up behind Captain Azeri's units, correct?"

"Correct Kapitan; we'll pass through his formation and link up with Colonel Baxter's forces."

Through her periscope, she spotted three HMMWVs. Something told her that she needed to follow them. "But first, Sierzant Lesinski and I are going to assist those Marines."

"Yes Colonel."

Shark Two

Mac decided that she had to go on the offensive or face yet another 'Darcy ambush/test' and then another, until her unit would be rendered combat ineffective.

"Staff Sergeant Corbin!"

"Yes ma'am!"

"You and your men will stay with Corporal Willet and his truck, tend to Corporal Flemminger, keep an on eye on Lance Corporal Stallings and provide security. When you are relieved by Colonel Briggs' advance units, you will move to join us at al-Sahood's hideout."

"Aye, aye, Colonel!" Joe Corbin knew what Colonel MacKenzie was doing; she was throwing down the gauntlet, daring any other Darcy ally to show himself.

"Master Guns, you, Sergeant Witt, Lance Corporal Danvers, Corporal Calapango, Petty Officer Yader, Sergeant Szymas and I will go after the fugitives."

"Yes ma'am." They responded as one.

"Staff Sergeant Dallas you and your team will act as our back up."

There was no dissent. "Aye, aye ma'am,"

"Sergeant Williams, Corporal Burges - are your vehicles still operational?"

"Aye, aye ma'am; just give the word. We're good to go." The sergeant replied for both of them.

"It's given; gentlemen, ladies, let's move out."

"Mount up Marines!" Victor snapped to the assembled Force Recon soldiers.

As the soldiers began moving to their assigned vehicles, Lance Corporal Bledsoe presented himself to Mac.

"Colonel?"

Mac really wasn't up for another challenge to her authority "What is it, Lance Corporal?" she replied curtly.

Bledsoe was unswayed by her short reply. "Ma'am, Permission to join you and your team-"

Joe Corbin looked over and saw the Lance Corporal standing in front of Mac. "Bledsoe!" he bellowed.

Mac was ready though to put down any sort of shenanigans that Arnold Bledsoe had in mind. "Lance Corporal, I…" she began harshly as she began to walk around him.

The young Lance Corporal cut her off before she could finish and moved to block her, causing the Light Colonel's eyes to flare in anger. Arnie was quick to explain his actions.

"Colonel, I apologize for my previous behavior up to this point, let me prove-"

"Bledsoe you have five seconds to get your miserable butt over here!" Staff Sergeant Corbin began moving in the direction of Mac and the Lance Corporal.

Mac though, heard something in Arnold Bledsoe's voice she hadn't heard before.

"Wait one Staff Sergeant; okay Bledsoe; why do you want to come with me?"

The Lance Corporal was glad to have this audience and plainly stated his case. "To show you and the others that I am not the screw-up you think I am. I want to nail Bullard and Staff Sergeant Reynolds as bad as you do. They betrayed you; they betrayed me; they betrayed all of us. Please, Colonel, let me go with you…."

Mac couldn't tell what Lance Corporal Bledsoe's real motives were, maybe it was righteous anger, or it could be he was another Darcy plant. There was no way to know. She'd have to trust her gut that was telling her to give him another chance.

"Bledsoe," Victor said in his threatening senior NCO tone.

"It's all right, Master Guns," Mac said in response. She turned back to Bledsoe. "Okay Lance Corporal, you have your chance – now, get your gear and let's go."

"Thank you ma'am." Arnold said with sincere gratitude and ran to grab his rucksack. (Either he's a really good actor, or he's being honest) Mac thought as she watched him head back to the idling pickup truck.

Arnie Bledsoe climbed into the bed of Corporal Burges' pick-up. As he started to settle down he noticed Corporal Logan staring balefully at him.

"You do anything the least bit odd, man, and I will blow your damn head wide open."

Arnold couldn't say anything to that. He simply nodded. As he did, Corporal Burges put the Dodge truck in gear and the two vehicle convoy moved out.

Inside the cab of the truck, Master Guns Galindez was seated next to Mac.

"Which direction, Master Guns?" She said off-handedly as she looked out her side window.

"I'm sorry ma'am?" Victor said blithely

Mac's voice dropped an octave. "Don't make me pull out my side arm and point it at you, Master Gunnery Sergeant. Just tell me the location of al-Sahood's safe house."

Don Burges did his best to keep his eyes pointed straight ahead. (How long had the Colonel known that the Master Guns was part of Darcy's crew?) He wondered.

Victor nodded. Mac was making sure any other friends of Darcy knew who was in charge now. Part of him, though, was really unnerved by her cold display, but another part of him was glad she was taking charge like this. "Northwest ma'am, just beyond this hill," he said quietly, trying to sound chastened, but defiant. "But you'll have to pass through several checkpoints before we get there," he warned.

The Light Colonel gave him a cold smile. "I figured that was the case, Master Guns; that's why I didn't leave you behind."

She looked over at Corporal Burges. "Northwest, Corporal; best speed."

"Aye, aye ma'am." Don replied as he put the truck into gear.

Kayce, who had been able to hear what took place turned around and smiled at the Force Recon Marines around her. "Looks like the Colonel's in charge of this mission now."

That brought smiles to everyone but Sergeant Witt who busied himself with his man pack radio. To keep his true feelings hidden, he pretended to be pre-occupied with fine tuning his equipment.

Samir al-Sahood's Safe House

Somewhere North of Mirbullah

Hamid Faoud al-Harib sat down at the table across from his mentor. Hamid was spent. He had been up until the early hours of this morning, working out last minute kinks in the plans for the chemical attack on the American Marines.

Samir had been, until that moment, looking at his laptop apparently deep in thought. When Hamid sat down across from him, he lifted his eyes so that he could see his number one pupil and most promising protégée.

"Greetings Hamid. How are preparations coming?" He said smiling. "Are the missile trucks ready?"

Hamid appeared to study the back of Samir's laptop rather than look the older man directly in the eye. He did not like disappointing him. "We have two operational missile trucks and two short range rocket trucks that are ready, Samir."

"You were supposed give me four operational missile trucks!" Samir glowered as he replied cuttingly. "Do you realize that this puts our operation into serious jeopardy?"

Hamid bowed his head at his rebuke. "I know Samir, forgive me…."

"What is the problem?" Samir said dismissing his apology. "What is it that you need? Do you need more technicians? More mechanics?"

"It-it is the age of the vehicles, Samir, and the fact that their maintenance was neglected for several months before they came into our possession…."

"Even now, at this moment of certain victory, Allah challenges me to do better." Samir's anger seemed to wash itself from him. Then he looked at his protégée.

"So we have two operational SCUD missile launchers? Can the other vehicles move at all?"

"They can Samir," Hamid was glad he could report some good news.

"Excellent, excellent. Then we will use them as decoys for the inevitable American air strike…"

"You're certain they will launch an air attack?"

"Hamid, these are Americans, he said as if speaking to a child. Hamid bridled at this but because it was his mentor telling him this, he tolerated it. "They will come at us with everything they have and we have to prepare accordingly."

"Then we will prepare the first two missile vehicles as decoys…and two of the short range rocket trucks." Hamid replied with hint of smugness.

Samir was taken aback that his plan now hinged on just two SCUD missile trucks and two Free Rocket Over Ground, or FROG, short range rocket trucks, but he didn't dare let Hamid know this. To show any wavering at this point could spell disaster and he would not abort his plan now.

"Perfect Hamid; I knew I could count on you to help me see this plan through. Now to other business; how goes the battle at the farm?"

"As predicted, we have lost several of the personnel carriers given to us by the Republican Guard…"

"Ah yes, that was to be expected." He said sadly. "Dahab told me the Marines had very good anti-vehicle weapons…"

"But we have stalled their advance. They had to bring up more reinforcements in order to begin moving forward again."

"As I predicted, Hamid. Our Soldiers of Allah will be rewarded in Paradise for their fight against the American Marines."

"That is true, Samir, but there is one troubling development."

"Oh? And what is that?"

"The Polish contingent from al-Diwaniyah has sent an armored unit and helicopter gunships to join the Americans…."

"Really? Against the wishes of Colonel Briggs? I wonder why Dahab didn't anticipate this?"

Hamid was still not used to this American woman, Dahab, better known to the Americans as Darcy Livingston, being a willing part of this plan.

"Colonel Baranova, the leader of the Polish contingent, is very unpredictable. Dahab confessed she is hard to read."

Hamid wondered if Darcy was having second thoughts about her part in this operation. If so, then his scouts could eliminate Dahab as a potential threat. Samir didn't need to be bothered with the details. He trusted the younger man and Hamid would do whatever was necessary to make sure their plan was a success – even if it meant killing Samir's lover.

If the leader of the al-Diwaniyah al-Qaeda terrorist cell suspected what his protégée was planning, he didn't give any indication. Samir's mind was more focused on defeating the American Marines.

He stood up, brushing his hands together as if wiping them off. "Well, no matter. Colonel Briggs only has speculative information about the missile attack. By the time he and Colonel Baranova figure out what is really going on, it will be too late for them to do anything about it. See to it that the decoy vehicles are readied and moved into position."

"Yes Samir," Hamid replied respectfully.

Just south of FEBA

Somewhere Northeast of Mirbullah

Sergeant Louis 'Lucky Louie' Casano ordered his driver to turn down the path taken by Jay Raden's LAV. Casano's gun truck was followed by Lieutenant Thomason's and Corporal Dillman's HMMWVs.

"Are you sure they headed this way, Sergeant?" Lieutenant Thomason asked pointedly. Casano was sure the source of his irritation was not caused by whether or not this was the trail Raden took but more likely that Kyle Sewett, Fuller's second in command, had chewed on him. Sergeants sometimes seem to take a special delight in 'correcting' supposedly senior officers. Besides, it had been Thomason's job to keep track of Raden. Sewett wasn't about to let something like this slide.

"Yes sir, Corporal Raden took this path…." affirmed Casano. Just because Kyle jumped all over him didn't mean that Thomason was incompetent. Besides Louie kind of liked the new officer.

Jon Dillman, bringing up the rear of the three man convoy, spoke up. "Doesn't make any sense, Lieutenant, why would Raden go this way? It doesn't seem to lead anywhere…."

"We're going to find out, Corporal." replied Thomason. "Sergeant, do you see any sign of Raden's truck?"

"No sir, Lieutenant," Casano replied, "Any luck trying to raise him on the radio, sir?"

"Dillman?"

"Nothing, Lieutenant," Dillman reported. "If he's out there, he's not responding…."

"Keep trying Dillman,"

"Aye, aye, sir."

Jon tried the radio again. "Wolverine two seven to Rover One, do you copy? Rover One, acknowledge…."

"Sewett's gonna skin Raden's hide when he gets hold of him, isn't he?" Casano's driver said smiling.

The Sergeant cut his eyes toward his driver. "Stow it, Lance Corporal."

"Aye sir."

As the three HMMWV's approached a bend in the trail, the rattle of two heavy machine guns filled the air.

"Ambush!" Casano yelled at his driver as tracer rounds smacked into their windscreen, "Hard right!"

7.62mm slugs from Rover One's M-240 coaxial machine gun and Raden's anti-aircraft machine gun stitched themselves over the hood of the Hum-vee.

Casano's truck veered off the road to the right, while Lieutenant Thomason's Hum-vee skittered to the left out of Raden's line of fire and buried itself in the underbrush. A line of bullets stitched the side of his HMMWV.

Because Corporal Dillman's vehicle was the last to take evasive maneuvers, it took the brunt of the assault. Hammered by fusillade of bullets, the Hum-vee swerved first left and then right as Dillman sought to avoid Raden's assault. Dillman's gunner, PFC Gil Swanson, fired back 40mm grenades from his M-19 grenade launchers with equal ferocity, until Raden's bullets silenced him.

Badly wounded, Jon Dillman skidded his truck off the path and into some soft sand that lined the trail.

There was chaos aboard Rover One.

"Gunner!" growled Jay above the rattle of his M-240 anti-aircraft machine gun. "HE ((high explosive)), three HMMWVs!"

"Cannot identify!" Barked his gunner, Lance Corporal Jesse Strong. John Pogue turned and looked at Strong as if he had lost his mind.

"From my position!" Jay snarled attempting to take over firing of the 25mm chaingun.

"Jam! We've got a jam down here, Corporal!" reported Strong.

Jay Raden dropped down through his open hatch "There'd better be a jammed round in that carriage," he said as he moved over the main gun and began looking at the belted rounds that were feeding into the gun carriage.

"Dammit!" snapped Jay as he saw the jammed round. "Lance Corporal, get up in my position and maintain fire on those HMMWVs!"

Corporal Strong didn't move. "I think I should try to clear the jam, Jay."

Jay's moved to within inches of his face. "And I told you to man that two forty, Lance Corporal…now are you going to get up there or are you going find yourself hit by a stray round from one of those Hum-vees?"

"Guys! There's another vehicle coming through the bushes!" Pogue yelled.

Sierzant Andre Lesinski couldn't believe what he was seeing. True, he had seen soldiers of the same unit fire on each other – what they call friendly fire – but this LAV crew wasn't making a 'heat of battle' mistake. Since when do American Marines fire on each other?

He made a snap decision. "Gunner! Harassing fire on that armored truck!"

Colonel Baranova peered through the BRDM's periscope at the same time at the bizarre sight. Incredibly, the American Marine LAV continued firing on the Marine HMMWVs.

Luisa Baranova watched as the BRDM's 12.7mm machine gun began scoring hits on the Marine armored truck.

"What the hell?" Jay said at the sound of 12.7mm rounds bouncing off the LAV's armor plate. All three men flinched as the rounds continued to hit the truck.

"We've got a Polish BRDM firing at us!" Pogue barked.

"You!" Jay said to Strong. "Get that jam cleared!" Then he turned to John. "And you! Get us out of here!"

As Lesinski's gunner continued firing at the LAV-25, it began backing away from them, but as the armored truck did so, it began firing at the BRDM. Now 7.62mm rounds began pinging off the Polish armored car.

"Coaxial!" Lesinki ordered. "We've got to keep the pressure on him!"

"Let's go! Let's go! Get us outta here John!" Jay Raden's strident voice matched his anxiety about this whole situation. It was all coming apart, and Darcy was going to blame him for it.

-TBC…


	76. Chapter 75

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 75

36th MEU Headquarters & HQ Company

"There, there it is again!" Bud Roberts said, pointing at the drone's monitor. The grainy image showed the infrared shadows of what was definitely a LAV and it was firing on three Hum-vees.

Faith looked at Baxter. "Colonel! Corporal Raden is firing at Lt. Thomason and his team!"

"Sergeant, get a squad over there now!" Baxter snapped to Dewert.

As Sergeant Dewert got on his radio to call for his assistance, Leroy Jethro Gibbs and Tony DiNozzo walked up to the carrier's rear.

Before the Senior NCIS Agent could say anything, Faith pointed outside. "Gibbs! One of Fuller's LAVs is firing on a CAAT team that just went down that trail! It has to be one of Darcy's moles!"

Both men turned and broke into a run back to Sergeant Damato's idling AMTRAC.

"What's up?" Canella asked as the two ran up the lowered ramp.

Gibbs didn't mince words. "One of Darcy's moles is making a break for it! Get this thing moving!"

"Damato! Get that ramp up and hit the gas!" barked Sergeant Canella.

GATORFORCE ONE

FEBA

AMTRAC A020 shuddered to a stop. As its ramp began lowering, 1st Lieutenant Jim Hawkins, Acting Commanding Officer of Alpha Company, adjusted the strap on his helmet and motioned to his squad.

"Let's go Marines!"

As Hawkins' squad hurried to the tree line, he noted the other squads of his company were mimicking his actions, taking over the positions of Staff Sergeant Fuller's LAVs and Ra'id (Captain) Muhaim's reconnaissance unit.

As the recon soldiers and their vehicles withdrew into the tree line, Alpha Company's personnel carriers moved into the tree line, with engineer specialist vehicles designed to breach defensive lines taking the lead.

Gunnery Sergeant LeBlanc waited until the engineering vehicles were lined up even with his. With a single hand signal, the M-728 and other engineering vehicles surged forward.

Behind them, Lieutenants Jim Hawkins, Phil Rowe, Mike Cole, and Kirby Price lead the Marine company assault with Gunnery Sergeant Albert Sanchez and the other company Sergeants along with the rest of the unit following close behind.

The bunkers and trench line on the far side of the field became alive with the rattle of automatic and machine gun fire as well as a few rifles, which were no doubt, snipers trying to hit targets of opportunity.

Combat Engineer Lieutenant Ansel Paige hunkered down in the armored hatch of his Engineering AMTRAC as bullets began, once again, to sing through the air. "Corporal! Get us as close to the enemy line as you can!"

"I'm gonna need more cover fire Lieutenant!" his driver shouted above the din of bullets bouncing off the armored hide of the AMTRAC.

Ansel nodded. "Coming up!" He quickly switched his intercom. "Gutierrez! You and your men are up!"

Ramon Gutierrez had been itching to get back into the fight since Dodge was killed and his squad sidelined by the JAGMAN investigation. "Aye, aye, Lieutenant!" He turned to his eleven man engineering squad. "You heard the man! Time to de-bus! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!"

To the south of ONE, Major Lyle Kelly and his Marines of Bravo Company, 3-2 Marines, began to simultaneously move into the tree line, lead by their own Marine engineering vehicles.

Gunnery Sergeant Dyess, aboard the M1 mine plow known as 'Warthog Four', began to move forward across the waving sorghum field with Bravo Company's engineering vehicles. The Abrams mine plow had only gone a few feet when it was hit hard by enemy cannon fire from a 100mm anti-tank gun.

Major Kelly, GATORFORCE TWO CO, didn't wait for the smoke to clear from around Warthog Four. "Bravo 201! Find that damned gun and knock it out!" He ordered.

The call sign 'Bravo 201' belonged to his assistant commander, 1st Lieutenant John Packer.

"Aye Sir!" Packer replied and then switched to the Company network on his radio.

" Bravo 201 to Bulldog two! Enemy anti-tank gun 1,500 meters to your right! Fire at will!"

"Engaging now 201!" came back Corporal Pell's terse reply in Bulldog Two.

Hank Borden, commander of Slugger Four, peered into the smoke surrounding Gunny Dyess's tank. He was relieved when he saw the Gunny waving his hand. "Warthog Four, are you good to go?" He asked.

"We're okay Lieutenant, but we almost had our bell rung by that insurgent gun…."

"Don't worry about him, Warthog, Slugger Two and I will take him out!"

"Roger Slugger Four; we'll be back in the game in a moment…." CO Borden could see that Gunny Dyess's driver was having trouble with their starter.

Hank switched his radio to Bravo's Company's net. "Slugger Four to Bravo 201! Slugger Two and I will assist Bulldog Two!"

"Glad to have you back him up Slugger Four!" replied Packer.

The sound of a screaming helo engine made Lieutenant Packer look up just in time to see the Polish Hind which had been wheeling around at the tree line now charging toward the insurgent trench line followed by a Marine AV-8B Harrier.

"Bravo 201 this Javelin Oh One! Polish Hind and I will kick open the door for your Marines!"

"Roger wilco, Javelin Oh One;" replied Packer, "We'll keep the bandits off your backs!"

"Much obliged Bravo!"

Kasim Hadhazy watched as another of his bunkers crumpled under the combined assault from the Marine tanks and aircraft. The Polish Hind delivered the death blow by sending two rockets straight into the anti-tank gun's stored ammunition.

With an ear-splitting flash and roar, the bunker blew apart. Hadhazy was growing worried. Hamid had told him the Americans were good but he had no idea they would decimate his troops so badly. Why was Allah allowing this to happen?

Then he remembered Samir al-Sahood final words to them before they left their camp. (Allah challenges us, so that we may do greater things…)

Kasim nodded. It was time to do one of those greater things. They had held back long enough. "Murtallah," he called out.

The young Somali came to his side. "Yes Kasim?"

"Pull out the plans given to us by Dahab. It is time to strike at the heart of the Americans!"

"B-but Dahab said there would be a signal first, Kasim." Murtallah said, trying to reason with the more seasoned Jihadist.

Both turned to see another OT-64 personnel carrier belch flames and roll to a stop.

Kasim grabbed the man's shoulders. "Our window of opportunity closes a little more with each loss we suffer, Murtallah. Samir and Hamid would understand."

The younger man nodded and handed Kasim the pouch containing Dahab's documents.

Opening the pouch, Kasim rifled through it until he found the sheet of paper he was looking for. Taking a pencil from the pouch, he scanned the document and then scribbled down a number. Then he handed the marked document back to Murtallah.

"Give this to Abdul. He is monitoring the American transmissions. When he finds this frequency, the equipment he has will pin-point the American Commander's position based on this document. Go now!"

The younger man wanted to argue against this rash action. But he knew the veteran soldier would not be swayed. He nodded his acceptance. "At once, Kasim" and ran to find Abdul and his radio direction finding equipment.

Colonel Briggs' HMMWV had pulled up next to Sergeant Dewert's AMTRAC.

"Baxter! Status report!" he barked as he climbed out of the Hum-vee.

The commander of GATORFORCE ELEMENT saluted the MEU commander. "GATORFORCES ONE and TWO are making good progress against the insurgent positions on the far side of this field-"

Briggs dismissed his 'sunshine' with an irritated wave of the hand. "Can't we just go around this?" 'This' being the current fire fight going on in front of them.

Andrew Baxter decided that sugar coating the situation would not help. "We've been trying, Colonel, but the terrain on our south side is impassable for our vehicles-"

"What about the north side?" he retorted angrily, interrupting again.

"We don't know sir, Lieutenant Thomason and his men ran into an insurgent ambush-"

It was a half lie. Baxter knew the north side was occupied by insurgent forces and they were being lead by Corporal Raden. But how was he going to tell Briggs that? Plus how was he going to explain the 'blue on blue' firefight?

"Colonel, I don't want to hear excuses from you! I want results! Got that?"

"Aye sir!" Baxter said automatically.

Bud Roberts and Faith Coleman stood by silently, observing this clash.

"What the hell are you JAGs looking at? Do something useful with yourselves, like draw up some wills or something. Where is Captain Johnson, Baxter? I don't remember these two-"

Andrew Baxter wasn't sure he had heard Ashton Briggs correctly. He was about to say something to that effect when Sergeant Jenkins spoke up.

"Um, Colonel, this is Lieutenant Roberts and Commander Coleman…the, uh, JAGMAN case… Lieutenant Dodge?"

Briggs whirled on Jenkins and stopped in mid snarl. It was something in Jenkins' expression that made Ashton Briggs compose himself. Briggs didn't seem to notice that Baxter, Coleman, Roberts and Dewert wore the same expressions of worry and concern.

"Commander, Lieutenant, I apologize; but if you'll excuse me, I have a battle to fight. I'm not going to be the last Marine in Operation Iraqi Freedom who reaches Baghdad!"

He stormed out of the carrier, leaving confused looks in his wake. Sergeant Jenkins looked at Colonel Baxter for a moment with an expression indicating he was out of his depth before turning and following Briggs.

"Colonel? Did he say what I think he said?" Bud asked cautiously after the two men left.

"He did," Lieutenant," Baxter said grimly. "He thinks it's March 2003."

"Colonel Baxter," Faith said firmly but cautiously, "Sir, you have to do something about this; he's putting you and your men in serious danger-"

"I know, Commander; I know!" The intensity of his last words silenced Faith.

"Sorry," he said quietly, looking away from the JAG Corps officers and Sergeant Dewert. "Give me a moment…."

"Yes sir," Faith replied. Her OCD did not prevent her from understanding that this was an incredibly difficult and unusual situation.

Sergeant Dewert started to say something to Bud, but his voice was drowned out by the loud zipping sound that signaled in an incoming mortar round. They all instinctively looked up.

Before anyone else could say anything, it impacted, causing the AMTRAC to rock violently.

Dewert, Bud and Faith had to pick themselves off the floor of the carrier. As they started checking each other, Colonel Baxter was already headed down the ramp and outside.

They too, suddenly became aware of the inhuman wailing, along with moaning, groaning and cries for 'Corpsman'.

Faith went down the ramp first followed by Bud and Sergeant Dewert.

Luisa Baranova and her BRDM's scout team sprinted over to Sergeant Casano's silent HMMWV.

"Pulkownik Baranova!"

Luisa couldn't help but smile at the chivalry that tinged the Staff Sergeant's radio call. Misplaced and distracting on the battlefield, but chivalry nonetheless. She'd have to talk to Kapitan Chirdorz about when such reactions were appropriate.

"We're all quite all right, Sierzant. The ambushers appear to have left." She lowered her radio and looked around. All three HMMWVs were silent. She hoped that they hadn't arrived too late. She motioned to the team commander who'd gone a short ways down the trail, probably looking for that crazy Marine's armored truck.

'Kapral!" She motioned for him to come to her.

He hurriedly jogged back. "No sign of the bandit Marine, Pulkownik," He reported.

She nodded. "Take one of your scouts and check on the other two Hum-vees and then report back to me."

"Yes ma'am," he swiftly replied. Motioning to one of two specialist who were standing with Baranova, they hurried over to Lieutenant Thomason's smoking HMMWV.

She turned to the other Starszy Szeregowiec (Specialist 4th class). "Here, help me with this door…" They both grabbed the damaged armor reinforced door and began tugging on it.

With a tortured squeal, they managed to pull it open.

Luisa peered into the smoky interior of the vehicle. She could see a Marine Sergeant sprawled next to his driver, who didn't appear to be too badly wounded. Both must've have been knocked unconscious from the wreck.

Luisa leaned over and gently shook the NCO. "Sergeant? Are you all right?"

Louis Casano's eyes opened and took a moment to focus on the Polish officer. Looking into her curious eyes, he nodded slowly. "…other than being bounced around like a tennis ball when we went off the trail…um, yes ma'am, uh, Colonel, ma'am." He shook his head and immediately regretted it, gritting his teeth.

"How's my crew?" he asked groggily.

The scout, who had been checking the HMMWV's gunner, now began checking Casano's driver. After a moment he looked at both the Colonel and the Sergeant.

"They are both wounded, Pulkownik, but not seriously as far as I can tell." He reported.

Casano's driver began coughing and immediately winced "Damn, that hurts!"

"Quit your whining, Corporal, the Colonel's man says you're not badly hurt,"

"Then I guess some of your lucky mojo is rubbing off on me, Sergeant," he replied before wincing again, "But I think I might have busted something in the rib area."

Luisa was about to relax when her Corporal and his scout came running up to the HMMWV.

"Pulkownik! The Marine Lieutenant is seriously wounded! His men need more medical care then we can provide!"

She jerked her head at her Specialist. "Get over there and do what you can!"

He nodded and quickly headed for the Lieutenant's Hum-vee.

Luisa handed the Kapral her radio. "Raise Sierzant Lesinski and tell him to contact Colonel Baxter immediately!"

"At once Pulkownik," the Corporal replied.

"Tell him the situation, and then tell the Sierzant to get our medical unit over here now!"

For a moment, all Faith could see was blinding smoke.

It was much like the scene at the DFAC when the insurgents sent that Katushya rocket into it.

Slowly, shapes began to coalesce in the smoke. It was obvious one HMMWV was on its side. A second was on fire.

"Colonel!" she yelled.

Her voice was lost in the cacophony of noise that threatened to deafen her. She could see Bud moving toward the burning Hum-vee; she followed him. Bud pulled the door open and immediately staggered backwards as if hit by an unseen blow. Faith had to look away quickly to keep from throwing up. The driver's face was a mess, she was certain he was missing an eye.

Fighting her heaving stomach, she reached into the cab of the truck. As she pulled on the moaning driver, she noticed Bud's hands were helping her.

"Let's move him over there!" Faith yelled as loud as she could. Bud nodded his agreement. They both gently carried the badly wounded man away from the burning wreck.

A Corpsman joined them and the three carried the Marine to the waiting HMMWV ambulance, where he was handed over to three other Corpsmen who immediately began working on him.

Without saying anything to Faith, Bud walked as fast as his leg would allow back over to the HMMWV that sat on its side like a broken toy. He could see Sergeant Dewert scrambling up the side of the wreck as it wobbled precariously.

"Sergeant! Be careful!" Bud yelled.

Bud Roberts was close enough that the Sergeant heard his shouted warning and nodded his acknowledgement. Then he began fighting with the torn fabric door of the Hum-vee.

As he wrestled with the door, the truck rocked slowly back and forth. With a yank that threatened to overturn the HMMWV he wrenched open the door and peered down into the crew cab.

Bud in the meantime had braced himself against the side of the truck, hoping he was giving it some stability.

"Lieutenant!"

"Yes Sergeant?"

"I can't get into the cab. You're smaller than me; do you think you could give it a try?"

"Sure, uh, wait a minute." Bud Roberts hurried grabbed at his artificial leg and swiftly undoing the straps, pulled it off and shoved it under the wobbling truck.

It worked. The truck's wobbling ceased. "Okay, come on down and I'll trade places with you!"

Dewert quickly joined him. "Thanks sir, whatever you – oh God! Your foot, your leg!" Dewert cried, looking panic stricken at the young JAG Corps officer.

"It's all right, Sergeant!" reassuring the shocked NCO. Obviously Dewert had never realized that Bud Roberts had an artificial leg. "Just give me a boost up there and hope my leg keeps this thing steady!"

Bud's take-charge attitude caused the Sergeant's training to override his emotions.

"Aye sir!" He said grabbing the JAG Corps junior officer and lifting him. "Up you go!"

Bud lowered himself carefully into the tilted interior of the truck and immediately heard weak coughing below him.

"Are you okay?" Bud called down.

"I don't…know…" came back the weak voice from inside the cab of the truck, "Can't…get unhooked…."

"Hang in there; I'm almost to you…."

No response.

Bud could see the Marine was still strapped into their seat, but couldn't tell whether it was a male or female who was buckled into the driver's seat.

"How bad are you hurt?" Bud said as he reached the Marine. He could now see it was a young female. She was barely breathing. Bud had force his mind not to think of all the blood that was leaking out of her. He pressed his hand deep into one of the wounds. He would have used the clotting powder that had been issued to him when they arrived in Iraq, but there were so many wounds…and they all looked critical. Rather they trying to decide which wound was the worst and sprinkle powder on it, he elected to close off a spurting wound with his bare hands.

"You're going to be all right," he said with a calm that surprised even him. "Just lie still."

"You're a good liar, sir." The pale female Marine gave him a weak smile.

Bud didn't know what to say to that. He gave her a smile back. "Just hang in there, Marine…."

"Aye, aye, sir," she replied, a strength coming into her voice that wasn't there before.

South of Mirbullah, Holding Area Montana

Eagle squadron, VF-218, wheeled around again. Harm hated this waiting, but that was part of it. Long periods of waiting, practically loitering; followed by short intensive bursts of combat.

Harm looked over to his left and saw the Patrick Henry's Marine F-18D squadron, better known as Hunter squadron, lining up to begin their refueling from the airborne tanker.

"Eagle 41 to Eagle 21; it's getting crowded up here, Hammer. How much longer are we going to flying circles up here? Over."

"You're not living up to your nickname, Eagle 41." Harm replied with a twinkle in his eye. He looked back at Pete who was also smiling. Eagle 41's nickname was 'Mr. Cool'. "We'll get into the action soon enough."

The pilot's response sounded a little embarrassed. "Roger that, Hammer; Eagle 41, out."

Bud heard an audible snap and immediately thought that his artificial leg which had been jammed under the truck had collapsed.

Suddenly the sideways vehicle began to rock. Bud grabbed the female Marine, if they were going to roll over; then he was going to do his best to protect her.

That was when the roof of the HMMWV came loose and pulled away from the body of the truck. About half dozen Marines held onto the damaged roof assembly, carrying it away, so that Bud could see smoky daylight.

Faith Coleman's face appeared in the smoke as several other hands reached in from seemingly every direction, trying to get a hold on Lieutenant and the badly wounded Marine.

"Easy Lieutenant," called out a rough voice through the smoke, "We've got her!"

But Bud could see they didn't know she still had her seatbelt on. "I'm undoing…her belt; she's still strapped in!" he replied. He did his best to ignore her injuries and undo the belt.

Bud felt hands holding him steady while the others carefully lifted the badly wounded Marine out of the mangled driver's seat. The young JAG Corps officer could not bring his eyes to the Marine's body as they lifted her away from him.

"Can you stand, Lieutenant?" It was Sergeant Dewert.

Bud nodded and managed to stand erect, holding on to the overturned HMMWV's roll bar for balance. Faith handed him his bent artificial leg.

"Thank you," was all he could manage to say to her before he started strapping it back on. She nodded silently.

In the meantime the group of Marines had managed to carry Briggs' driver to another HMMWV ambulance that had just arrived. The three Corpsmen who had arrived with the truck motioned for the Marines to put her on nearby map table rather than putting her in the HMMWV's cargo/patient area.

Ashton Briggs seemed to have been struck dumb. All the MEU Commander could do was stare at the chaos going on around him.

Faith didn't know what to make of his fugue. She looked around and saw Andrew Baxter, directing some other Marines to put out the burning Hum-vee so it wouldn't become a target for more insurgent fire.

"Oh God! It hurts!" The wounded Marine screamed.

"Give her more morphine!" snapped one of the corpsman to the other two. "I've got her bleeding stopped!"

The younger of the three jabbed another syringe into the woman's fragile looking body.

Bud walked over to where they were working. "Is there anything I can do?" Bud asked quietly.

The Corpsmen watched as the woman's bloody hand reached for Bud. "Stay with me, please…." she pleaded.

The Corpsmen exchanged looks with the JAG Corps officer and shrugged. He had his answer.

Bud moved in, squatted down and took her hand. "I'm right here, Corporal, I'm not going anywhere."

"It's Danielle, sir, everybody calls me Dani." she managed to get out. "What's your first name?"

"It's uh, Bud, Dani; just call me Bud." Bud was flustered, but he knew that based on the amount of blood she'd lost, the request wasn't one he should deny her.

"Bud, what a cute name…"

If this had taken place in another time, another situation, Bud Roberts would have beaten a hasty retreat from this woman who obviously liked him. But Bud reminded himself also that she probably knew she was dying and she didn't want to die alone. Instead he held her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She did the same in return.

"Bud, tell my parents…"

While Briggs' driver and Bud talked to each other, the Corpsmen continued to work furiously.

Faith stood in the background, watching all of this. A part of her was detached; somehow she had forgotten all about the dirt and germs around her – maybe it was her training. But the fact she was beginning to be creeped out by the dirtiness and the mess meant it had only been a temporary reprieve from her need for order and cleanliness.

As she stood there, a Navy Captain, close to her age moved up beside her. "Is she the one who was trapped in the overturned Hum-vee? He whispered in her ear.

She turned her face to meet his. "Yes, she is, Captain, why?" she replied.

"She's not going to make it, Commander." He said simply as if talking about the weather. "She's lost too much blood and her injuries are too severe-"

"Now you listen to me, Captain," There was an unexplained anger that was boiling up inside her. She didn't know why she felt this way, maybe it her defense of the defenseless. "As long as she is alive, she has a fighting chance. Your job, whether you like it or not, is to try and save her. Now, either you get over there and do your job or I'll see you court-martialed for dereliction of duty! Are we clear, Captain?"

"But Commander-"

"I said, are *we clear*, Captain?" Faith's voice could have flash frozen water at this moment. Her facial expression had hardened considerably in last few moments. She was daring him to say something stupid. At this moment, almost anything coming out of his mouth would have been stupid.

"I…Aye, aye, ma'am." Except that. He quickly moved over to the three Corpsmen and began giving them orders to try and save the Corporal's life.

"Bud, I don't think I'm going to make it…" the young Corporal said. Bud noticed for the first time that her hair was the same color as Harriet's. The Captain and Corpsmen continued to work furiously around her. Her nearly empty IV bag was swiftly replaced by another one.

"You *are* going to make it, Dani; that's an order," Bud said sternly to her.

"I'll try sir." she said through teary eyes.

-TBC…


	77. Chapter 76

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 76

"Javelin Oh One, this is Javelin Oh Three, Alf and I are ready to take over."

Abner Scott pushed his Harrier back into the clouds that were dotting the battlefield. He hated leaving a 'party' still in progress, but he had bigger concerns. "Roger that, Javelin Oh Three; Oh Two and I are bingo fuel, but we'll be back."

"Roger that Oh One," 2nd Lieutenant Miles Carter said smiling at the Schwartzeneggeresque phrase as he looked over at his wingman. "We'll keep the party hopping for you…."

The two Dodge pickup trucks rolled into the compound. Mac looked out her window and watched as several women wearing burkas scuttled out of the way and suddenly the Light Colonel felt like she needed to cover her face.

She turned around and looked in the bed of their pickup truck. Kayce and Logan had already covered up appropriately. Mac took a cue from them and covered her face so only her eyes were showing.

Gunny looked over at Mac and gave her a greasy smile. Mac knew the look was for show, but it unnerved her nevertheless.

"Be glad Sahood doesn't have you ladies wear the face covering too. But you'd better be prepared for some harsh looks from some of his soldiers."

Mac turned and looked at him, trying to be as intimidating as she could with only her eyes showing. "And why is that, Master Guns?"

Gunny Galindez's act may have been for show, but the twinkle in his eye was definitely aimed at her – probably to get her ready for what she was about to face. "Because his foot soldiers think all women should wear the face covering. That includes you, Colonel."

"Colonel Briggs!"

Ashton Briggs was still numbed by all that had just happened. Ignoring the screams and calls for help, he walked away from the carnage. He couldn't believe it. One of the first women in his command had been killed by a stray mortar round. Sergeant Greta Alvarez had only been in his command team for a few weeks. (I've gotten a woman killed…a woman – a woman in my command – there will be an investigation – my career is over-!)

"Colonel!"

Ashton shook his head trying to clear the demons from his tormented mind. When he opened his eyes, his Assistant Commander, Andrew Baxter, was giving him a look of concern.

"Sir? Are you all right?" asked Gatorforce Leader.

"I'm fine, Baxter," Bullgator said brusquely as only a senior office can, "Don't mother hen me-"

"No sir, I wouldn't do that, Colonel," Colonel Baxter said quickly trying to avoid yet another confrontation with his senior officer, "but Major Kelly does need to talk with you. Do you want me-?"

Sometimes it seemed to Briggs that his Assistant Commander prattled on like a doddering senile old fool.

"I'll handle it Baxter!"

"Aye sir," Baxter replied with obvious restraint as he handed him the radiophone.

"This is Bullgator, Come in Bravo Leader-"

A harried voice cut him off. "Bullgator! We're up to our eyeballs in insurgents! Permission to fall back-"

Lyle Kelly was a good man, but sometimes Ashton had to remind him of that fact. "Negative Two! Hold your position!"

"Bullgator we're under heavy sustained attack, air support is helping some, but either we need reinforcements or I'll have to pull back!"

It was time to add some steel to Kelly's normally iron backbone. "Major, who is running this unit, me or you?"

There was a pregnant pause. Then a humbled response. "You are, sir."

"Do you really want me to send Three to help you?" Despite the demons that plagued him, Ashton Briggs knew that Lyle Kelly could never stand for his longtime rival, Captain Wes Sorenson, Gatorforce Reserve, to provide that help.

"No sir, that won't be necessary." Came back the terse reply. Kelly was smarting, but he'd straighten up and fly right now.

"That's the spirit," he said in fatherly, almost jocular tone. "Now attack, Two! That's the last thing they will be expecting!"

"Aye, aye sir!" It was good to hear the enthusiasm in Major Kelly's voice. (Now for a little added incentive…) he thought.

"We can't let these black-pajamaed Saddam lovers stop us from getting to Baghdad, Two, understand?"

There was another pregnant pause on the other end. "Black pajama-uh, A-aye sir."

Lyle Kelly looked at his receiver. He wasn't sure what Bullgator meant. Perhaps it was a code of some sort….

"Bullgator out." Ashton was pleased that went so well. Just maybe he could—

The CO of the 36th MEU froze when he saw the limp pallid body of another dead female – this one a Corporal - on a makeshift table and that JAG, Lieutenant Roberts, standing next to her. What was he doing? Who was this woman who had died? It couldn't be Alvarez…!)

(She's dead? Alvarez can't be dead…!)

Ashton Briggs looked around; the scene was chaos. There were two battered HMWWVs one of which had obviously burned. What had happened here? Injured Marines all around him. Where was Darcy? She'd help…she had those pills…!)

Sergeant Dewert saw the wild look in Colonel Briggs eyes. "Colonel? Sir, are you injured?"

Then Andrew Baxter looked up. He saw it too – he was just staring at the dead Corporal.

Several people were trying to get his attention but he was ignoring them.

In Briggs' mind, he was back in March 2003. They were getting ready to enter Mirbullah….

Colonel, Gatorforce One reports heavy fighting in their sector…

Enemy mortar rounds are hindering Gatorforce Two's advance…

Faith saw Ashton Briggs moving closer to Bud Roberts. She wasn't about to let him tear the young JAG Corps Lieutenant apart. Not after what he had just been through. She moved toward Briggs as Baxter reached him.

"Colonel…" Gatorforce Leader said quietly to an obviously distraught Bullgator. He put a hand on the Colonel's shoulder

"She's dead…" he said, his voice tinged with disbelief. He turned and faced Baxter. "How could she have died, Baxter? How?" The look on his face made Gatorforce Leader want to turn away.

Not waiting for an answer, a visibly pale Ashton Briggs turned back and looked at the carnage. "How-how did this happen, Baxter? This was supposed to be an easy mission…a snatch and grab…now Alvarez is dead…."

Now Andrew Baxter knew there was something seriously wrong. This wasn't just a simple case of shock. "Sir…Colonel…Sergeant Alvarez, she died two months ago…in that car bomb attack, remember?….Sir, we're not in Mirbullah…do you understand?"

"I don…I…Baxter, nothing's making sense…." There was a pleading look in the old Colonel's eyes. "Her death means the end of my career, Baxter…"

"Sir, listen to me; Sergeant Alvarez is dead. She's been dead for two months…we've been tasked with finding Samir al-Sahood, remember? He attacked JAG Corps Headquarters…."

Briggs' response raised the hairs on the back of Baxter's neck. "JAG Corps Headquarters…attacked? By Samir al-Sahood? What about Saddam…was he involved?" Ashton Briggs sounded like he had just come out of coma.

"Unknown at this point sir." Truth was nobody knew where Saddam was; he had gone underground after the fall of Baghdad and Tikrit in April.

Ashton Briggs walked away from Andrew Baxter as if he were in a fog. His eyes met those of Lieutenant Bud Roberts. Then he looked down at the body.

"That's not Alvarez…who…who is she?"

"Corporal Danielle Weitz, sir" Bud said trying to keep his voice steady, tears were brimming in his eyes. Bud's combat uniform was dotted with bloodstains.

"Your driver, sir. She was waiting in the HMMWV for you when the mortar struck…"

"My driver? My driver…my driver is Sergeant Jenkins…I don't know this woman…."

"Colonel?"

"I said I don't know her, Lieutenant. I'm sorry she's dead, but I don't know her. Where is Sergeant Jenkins?"

"Sergeant Jenkins was wounded while going after you, sir," Faith responded. "He's being airlifted to Baghdad."

"Jenkins…wounded? How? Where's Darcy…Colonel Livingston…I need to talk with her…." Ashton Briggs started to move away from Bud and Faith. But Faith wasn't going to allow that. She stepped in front of him.

"She's on a mission sir," she said coolly, "a recon mission…one you sent her on with Colonel MacKenzie…."

Briggs' eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "A recon mission? Livingston? I did no such thing? Who are you anyway?"

To Faith Coleman's way of thinking only one thing would snap the distraught Colonel back to reality.

"Colonel Briggs you have to snap out of this! It's July 16, 2003 not March! We are in the middle of a combat operation against insurgents and they have just sent a mortar into your command post area! Colonel! Colonel! Do you hear me?"

"I hear you…" Briggs said more like a remorseful husband than Bullgator, CO of the 36th MEU.

"Colonel, these men need their Commanding Officer and that Commanding Officer is you! "Now square yourself away sir! These Marines need your help!"

Briggs looked older than he had ever looked up to this point, but a light of clarity shone through the haze in his mind. "All right Commander…" he said calmly, "What do you want me to do?"

Sahood's safe area

Somewhere North of Mirbullah

Mac and Kayce walked slowly and purposefully as eyes filled with distrust and hatred recorded their every move. Victor/Cesar walked in front of them as a sort of shield.

The Light Colonel didn't see Darcy Livingston anywhere nearby. Nor any of the other members of her recon team. (Maybe they hadn't arrived yet.) She thought to herself.

Victor stopped when he saw an older Arab man approach her. He was a little older than Victor, but just as fit and trim. His hair and beard had just started to go gray.

"Master Gunnery Sergeant Hector Bustamante?" The man said in perfect English. Two other men, bodyguards -both heavily armed- stood near Samir al-Sahood.

Victor nodded. He turned to the two women. "This is Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie and Lance Corporal Kayce Danvers, two of Colonel Livingston's subordinates."

"No doubt people she can trust." Samir said dismissively as he smiled at them. His smile made Mac's skin crawl.

Samir gave Victor an apprising look. "Master Gunnery Sergeant, you look thinner than I remember you being…"

"All that good Marine food, Samir," Victor said jovially, hoping it would smooth over this bump.

Samir chuckled, "Ah yes the famous, or should I say infamous, MREs. Also Colonel Livingston's strict exercise regimen has probably helped…"

"Yes sir."

Satisfied that this indeed was Hector Bustamante, he turned to Mac. "Colonel, forgive my manners. Please remove your hijab. I despise not being able to see who I am talking to."

Mac slowly removed her head covering revealing her face.

Samir nodded his approval at her exotic looks. "You're Persian, yes?"

"My grandmother was Persian. I was born in America…."

"But you still have strong ties to Arabia and Persia, yes? You believe as Colonel Livingston believes?"

Mac nodded. "If you mean do I believe that Islam will eventually triumph over the infidels, then yes."

Victor almost did a double take when the Light Colonel said these cold words. Only Kayce's eyes could be seen, but they also betrayed shock at Mac's words to al-Sahood. Was this really an act, or did some part of her believe what she had just said?

Samir smirked. "And how to do feel about working for Admiral Chegwidden, The United States Navy and Marine Corps Judge Advocate General?"

Mac returned his smirk. "A means to an end, Samir; not unlike the submersion of your cells in the suburbs of Northern Virginia…."

"True, they could be seen that way," he nodded continuing to smile, "but how did you feel about the attack on JAG Corps Headquarters and the deaths of your fellow Marines and Sailors? Some were quite close to you, I believe…."

It was a comment designed to arouse anger and disgust. The Light Colonel's eyes narrowed.

"It was a stupid and foolish assault, Samir." she said in a slow deliberate manner. "A suicide attack that had little, if any, actual gain. A military target would have had far more value; even an attack on the White House or the Capitol or an assault on the Mall would have accomplished more."

No one moved or spoke. Mac chuckled snidely and then gave Samir a sideways look.

"The attack Hamid conducted was largely a failure, Samir. It had the opposite effect you had hoped for and it turned out to be a largely empty symbolic gesture. You killed a few soldiers and civilians whose deaths will now give America an even better reason to wipe out Osama bin Laden and al-Qaeda."

It was deathly silent in the room. Samir's bodyguards looked from Colonel MacKenzie to Samir and back again, their hands holding onto their guns, but strangely, they weren't pointing at the newly arrived Marines anymore.

Samir barked out a harsh laugh. "Ah Sari," he said clucking his tongue like an adult admonishing an errant child, "it is good that poor Hamid is not here to listen to your harsh criticism. But of course, you are right. It was a foolish and stupid operation. I like you, was blinded by earthly love, by the carnal pleasures and was lead to believe this operation was a good idea. In hindsight I now know that it wasn't."

Mac did her best to hide her surprise at his frank comments. Had he figured out what she was trying to do?

"You, on the other hand, were not immune to these temptations of the flesh. Dahab told me you gave in to the charms of a fellow JAG Corps officer and spent the night with him, did you not?"

Victor's eyes flared at that comment. (Commander Rabb and the Colonel?)

"Like you Samir, I have my needs. The JAG Corps Commander was merely fulfilling those. As you have done with Colonel Livingston."

Whether that was another bluff or the truth, Victor couldn't tell. Kayce, though, was deeply disturbed by the Colonel's comments. She wondered if she pulled out her sidearm right now, how far she would get before she was gunned down? At least she might kill this cold-blooded Colonel and this malignant al-Qaeda terrorist.

Then something told her to wait. She wasn't sure what. But at this moment, waiting seemed the best option. She might be given a better opportunity later on.

Samir al-Sahood meanwhile nodded, seeming to digest Colonel MacKenzie's latest revelations. Then he stood and smiled. "Welcome home, Sari."

Luisa Baranova and Sergeant Casano looked up at the guttural growl of a diesel engine which signaled the approach of one of the Marines amphibious assault carriers. The vehicle commander was riding with his hatch open and there were two Marines riding on top of the carrier.

"We're ready to leave, Pulkownik." The junior medical officer said as he came up behind the Polish CO.

Baranova turned and nodded. The medical officer left her side.

"The Marine's battalion aid station is next to the MEU command post," she called out to the medical officer as he headed toward the open doors of the MT-LB ambulance.

"We'll get them to the aid station immediately, Pulkownik," responded the medical officer.

The two personnel carriers passed each other like ships in a channel. Gibbs looked down at Colonel Baranova and the Marine Sergeant standing next to one of the shot up HMMWVs.

"Pulkownik! How bad was it?" Gibbs asked. His sharp blue eyes had immediately picked up on her Polish officer's uniform and her rank.

"One of the Marine light armored trucks ambushed these three HMMWVs," Luisa reported to the Marine, assuming by his bearing that he was a senior officer. "Lieutenant Thomason and five others were badly wounded and are being transported to the Marine Battalion Aid Station. The rest suffered minor wounds. And you are?"

"NCIS Agent Special Agent Gibbs, Pulkownik." Luisa smiled slightly at the correct pronunciation of her rank. "And this is Special Agent DiNozzo." Tony nodded and gave her a brief smile.

"Corporal Jay Raden, boss," Tony said observing the wrecked Hum-vees. "He must've panicked and tried to kill Lieutenant Thomason and the others."

Gibbs fought the urge to say 'Ya think, DiNozzo?' At least Tony was focusing on the case and not the beautiful red-haired female Polish commander talking to them.

He focused his attention again on the Polish contingent Commander. "Which direction did he go, Pulkownik?"

"My scouts said he went down that trail," Luisa said pointing to the dirt trail that lead up a hill and deeper in the woods. "My recon car commander thinks we may have damaged the Corporal's fuel tank, Special Agent."

Gibbs looked down at the dirt trail. Sure enough, there was a trail of fuel leading up the hill. Judging from the amount of spilled fuel, Raden's LAV wouldn't get far.

The Senior NCIS nodded. "Tell your recon commander thank you," Gibbs looked at the AMTRAC commander. "Sergeant, let's go, we just might be able to catch him-"

But Luisa wasn't about to be left on the sidelines. "Special Agent Gibbs? May I point out that you might need some assistance? My reconnaissance car is at your disposal-"

"And I know Corporal Raden, sir-and his crew," Sergeant Casano quickly added. "I just might be able to get them to surrender-"

"As long as you get to come along, correct Pulkownik?" Gibbs really didn't have time for this, but he knew if he brushed her off there would be hell to pay. Not only because she was a member of an allied nation's force, but also because his gut told him Colonel Baranova was not one to sit idly by when action was called for.

"I think my scouts and Sergeant Casano and I would be of valuable assistance to you and your men." Luisa said firmly, sounding very much like a senior military commander of any nation's armed forces.

Tony was grinning at this uncomfortable situation for Gibbs. But he stopped the moment Gibbs turned his head to look at him. "She's right, boss, we could use the backup." Tony said seriously.

Gibbs grimaced in displeasure. For once, DiNozzo was right. And it would have to be involving a woman…

"Follow the trail of fuel, Pulkownik," Gibbs said tersely to the Polish Colonel. "Just don't get too close; we've seen that Raden's willing to injure folks to get away – he may even kill."

Forward Edge of the Battle Area (FEBA)

Northeast of Mirbullah

Corporal Jake Chute's driver [AMTRAC Alpha 020] pulled even with the other carriers of his platoon. The Corporal aimed his 40mm grenade launcher toward the smoking tree line and hillside. "All Seadragon units," he barked into his CVC helmet mike. "Fire at will!"

As Lieutenant Hawkins and his men advanced, the ungainly Marine personnel carriers unleashed a furious volley of grenades at the insurgents' positions.

Threading its way through the parked personnel carriers, Ansel Paige's carrier, Chisel four, moved in front of Hawkins' men and in front of combat engineer Ramon Gutierrez's troops.

Ignoring an occasional RPG rocket which would spiral by, Lieutenant Paige aimed his weapon toward the tree line. As sniper bullets searched for him, he let a flaming gush roar forth. The tree line burst into flame everywhere Paige's weapon was pointed.

Further south, Lyle Kelly watched as Sergeant Mausert in Chisel two did the exact same maneuver. Boiling flames and oily smoke covered the insurgent positions in both areas.

Facing immolation, some of Sahood's troops broke and ran. However others, known in their native language only as 'boyeviki', gathered their own RPO flame throwers and under the cover of the Marine assault, launched their own attack.

In Major Kelly's sector, the steel snout of T-12 Soviet built 100mm anti-tank gun sticking of out a cave opening, roared its reply to Marine assault. Corporal Pell in Bulldog two felt two 100mm rounds slam into his engineer vehicle's thick armor.

In Lieutenant Hawkins' sector, his assistant commander, 1st Lieutenant Wil Price, and Staff Sergeant Mike Kelso urged their men to hold the line under the insurgent counter attack. While this was taking place, Gutierrez's men fought back with their own backpack flame throwers.

The line was bolstered when Lieutenant Dave Rowe and Gunnery Sergeant Sanchez joined the fray. The insurgent assault slowed and then faltered in the face of the Marine carriers, engineering vehicles and Sluggers three and one.

As the insurgent combat engineers withdrew, they left an OT-64 that had just joined them, dangerously exposed. Before it too could pull back, combat engineer Corporal Steve Polk and his squad threw satchel charges at the hapless Czech built personnel carrier as Sergeant Eckart and Lieutenant Paige hammered it with their .50 caliber M2-HB machine guns. The coup de grace to the lightly armored vehicles was delivered by Corporal Jack Keller's squad using SMAW rockets.

Javelin 03 and 04 circled the battlefield, trying to find a trying to find a target in the midst of the savage hand to hand fighting that was taking place below Colonel Baranova's Hinds did the same, but the smoke that now dominated the battle zone also obscured any potential targets that weren't 'danger close'.

Podporucznik [2nd Lieutenant] Stefan Jodlowski was about to suggest to his senior officer that maybe they should break off and return to their base for refueling. Colonel Baranova would not be pleased but they were doing little good—

"Strela Stefan!" Tomaz Wawrzyniak yelled to his wingman through his radio. "Break right!"

Stefan did as he was told, firing flares as he did so. The lone SAM-7 anti-aircraft missile spiraled by and detonated right as Lieutenant Carter's Harrier passed overhead.

Shrapnel from the exploding Strela missile peppered the fuselage of the AV-8B known as Javelin 03.

"What the hell?" Carter barked as his Harrier jump jet shuddered. The fragments were not large, in fact, the main force of the explosion had missed his jet entirely, but those fragments that hit him did so at supersonic speed.

"Javelin 03 this is 04; are you okay?" His wingman 2nd Lieutenant 'Alf' Kensington flew closer to Carter's Harrier which was now trailing a thin line of white smoke.

"I'm gonna have to head for the barn, 04," he reported calmly as if talking about the weather, "my oil gauge indicator is bouncing around like a ping-pong ball and I've got a hydraulic leak."

It only took a split second for Carter's wingman to make his decision. "Hawk One this is Javelin Oh Four, Javelin Oh Three has sustained damage from a SAM. We're pulling out. I'll radio Javelin Oh One and Oh Two and get them back here as soon as possible. Sorry."

On the ground in FiST LAV, Sergeant DeWald shook his head. They just lost a portion of their air support and without Captain Maxwell's helos, it was going to be rough going. "Do what you have to, Javelin; Hawk One out."

Back on the ground things were equally bleak. Packer and Felk's attack had silenced the anti-tank gun, but now they were pinned down at the base of the hill under heavy insurgent sniper fire. The CO of Slugger platoon, Hank Borden, decided that the only way to get them out of there was to rattle those snipers.

"Slugger Four to Slugger Two and Warthog Four, follow my lead, we're gonna get those Marines out of there; watch out for anti-tank missiles and RPGs in the tree line…."

Borden's 'wingman' Corporal Vandergrift responded swiftly to the call. "Slugger Four, this is Slugger Two, roger! Moving out!"

The mine clearing tank, Warthog Four, was closest to the tree line. But Hank was more worried about a surprise attack from their left or right. "Warthog Four; keep your eyes on that tree line but watch your flank; break."

Gunnery Sergeant Dyess in Warthog Four was about to respond when a seemingly abandoned OT-64 on the right of Slugger Four went up with a bang. Dyess yelled into his radio:

"Slugger Four! Threat warning! Contact! CONTACT!"

The explosion of the OT-64 apc was surprising enough, but the bang of the concussion knocked Borden off his perch and landed him in bowels of the tank.

The situation began to unravel in rapid fire fashion.

"Slugger Four this is Slugger Two, one BMP and one tank emerging from the tree line!" Vandergrift barked, "Am engaging now!"

"Gunner! Sabot! Tank!"

As the crack and boom of Slugger Two's 120mm cannon sounded, it was matched by the report from Gunny Dyess's cannon. Both insurgent vehicles were hit and stopped moving. Thick smoke began to pour from every opening of both vehicles. Dyess thought it might be another insurgent trick and started to order another round put into both until they detonated, throwing debris in every direction.

"They must've been stuffed to the gills with ammunition, Corp!" Slugger Two's gunner yelled.

At the other end of the battlefield Sergeant Phil Watkins of Slugger Three had just had his own explosive experience with the insurgent vehicles.

"Sergeant?" Watkins's loader was trying to steady the injured NCOIC who had slumped down inside the tank. His wounds were thankfully superficial, but Phil was still dazed.

"We got suckered…." Watkins groaned trying to clear his head. "Those armored personnel carriers and tanks are booby trapped! They'll blow us to kingdom come if we stay here. Get us out of here and warn the Lieutenant…"

"Aye, aye, Sergeant!" the driver yelled As Slugger three began to reverse off the battlefield Watkin's loader put on Watkin's CVC helmet and barked into the radio mike.

"SLUGGER THREE TO SLUGGER FOUR! BAD GUYS ARE PACKING A KNOCKOUT PUNCH! CLEAR OUT BEFORE YOU BECOME A TARGET!"

Slugger Four though, was having his own problems.

"Lieutenant! The fire warning light is on!" Reported his driver.

"The emergency lights just went on too," he quickly added.

His grim report was matched by the gunner who announced that he had warning lights blinking too.

The tank which had been moving slowly past the personnel carrier suddenly lurched.

"She's just aborted!" the driver announced.

Hank Borden shook off his grogginess and climbed back up and opened the turret hatch. Despite the bullets angrily whining over his head, he immediately saw the trouble; black smoke was beginning to pour from the right engine grill of the Abrams tank.

Energized by the sight, Hank grabbed a fire extinguisher as he yelled down into the turret interior. "Abandon tank! Dismount and set up a defensive perimeter!"

Like animals flushed from their nest, the crew of Slugger Four climbed out of their disabled tank carrying rifles, pistols and fire extinguishers.

As Lieutenant Borden and his driver fought the stubborn fire, his loader and gunner traded shots with the insurgents who seemed to be all around them.

-TBC…


	78. Chapter 77

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 77

Colonel Briggs' Command Post

Sergeant Dewert ran over to Faith, Andrew Baxter and Ashton Briggs. "Sirs! The insurgents have turned their vehicles into mobile improvised explosive devices; Slugger Four is disabled and requesting assistance!"

"Slugger Four disabled?" Briggs said in a bewildered voice. The JAG Commander wanted to shake Ashton Briggs but she knew it wouldn't do any good.

"What about Major Kelly and Gatorforce Two?" Baxter asked.

Sergeant took a breath. "Holding their position for the moment, but they can't reach Slugger Four, sir."

Baxter turned to the MEU CO. "Sir, we have to do something!"

"I don't know—I don't know what to do…" Ashton Briggs sounded lost. "Where's Sergeant Jenkins?"

Andrew grabbed the MEU CO by his shoulders. "He's on his way to Baghdad, sir. Colonel, sir, we need more air support- we need our helos…"

Briggs looked at Baxter's mouth like he was trying to understand a foreign language. "The Helos? Where are they? Why aren't they here?"

"You grounded them, Colonel," Faith Coleman replied, "because of Lieutenant Luken's actions…."

Ashton Briggs turned to her. "I grounded them? Why would I do that?" She could see by the look on his face that he didn't know who she was.

Faith Coleman and Andrew Baxter exchanged grim looks. "Sergeant Dewert, go get the Captain." Andrew ordered.

The unnerved Sergeant nodded. "Aye sir." And headed over to the HMMWV ambulance.

Baxter took the MEU CO's hand like he was guiding an elderly gentleman to his seat. "Colonel Briggs, why don't you come and sit over here, sir?" Faith followed them.

Briggs' confusion only seemed to grow. "Baxter, what's going on?"

"It will be all right, sir." Andrew Baxter said gently.

The naval doctor and Bud Roberts, led by Sergeant Dewert, made their way over to where Ashton Briggs was sitting.

"Has the Colonel been injured?" asked the Captain looking for signs of obvious injury on the MEU CO.

The assistant CO knew of no other way he could broach this. "Captain, the Colonel appears to have suffered a mental breakdown. He thinks we're back in March…."

The Captain looked briefly at Andrew Baxter and then at the MEU CO.

"Colonel?"

"Yes Captain?" It was obvious that something was wrong. Briggs and the doctor had talked on several occasions since he transferred in just days ago. Now it was as if the Colonel didn't recognize him.

"Sir, do you know who I am?" He took out a penlight and checked his eyes for any evidence of drugs in his system or some type of hidden injury. Nothing.

Briggs looked from the doctor to Andrew Baxter, confusion and frustration filling his features. "Baxter, what is going on? Who is this Navy doctor and where is ours?"

Andrew Baxter exchanged a quick look with the doctor. "He's in Baghdad, awaiting transfer to back to the States, sir." Baxter didn't have the heart to tell him he was facing criminal charges for his collusion with Darcy Livingston and Captain Lewis.

He had been one of Ashton Briggs' best friends.

The JAG Corps Commander spoke up. "Captain, the Colonel has had a nervous breakdown; he thinks it's March 2003."

The Captain wasn't a fan of this JAG Corps officer, given their earlier confrontation, but it was obvious that there was something seriously wrong with Ashton Briggs.

"Colonel what day is this?"

"What do you mean?"

"What is today's date, sir?"

Briggs looked momentarily irritated. "Captain, did you just crawl out from under a rock? It's the 25th of March, 2003. We're getting ready to assault this Iraqi village and you're asking me what date it is? I don't have time for this-"

Colonel, please sit, sir." Andrew Baxter said in a gentle voice. Ashton Briggs looked up at him for a moment and started to say something but then seemed to think better of it and sat back down as asked.

The Captain looked to the Assistant MEU CO for an answer.

"We assaulted the town of Mirbullah on 25 March 2003," Baxter explained.

Bud Roberts could only stare at the Colonel. Briggs saw the blood on his uniform.

"Lieutenant? How did your uniform get bloody? Are you injured?" It was obvious he didn't even recognize the young JAG Corps officer.

Andrew Baxter took Faith Coleman and the doctor to one side.

"Captain I need you to pronounce Colonel Briggs medically unfit to lead this command. Commander, I want you to be my witness to this."

Faith nodded silently. Normally she might have a sarcastic self-satisfied smile at having won another battle. But this wasn't just another battle. Ashton Briggs had been a capable commander in his time, but now he had a debilitating disease that was affecting his ability to lead. But that didn't mean he should be accorded any lack of respect due to what had happened to him.

Sahood's safe area

Somewhere North of Mirbullah

Mac , Victor and Kayce joined the other members of her recon team who were sitting outside next to their vehicles. Doc Yader stood up first. "What do we do now, ma'am?"

"We wait, Corpsman," Mac couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something was off about Doc Yader. Most Corpsmen she had known weren't eager for combat. Mac looked over at the children who were hanging off the insurgent BMP yelling and playing. The crew, a mix of former Republican Guard and some of al-Sahood's men, smiled and laughed as they loaded ammunition into the venerable but still dangerous vehicle.

"How long, Colonel?" Vicky Logan asked.

"Till Colonel Livingston makes her appearance, Logan." Mark Dallas said quietly trying not to draw undue attention to their group.

Mac nodded, keeping her eye on the insurgents milling around them. "Burges, Williams; make it look like you need to do maintenance on these trucks. The rest of us will mingle and see if we can learn where Sahood is hiding the missile trucks…."

"Aye, aye, Colonel." Sal Williams looked at Don Burges. "Let's get to work, Don."

They immediately walked over, opened the doors of their trucks and popped their hoods. In minutes both men were busy puttering around their engines. The group of children chattering incessantly moved over to them and hung around the vehicles. A couple of guards pointed and smiled at the children.

"Okay, now we mingle," said Mac to the others.

Victor grabbed Sergeant Witt as he started to separate from the rest of the group, "You stick close to me Witt- in case we have to call for an emergency evac outta here."

Frank Witt, gave the Master Guns a nervous smile. "Sure Master Guns, whatever you say…"

"Lieutenant Flemming you stay with us too," Mac added.

Oscar Flemming nodded. "Aye ma'am."

"Everyone keep alert and watch your chemical detection kits; if you get any signal, shake the thing like its malfunctioning – my guess is Darcy meant for us to disable this equipment before we got here…."

Staff Sergeant Dallas and the others nodded.

"Now we just walk around, casual like. Remember, we're all allies here. Don't give Sahood guards any reason to get suspicious…"

The members of Mac's recon team walked around nonchalantly as Don and Sal continued to work on their trucks.

Holding Area Montana

"Eagle 21 this is Pie Tin, acknowledge."

Harm smiled at the code name for Patrick Henry. They had chosen 'Pie Tin' because although 'Meat Loaf Pan' would have been more appropriate, the intel guys didn't like that code name, so they went with 'Pie Tin'.

"This is Eagle 21. Go ahead Pie Tin…"

"Gatorforce Leader has requested air support. Eagle squadron has been tasked to cover Hunter squadron as it assists Gatorforce. Acknowledge."

Harm looked around at his squadron. They were itching to get into the action, but if they wasted all their ordnance to help Gatorforce, they would have to go back to the Henry and re-arm. Harm knew if they did that, they would be out of the operation.

But the aviator/lawyer knew that if Gatorforce, that is, Colonel Briggs was requesting air support, they must really be in a bind. Harm knew they had to do this, but he couldn't just present this action, fait acompli, to the men and women of Eagle squadron. He knew that even if he had to, he could split the squadron in half with one part attacking Objective India, and the other half helping Gatorforce. He hoped he didn't have to do that because regardless of what it cost him, he had to help Gatorforce; Bud and Sturgis were there.

Harm could see that Pete Gibbons was watching him. "Wait one, Pie Tin, over."

"Roger, Eagle 21; standing by…" Harm switched his radio to the squadron net.

"Eagle squadron, this is Hammer. Gatorforce, a Marine Expeditionary Unit, has requested our support. Be advised if you agree to help this unit, be stingy with your ordnance. Because if we spend it all helping Gatorforce we'll have to head back the Henry and be out of the game."

No one voiced an objection. Even Pete nodded his approval. "After we make our pass to support Gatorforce, we are to rendezvous back here at Holding Area Montana for refueling before going on to our primary objective, India. Anyone damaged while supporting Gatorforce is to head back to the Henry or nearest air base, acknowledge."

It only took the men and women of Eagle squadron seconds to absorb this new mission and respond to Harm. Nicole answered first.

"Eagle 22, acknowledged."

"Eagle 23, acknowledged."

"Eagle 24, acknowledged."

And so it went, until all members of VF-218 replied to Harm's orders. They were all on board. No dissent.

The Eagle squadron Commander reported back the Patrick Henry. "Pie Tin, Eagle squadron acknowledges."

Sahood's safe area

Somewhere North of Mirbullah

It was the longest thirty minutes of Mac's life. If she had not known better, thanks to her internal clock, she would have sworn it had been at least an hour, maybe two, since they first entered al-Sahood's compound.

No one in her group had found any evidence of where the missing SCUD TELs were located as they walked around the safe area.

Quick surreptitious shakes of the head by Victor, Kayce, Staff Sergeant Dallas, Sergeant Szymas, and Lance Corporal Bledsoe indicated they couldn't find any trace of the chemicals that Sahood was supposed to be using against the MEU. Maybe the al Qaeda leader had decided not the use the chemical cocktail his cohorts had created. (Or maybe Webb's intel was faulty…but the report had been verified by Scimitar and Meg Austin….)

As the Light Colonel struggled with these thoughts, three more Dodge pickup trucks entered the compound. With dust clouds still swirling around the three new arrivals a woman, covered appropriately, got out of the lead truck. Mac knew the moment she saw her that it was Darcy.

Iraqi Battalion Defensive Position [IBDP]

Somewhere North of Mirbullah

Mulazim [1st Lieutenant] Faruk Ahmed watched as his huge 8x8 truck rolled out of the underground shelter. The pale sand colored ZIL-135L4 cross-country launch vehicle was followed by another ZIL with crane assembly and three missiles followed by another ZIL truck carrying the dangerous looking Luna-M or R-75 Free Rocket Over Ground-7 [FROG-7]. The three vehicles growled and snorted like subterranean beasts rudely awakened from a peaceful slumber.

As the three all-terrain trucks rattled past him, he was somewhat ashamed that they had not freshened the paint jobs on these vehicles or at least their faded red Republican Guard triangles. But then, he reminded himself that was a symbol of an old deposed regime. The great Saddam was now cowering in hole somewhere near his native Tikrit like some common farm pest. No, these Afghanis, had the right idea. Strike back, hard.

Faruk smiled as three more vehicles, these were the massive MAZ-543P 9M117M1 TELs [Transporter Erector Launchers], rumbled out into the bright daylight. Each vehicle sported the same faded colors and each carried an ominous looking SS-1C R-17E tactical missile. (Yes,) he thought with a grim smile. (The Americans may have decimated the 223rd Operational Tactical Missile Brigade but [with al-Sahood's help] they would have the last word. And this time, the Americans would be the ones to suffer!) The al Qaeda leader's technicians had promised him he would have operational vehicles and they were true to their word.

As Faruk moved to join his missile crew, some of al-Sahood's technicians had come out to watch the procession. Mulazim Ahmed and his unit of nonoperational missiles would be making a sacrifice worthy of the greatest Shahids, or Martyrs. They hoped that Allah would grant him a great reward, even if he did not know he was basically committing suicide to further a larger cause.

Deep in the underground garage, Ra'id [Captain] al Bazz prayed to Allah that Faruk be granted a quick painless death. With his prayers completed, the Republican Guard officer stood up and walked over to his awaiting vehicle crews to make sure his unit was ready for its strike against the Americans.

Forward Edge of the Battle Area (FEBA)

Northeast of Mirbullah

Acting CO Andrew Baxter didn't waste any time alerting everyone to the change in command. He turned to his AMTRAC commander and acting aide.

"Sergeant Dewert!"

"Aye Sir!"

"Relay the following to Gatorforces' One and Two; any remaining Hum-vees or Amtracs that haven't joined the fighting yet are to move to flank positions!"

Sergeant Dewert smiled for the first time since this action started. "Aye, Colonel, flank positions!"

As he began relaying the new orders to Gatorforce, Colonel Baxter turned to Faith and Bud. "Where is Special Agent Gibbs?" he asked. With all that had happened Baxter had forgotten where the Senior NCIS Agent had gone.

"He went after Corporal Raden," Faith replied.

Baxter wanted to say, 'In an Amtrac?' but he knew better than that. Damato was probably pushing that P7 to its limit trying to catch Raden. (Damn! Raden, Lewis, Wilbane, Richards, Secord - just how many in Gatorforce were working for Livingston?)

"Colonel!" Dewert was holding up his radio phone for Baxter. "There's another Polish officer on the line asking for permission to help out Gatorforces One and Two!"

(Luisa, you wily fox,) Andrew thought as he took the phone. "This is Colonel Baxter,"

"Colonel, I am 1st Lieutenant Korczak of the 12th Motorized Rifle Division, mine clearing tank platoon. I was told by my commanding officer, Colonel Baranova, that you might need some support in routing a Fedayeen road block."

Andrew Baxter shook his head and smiled. Such diplomatic way for him to say; 'Luisa Baranova knew you would need our help.' He cleared his throat. "Gatorforce would gladly appreciate any support our Coalition partner can offer us in this clearing operation, Porucznik." He said glibly.

Baxter could hear the grin in the Polish Officer's voice. "Excellent Colonel; my Reconnaissance Section and our Motorized Rifle Company, lead by Captain Chidorz, will join your Marines shortly."

Sahood's safe area

Somewhere North of Mirbullah

"Colonel MacKenzie!" If Darcy was surprised to see Mac and her team was still alive, she didn't show it.

Mac nodded to her senior officer. "Ma'am…."

Kayce stood over by the Don, Sal and the two pickups and watched this interplay carefully. Kayce's sniper instinct also told her they were being watched – not only by Samir's men, but by Darcy's as well. Her counterpart, Sergeant Enrico Gonsalves, sat beside one of their pickup trucks, working on his Barrett sniper rifle. He looked up every once in a while and gave Kayce an evil smile.

"Did you have any problems getting here?" Darcy asked nonchalantly.

(Only if take into account Staff Sergeant Reynolds and Corporal Bullard tried to kill us) Mac thought grimly. "None Colonel," she answered.

"You mean Corporal Bullard didn't kill Sergeant Szymas and destroy one of your trucks?" It was a comment designed to startle – to show just how much Darcy was in charge of things.

Mac didn't let that rattle her. "The Corporal did manage to destroy one of our trucks, but instead of killing his intended target, he killed Sergeant Armstrong instead." Mac said coolly, trying to sound miffed about Bullard 'messing up'.

Her news didn't faze Darcy one iota. "So where is Bullard now?"

"He and Staff Sergeant Reynolds took off when they realized they had killed the wrong man, ma'am."

Darcy shook her head then looked at the Light Colonel with a cold smile. "They made a mistake but they got one of their targets, Colonel. You see, cher, Bullard was supposed to kill Sergeant Szymas and Corporal Willet as well as Sergeant Armstrong."

"Yes ma'am, I know," Mac replied a blasé tone in her voice. But inside she was horrified at what Colonel Livingston had just told her. "So, do you want us to go after them?"

"No, cher, that won't be necessary," A satanic look that Mac had never seen before took over Darcy's features. "Samir's men and the Fedayeen will make short work of them. I can't have sloppy operatives in my operations."

"Understood ma'am" Mac said nodding. In the back of her mind she wondered if she would get out of this whole mess alive.

Forward Edge of the Battle Area (FEBA)

Northeast of Mirbullah

"Sir, Commander Rabb wants to speak with you," Sergeant Dewert handed the phone to Colonel Baxter. "His call sign is Eagle 21, Colonel."

Andrew Baxter gave the Sergeant a puzzled look. He had wondered where the Navy had dragged Commander Rabb off to - now he was going to find out. "Eagle 21 this is Gatorforce Leader, go ahead…"

"Gatorforce Leader, Eagle squadron is about 20 miles out…we can make one pass before we head to our primary target." The JAG Corps aviator/lawyer replied as he and the rest of Eagle Squadron left Holding Area Montana, headed for Mirbullah.

(We?) Up till now Andrew Baxter had only thought of Harmon Rabb, jr. as a Navy JAG Corps lawyer. He'd never thought of him as an aviator. "Commander, are you leading Eagle Squadron?"

There was a momentary pause.

In the Tomcat, RIO Pete Gibbons smiled at the question. Harm looked back at his smiling RIO and looking somewhat uncomfortable with what had just taken place, gave his answer.

"Affirmative Gatorforce Leader."

While Baxter digested this, Sergeant Dewert gave him an update on the battle. "Colonel, Major Kelly reports Chisel Two has just been disabled while trying to reach Slugger Four."

"Wait one, Commander…"

"Standing by, Colonel…"

Baxter turned to Dewert. "Tell Kelly to get both crews out of there – Commander Rabb's squadron is getting ready to strike the insurgent positions. I'll tell Rabb to combat loss the vehicles."

But that option was quickly snuffed by Dewert's update to the situation. "Both vehicle crews are pinned down, Colonel, and Major Kelly says they can't reach them in time,"

"Dammit!" Andrew Baxter swore. He didn't like his next option, but that this point they didn't have much choice.

"Be advised, Eagle 21 that your targets are danger close. I say again, your targets are danger close, acknowledge."

Harm Rabb paused. Baxter wondered if Rabb was going to abort the mission. Then he got his answer. "Roger Gatorforce Leader, We'll do our best, Eagle 21, out."

Forward Edge of the Battle Area (FEBA)

Gatorforce Two Sector

Sturgis Turner stood in the hatch of the command HMMWV for the 2nd Tank Battalion's Scout TOW group that was part of the 36th MEU's Rapid Response Team. In the adjoining hatch next to him stood Staff Sergeant Lawrence [Tin Man] Timmerman.

The Bubblehead watched as the remaining AMTRACs of Gatorforce Two joined them and then they both proceeded to the flanks of Gatorforce's assault line.

Sturgis could have remained at Camp Chesty Puller filling out legal briefs or helping with Captain Johnson's legal backlog, but he didn't want to get left out of the action. It was similar to the way he'd felt when Harm and Mac were chasing down that dirty nuke last spring in the wilds of Afghanistan. He had really enjoyed getting on a sub again and while riding a HMMWV wasn't the same, at least he wasn't going to be left out of the action.

In a way, though, Commander Turner felt like he was on a boat - just one that navigated the land rather than the water. He looked over at Staff Sergeant Timmerman. He could see the NCO wanted to ask him a question. "What's your question, Staff Sergeant?"

"If you don't mind me asking, what did you do before you became a lawyer, Commander?"

Sturgis put his head down and shook his head. He never really knew what to say when people asked him that but the truth. He looked back at the Staff Sergeant. "I was in the Submarine Service."

"That makes sense," Timmerman said more to himself than to Sturgis. The Bubblehead grinned until they bounced over an unusually high furrow.

"Kinda different from riding in submarine, isn't it, sir?" Timmerman said as their Hum-vee bounded over the furrows in the field.

The up and down motion reminded Sturgis of a rough sea, for which, of course, he was more than adequately prepared. "In some ways, Staff Sergeant," Sturgis said evenly.

The ebony Staff Sergeant had a wry look on his face as he noticed the JAG Corps officer's steadiness. "But similar in others, right sir?"

Sturgis gave him a smile in return. "Exactly, Staff Sergeant…"

Then he heard from the cab of the truck the unit CO, 1st Lieutenant Mark Shigeta, responding to a radio call. "Roger wilco, Gatorforce Leader Two, Waco Leader out."

Lieutenant Shigeta looked up at Sturgis and Timmerman. "Major Kelly says the insurgents are pushing more armored vehicles forward."

"More personnel carriers?" Timmerman asked with some disdain in his voice. Truthfully everyone was getting annoyed with the insurgent's mobile IEDs. And as far as the Tin Man was concerned unless you were careless, they were more of a nuisance than a real hazard.

"No, Staff Sergeant," Shigeta answered, shattering his bravado. "Chisel Two reports two T-55 tanks are headed our way…"

Sturgis noticed that Lawrence Timmerman immediately sobered and started to switch his radio from the vehicle intercom to the unit net. "Understood sir; Waco Two, Waco Four, get set; there are two tanks headed your way….Repeat, two tanks are headed your way, over."

Sergeant Frankel Paul riding in Waco Four asked what other members of the Scout TOW team were thinking. "Waco Leader, did you say two tanks? Confirm, over"

Timmerman understood his disbelief "Affirmative, Waco Four, two tanks; you are cleared to engage."

Sturgis imagined that Sergeant Paul was pleased to hear that last part. "Waco Four, roger, cleared to engage…"

As Waco Leader's HMMWV slowed in anticipation of the coming battle, Timmerman groused. "Tanks! Man, where the hell did they get tanks?"

Sturgis with a half smile, looked over at the Staff Sergeant. "You've heard the saying; 'Their's not to reason why', Staff Sergeant…?"

Tin Man grunted; he knew the Bubblehead was quoting the original poem, not the more common paraphrasing of it. "'Their's but to do and die', Commander? Like Captain Miller's squad in Saving Private Ryan? I was kinda looking forward to seeing my wife and kid after this dust-up, sir…."

The Bubblehead shook his head. "Actually I was referring to Tennyson's 'Charge of the Light Brigade.'"

Now it was Timmerman's turn to shake his head. "Same results, sir. Still, I'd like to alter that ending if we can." Sturgis smiled at the Staff Sergeant – it wasn't often he found someone that knew Tennyson.

Sturgis and Timmerman waited to hear the whoosh of the launching TOW missiles shortly followed by the boom of the missiles making contact with their targets. Moments turned into minutes…still nothing. The two men exchanged puzzled looks. Then came the explanation for the 'quiet'. "Waco Two to Waco Leader! Where are the tanks? Over."

The throaty growl of at least two V-55V 580bph liquid-cooled V-12 diesel engines directly to their front indicated to Sturgis that the insurgent's tanks had somehow bypassed Waco Two and Waco Four's positions and were headed directly toward them.

Sturgis wasn't sure what Staff Sergeant Timmerman and Lieutenant Shigeta planned on doing next, but he hoped it was effective.

Shigeta spoke first. "Tin Man! Alert Two and Four we have two T-55's bearing down on us!"

"Aye sir!" The Staff Sergeant replied, then turned to Sturgis. "Time to alter that ending that we talked about, sir."

Sturgis nodded. "Then let's do it Staff Sergeant! Now like we say in the Silent Service; 'March Bearings and Shoot!'"

Lawrence Timmerman already had his radio mike open. "You guys heard the Commander; we got two tanks bearing down on us, make your shots count. All TOW Gunners! Open fire!"

-To Be Continued…


	79. Chapter 78

...For Meritorious Service, Chapter 78

Just South of Mirbullah

As Harm's squadron passed over Mirbullah, it was joined by a flight of Marine Corps

F-18D fighters from VFMA-721 – Patrick Henry's Marine Super Hornet Squadron.

"Eagle 21, this is Hunter 01…." Harm recognized the voice of Major Edward Epperson also known as 'Lucky Eddie'.

"Hunter 01 this is Eagle 21, go ahead…"

"Eagle 21, we're your escort to the battlefield. Be advised; Marine Air Wing units are in the area as are helos from our Polish Coalition forces."

('Mr. Cool' was right; it is getting crowded up here….) "Lead the way Hunter 01, Eagle 21 out."

"Roger wilco, Eagle 21; Hunter 01 out."

In the LAV-FiST, Sergeant DeWald keyed his radio "Hawk One to Gatorforce Leader; Eagle and Hunter are inbound. Will begin artillery strikes after Eagle and Hunter have cleared FEBA, over."

Andrew Baxter and Sergeant Dewert exchanged dour looks. The influx of Polish troops courtesy of Colonel Baranova had bought the battle back to a stalemate, but it had not allowed Gatorforce to take the insurgent positions.

It was a desperate move to have air support releasing ordnance so dangerously close, but it had to be done. "Acknowledged, Hawk One." Andrew said into his mike as he and other members of the Marine command post heard the distant roar of approaching planes.

Sahood's safe area

Somewhere North of Mirbullah

After her close encounter with Darcy Livingston, Mac was more determined than ever to find those chemical laden missiles. The Light Colonel walked back over to Kayce who had just traded her sniper rifle for an M-4A1 assault rifle that she could more easily hide within her clothes. "Let's move away from here; too many eyes on us…."

Kayce nodded. She was wary of the JAG Corps Light Colonel but for the time being she was still her commanding officer. "Aye Colonel,"

Kayce Danvers wasn't convinced that Mac was just playing a role trying to lure her out into the open. She knew she could trust Staff Sergeant Dallas and Sergeant Szymas, but they were nowhere near. She would have even settled for seeing Corporal Bledsoe right then.

Instead her heart sank when Master Guns Victor/Cesar appeared.

"Colonel, I may have a lead on where the missiles are…." he said quietly to the JAG Corps officer.

Mac motioned with her head, "C'mon Corporal, the Master Guns has something to show us…."

The three soldiers moved away from Darcy's men and their pickup trucks. Darcy/Dahab who had been talking with her men, had gone inside the main building and was now talking to Samir. This was as good a time as any to do some 'exploring'.

"What have you found, Master Guns?" Mac asked as they walked.

"You'll see in a moment," Victor said softly to both of them.

Kayce noted they were walking toward two heavily armed men. Double-Cross? Triple-Cross? She was losing count of how many twists and turns alliances had taken in this unit in just the past 24 hours. Although she could probably un-holster her pistol, everyone would probably notice her doing this.

The first of the two burly Arabs burst into smile " Ahlan wi sahlan izzayy-ak/

Greetings how are you?" he said to the Master Guns.

Victor nodded, grinning at him. "Ana kwayyis il-hamd (u) li-llah/I am fine praise to God. Izzayy-ak ya Mustafa/How are you Mustafa?"

"Ana kwayyis il-hamd (u) li-llah/I am fine praise to God ." Mustafa replied with a comfortable laugh. The two men regarded the veiled women with Victor/Cesar.

Victor gazed at the second Arab as if expecting him to say something. When he didn't Victor/Cesar prompted him. "Farik, it is good to see you."

"Ahlan wi sahlan wahas-tu-ni w-allahi/Good to see you, I missed you very much," The man said without any warmth or emotion. It was clear to Kayce there was no love lost between these two.

Mustafa tried to smooth over the awkward moment.

"Huwwa ragil tayyib ya Farik!/He is a good man Farik!" Mustafa said as a way of admonishment of his partner.

He looked apologetically at the three. "You have to forgive Farik, Cesar; the past few months have been very tough-"

"And we could have used your expertise Cesar; your Marines have inflicted heavy losses on our troops!" Farik said cuttingly.

"Farik!" Mustafa said sharply, trying to stop his rebuke.

"Are you questioning Samir's tactics, Farik?" Victor said in a low, tension-filled voice as his eyes bored into Farik.

Farik though, didn't flinch. "We have lost many brave warriors-"

"They have done their duty Farik, now they enjoy paradise." Cesar/Victor was pushing Farik. Mac wondered if this was such a good idea.

"Please Cesar, he didn't mean anything by it," Mustafa pleaded, "It has been very rough here-"

The Light Colonel decided whatever information these two had, it wasn't worth all this. She broke into the conversation.

"La mu'axza yand-ina lissa wara-na miswar tawil…./Excuse us we still have many things to do…." Mac said in a polite, but firm voice to the two Arabs.

Farik though, was not about to let a mere woman stop his justified disagreement with Cesar.

"I am not finished, woman," he said curtly to her.

Mac fought the urge to snap his neck right then and there. However, drawing attention to themselves would not make this end well and they still had to find those missiles…!

"Cesar, I am thirsty," Kayce said in flawless Arabic. Until now she had kept silent, leading Mac to think she knew little, if any, of the language.

Victor was surprised how pleading Kayce's eyes looked. Victor/Cesar turned to his two 'friends'. "My wife is pregnant, I must attend to her-"

Mustafa looked harshly at Farik and then apologetically at Kayce. "Please forgive my friend's rudeness to your friend, and to you."

"Thank you," Kayce said softly, looking down.

Mac was impressed—at least Mustafa didn't call her, her aunt or worse, her mother – though Mustafa and Farik might have shown even more humility if that had happened.

Kayce and Mac turned and started walking away from the three men. Kayce turned her head back toward the three men.

"Husband? Are you coming?" She asked in a somewhat pleading voice.

Mac almost laughed at Victor's response.

"At once, my wife," Excusing himself, Victor/Cesar walked quickly to catch up with them.

"Sorry ma'am," Victor began earnestly when he reached them, "Mustafa knows where the missiles are – I heard him say so just a few minutes ago-"

"Farik wasn't about to let that happen," Mac said dryly as they continued walking. She looked at Kayce.

"You are just full of surprises, Danvers."

"Theatre classes, ma'am," The Corporal said by way of explanation, "plus, I only use my language skills when absolutely necessary."

Mac had a new found appreciation for her aide. She quickly turned her mind back to the business at hand. "Well, this doesn't get us any closer to the missiles. Master Guns, did he say anything we might use to locate them?"

Victor nodded. "He mentioned a spring was nearby…"

I'm still thirsty, my husband" Kayce said in her 'pleading' voice.

Victor did his best not to look perturbed, but her voice was enough to nearly undo him. "Okay, 'wife' let's find that spring that Mustafa mentioned was just west of here…"

"We'll go find it." Mac replied. "You go back to the others; tell them where we're headed…."

Victor gave her a quick nod. "Aye ma'am," and broke away from the two women.

Rover One had a pretty good lead on its pursuers. Unbeknownst to all aboard though, Sierzant Andre Lesinski's gunners had perforated the LAVs armored fuel tank and although it was self sealing, the bullet damage was allowing a fairly large amount of diesel fuel to leak out.

Sierzant Lesinski was careful not to get too close to Corporal Raden's getaway vehicle. Following at top speed behind them was Sergeant Damato's AMTRAC.

Inside the amphibious carrier, Sergeant Canella's men prepared for the upcoming gun battle.

"Sergeant, how many times has your squad gone after an armed suspect?" Tony asked.

The NCOIC of the military police squad threw Tony DiNozzo an irritated grimace. "Look, Special Agent DiNozzo; if you're asking me whether or not they're rookies, they're not; we've gone after heavily armed suspects before-"

"How about suspects driving a fully armed light armored vehicle?" Gibbs inquired bluntly.

Canella gave the Senior NCIS Agent a chagrined look.

The aviator/lawyer had gone over and over what he was going to say to Nicole and the others since the Marines had requested their help. Harm hoped it sounded as good over squadron net as it did in his head. He keyed his radio mike.

"Eagle 21 to Eagle flight; we are approaching FEBA – we'll go in twos- Supergirl and I will go in first, followed Rhino and Flying Cloud, and so on, until we've all made runs on the insurgent positions. Each of us will have a pair of Hornets go in with us. We're to take out any targets that we find in and around the foothills just behind the insurgent positions. Keep in mind some of our targets will be 'danger close' to friendly ground units."

After Harm let those instructions sink in, he continued:

"Keep your eyes peeled for Triple A, Zoos, and SAMs – like the CAG said about Objective India, there wasn't anything in the briefing about them, but you can bet with the kind of defense they are mounting, the insurgents have some kind of anti-aircraft protection around here."

Again he broke off to let the squadron members digest that. Dropping their bombs so dangerously close to the Marines was bad enough, but to have to dodge enemy anti-aircraft fire as well just made the situation that much more dicey.

When no one balked, Harm took that as a positive sign. They were all on board with this crazy stunt. He keyed his radio mike again.

"Eagle flight, go to tactical and report when ready…"

As the members of his squadron reported one by one that they were ready, Harm mentally prepared himself. He said a silent prayer to himself that he wouldn't hit any Marine positions.

When the squadron entered the airspace behind the front lines, Harm opened his mike again. "On the deck ladies and gentlemen! Here we go! Tally Ho!"

Mac and Kayce made their way out of the village headed westward toward the low foothills in the distance.

"Do you think the Master Guns will bring Staff Sergeant Dallas and the others, ma'am?" Secretly Kayce hoped he would then the Staff Sergeant could help her deal with this unpredictable JAG Corps Marine.

"I certainly hope so, Corporal," the Light Colonel replied.

As they drew closer to the low hills, Mac was surprised to see machine gun positions and heavy weapons emplacements dotting the hillsides. (This little surprise would really give Briggs a hard time…we have to neutralize this somehow…)

"Ma'am this wasn't on anyone's intel," Kayce whispered urgently. She prayed Mac didn't already know about this. A part of her really wanted to believe she was a good guy.

"Livingston has set up a real hairball for Colonel Briggs' men. While they are trying to push their way through this, Samir will have time enough to get his missiles into position."

"You two! What are you doing out here?" Barked a burly looking insurgent.

Mac pulled a canteen from within her robes; Kayce followed suit.

"We're going to get water from the stream up ahead," Mac explained.

The insurgent eyed the plastic canteens. "Now where did you get those?"

"Off a pair of Marine scouts after we slit their throats," Mac replied boastfully.

Her laugh and the insurgent's laugh disturbed Kayce; but she tamped down her concern and smiled, showing her obvious pleasure with her friend's deed.

"Fine, fine, go on your way. But don't be long. Or you will have more Marines to kill!"

Both women thanked the brawny insurgent and went down the hill toward the stream.

"We've got to make this look good or that goon will send his friends to investigate." Mac said while looking down at the swirling water. Kayce leaned down and began to fill her canteen.

"Ahk! This water is fetid!" snapped Kayce as she dropped the bottle into the warm water.

Mac smiled at her ingenuity.

"Head upstream; it should be better there…" she called out to her 'friend' as she began to walk away from her.

Kayce picked up her bottle and shook it out, muttering as they moved away from the insurgent's line of sight.

In a few moments, they reached a dry wadi headed westward. Checking to make sure they weren't followed, Mac and Kayce then headed through the dry creek bed.

Mac hoped that this was the right path to the spring that Victor mentioned. They didn't have a lot of time to investigate all the wadis in the area. She also hoped that the 'Master Guns' really would bring the rest of the squad with him before Darcy started to suspect something.

After a few minutes of walking, Mac figured they were far enough away from the insurgents' positions to allow them to get out of the wadi and continue heading west. Slowly and carefully they made their way to the top of the wadi and began moving westward again.

"We've got to hurry Corporal, Mac said urgently "we have no idea how long it might be before he sends his buddies after us…"

Kayce nodded her agreement. "Aye ma'am,"

They soon enough reached a sloping hill that was becoming steeper as it continued downward.

Mac realized that the land in this area was more eroded. They seemed to be heading toward the bottom of a dried up lake bed. But it was more than that; it stretched out like a broad flat plain before them.

The Light Colonel stopped next to some scrub plants and pulled out her binoculars. At the far western end of the lake bed was something looking like a medieval fortification rising from the ground. The dirt and stone berm walls were unmistakable.

"Bull's-eye, Ma'am!" Kayce exclaimed. "One Iraqi built battalion defensive position. Objective India has been located…!"

Mac nodded and handed the binoculars to Kayce; the Light Colonel hadn't expected to find it this close to Samir al Sahood's safe area, but then again, Samir too, seemed full of surprises. This meant that either Samir intended to kill everyone in the area when he fired those missiles at Gatorforce or he had one hell of a contingency plan.

"Wow!" Kayce yelped in surprise as she lowered the binoculars. "Where the hell have they been hiding this stuff?" Kayce handed them back to Mac so that she could take a better look.

"What are you talking about, Corporal?" she said as she focused on the dirt and stone berms again.

"Ma'am I count at least nine oscar tango 64 charlies; two tango-55s with mineplows; one tango 62 with a mine flailing unit; and three tango romeo 77s and that's just on the front berm." She hoped Mac wasn't playing her.

Now Mac could see what Kayce was talking about. There was indeed an impressive array of former Iraqi armored vehicles stationed at the walls of the defensive position. They were well camouflaged so Mac had missed them the first time. The JAG Corps Marine attorney made a mental note that if she got out of this alive; she was going to learn how to spot things like this for herself.

"I thought we'd knocked the stuffing out of any Iraqi units in this area," Kayce continued in stunned voice. "And what do they need with mineclearing equipment anyway?"

Mac now understood what Sahood intended to do – the insurgents on the hill were a sacrifice to get Gatorforce hemmed in. Once that was done, he would fire his missiles which would impact in the Marine positions and kill both the insurgents and Gatorforce. With that done, Samir could then use his cobbled together forces to crush any opposition that remained. The other rockets he had were probably targeted at Mirbullah or even an-Nasiriyah. Neutralized by the chemical attack, his troops could overcome any Coalition defensive positions left standing with their engineering vehicles.

It was a poor man's assault force, but backed by chemical weapons, it would decimate any ground opposition. And depending on where Coalition reaction forces were located, they might not arrive until it was too late to do anything but mount a costly and devastating counter-attack.

The damage though would already be done. Samir would be a martyr above all other martyrs. It would throw the Coalition efforts into chaos; doubts would be raised about America's ability to maintain control in Iraq…and the list of damage went on and on.

(So where are the missile trucks?) Mac couldn't see them anywhere. "If that unit gets rolling, it will flatten any opposition it finds-"

Kayce nodded, "Especially if they use those, ma'am-"

Mac focused just beyond the first defensive line. Coming out of an underground bunker were two ZIL-135 eight wheeled rocket launchers and their re-load vehicle. Behind them were three massive MAZ-543 missile transporter erector launchers [TELS]. These were followed dutifully by an attending Range Rover and GAZ jeep.

Mac recognized the vehicles from her recurrent dream. They looked even more menacing than they had in her vision. "We've got to warn Briggs now," she snapped.

NCIS Headquarters

Abby had worked non-stop since Beauregard Livingston's badly bloated body had been found. The Goth Forensic Specialist had been air-expressed what she needed while Doctor Mallard and Commander Coulter prepared to work on the physical remains, which would arrive much later.

Fornell must have moved heaven and earth to get a flight arranged so quickly. It would be hours before the JAG and NCIS Medical Examiners would learn everything that poor Beauregard could 'tell' them, but Abby was determined to nail Darcy D'Acerville with her own evidence.

Her various lab machines were working at full tilt. It was not much to work with, but some soil samples, some hair samples, a badly deformed ring and broken necklace chain were all that Abby had to go on.

"Come you guys," she urged her machines. "Work like you've never worked before…"

Various charts and tables were thrown up on her display screens showing percentages of chemicals, various dyes, metal compositions, water bacterial makeup and so on.

Abby took a large gulp from her nearby Caf-Pow. The music thrumming from her speakers was a fusion of punk rock and urban beats.

The doors to her lab opened and Tim McGee stared wide eyed at Abby Sciuto.

With her jet black hair in pigtails and wearing that lacy short black dress that peaked out from underneath her pristine white lab coat, Tim was having all sorts of unprofessional thoughts.

"Timmy! I'm so glad you're here!" she said embracing him in an impromptu hug. "What did you find out about our wicked witch?"

Tim cleared his throat and moved away from her toward the computers. "Uh, I need to make connection with Fornell's team in Louisiana; um, may I?" he nodded toward Abby's second computer. Despite having worked with her these past several days, he still felt uncomfortable about her exuberance.

"Be my guest." Tim smiled and began hitting keys. In moments the intimidating image of FBI Special Agent in Charge Tobias Fornell was staring at him.

"Special Agent McGee,"

Tim involuntarily pulled back from the screen. "Ah, Special Agent Fornell,"

Fornell didn't waste any more time talking to this junior agent from Norfolk. (Gibbs must be scraping the bottom of the barrel to get a kid like this up here…) He looked at Abby.

"Ms. Sciuto; what have you two found?"

Tim had heard the scuttlebutt that Fornell was a lot like Special Agent Gibbs, so he ignored the snub.

Abby gave the image of Fornell a big smile. "Well, the hair that you found is definitely Colonel Livingston's-"

The FBI agent dashed any hopes that this might be good evidence. "That doesn't help me Ms. Sciuto; since they both drove it, hair from both of them would be found in the car. Anything else?"

Chastened, she looked at Tim and then back at the screen. "Well there was also some skin on the ring…." Abby began hopefully. She knew it was flimsy but right now it was the best she had.

"Which matched the Colonel?" The FBI Special Agent in Charge wasn't dismissing this.

Now Abby was her old cocky self again. "Yeah!"

But Tobias Fornell was just playing with her. "She could explain that away, Ms. Sciuto – it's probably badly degraded too – right?"

"Yeah," Abby's normally bright eyes were looking toward the floor. Tim really wanted to comfort her.

"Perhaps I can be of some assistance, Special Agent Fornell…"

Fornell looked past the two at the coroner entering the room. "Doctor Mallard; your body won't arrive for another couple of hours…

Ducky waved away his explanation. "That's quite all right Special Agent; I believe that I might be able to help in another manner…"

"Meaning?"

"Well, you said that Beauregard Livingston had his hands clinched under him, in defensive posture, correct?"

"Yes, that's how we found him, Doctor, face down in the trunk. But what does that have to do with-"

"Is the local coroner still on site?"

"Yes he is, but-"

Ducky gently cut off the FBI Special Agent. "May I speak with him, please?"

Fornell sounded as if he were growling and then turned away from the camera and spoke to someone they couldn't see. In a moment, a portly gentleman's chubby face was looking at Ducky.

"Ducky! How are ya'll doing?"

"I'm fine, Jean Pierre; by any chance, have you been able to open Beauregard Livingston's hands?"

Jean Pierre looked doubtful. "His hands are mighty bloated, Ducky; and just might disintegrate…but for you, I'll give it try anyway,"

Ducky smiled at his friend. "Thank you Jean."

Jean Pierre went away from the camera, his face replaced by Tobias Fornell's.

"Why do you want to look at his hands, Doctor?"

"Just a hunch I have Special Agent…" Ducky said obliquely.

"Ducky! Ducky! You were right!" an excited voice said off screen

"What? What did you find?" snapped Fornell turning toward the voice.

Jean Pierre hurriedly came back to the camera. "Doctor Mallard thought Beauregard might be holding onto some evidence and he was right!" He held up a still recognizable pendant with two lengths of broken chain trailing from either side.

Abby leaned in and looked closely at the chain and pendant. Her eyes lit up in recognition of the necklace chain pattern that she could see. "Tim!"

"Way ahead of you Abby," Tim McGee said as his hands seemed to float across the keyboard as he focused the webcam on the pendant.

"Tell me you've got something McGee…." Fornell said to the Norfolk rookie.

But Tobias should have known that Tim McGee was in his element. "I do, sir; this pendant is a match for only one of four sold in that area. They were specialty pieces made exclusively with special inscriptions for their owners. Two were sold on E-Bay last year and the third was returned to the jeweler for repairs just last week. That just leaves the fourth pendant-"

"And one of the people who purchased this style pendant was Beauregard Livingston." Fornell finished for him.

The howling roar of the supersonic fighter aircraft over the battlefield was deafening.

Porucznik Wawrzyniak and Podporucznik Jodlowski had pulled their gunships behind the FEBA to stay out of their way. Some of the Marines looked up at the sound of the jet aircraft that were so close to the ground.

Lieutenant Borden of CO of Slugger Four and Sergeant Mausert NCOIC of Chisel Two looked up simultaneously.

"Take Cover!" Borden yelled to both crews. They as one, scrambled underneath their disabled vehicles.

Kapitan Chidorz closed the hatch on his personnel carrier and barked into his radio. "All crews button up!"

Kayce nodded her agreement with Mac's assessment and began to radio Colonel Briggs. "Mike Nine Fox, Mike Nine Fox; this is Sierra Six Mike, Over."

"Sierra Six Mike, authenticate-"

"That won't be necessary, MacKenzie. Corporal, cher, please do put down the radio and step away."

Mac's blood froze at the Cajun lilt in that female voice. Somehow Darcy had found out what they were doing. The insurgent probably hadn't bought their story at all. Though her back was to Livingston, she knew she wasn't alone.

Meanwhile the radio operator in 36th MEU command post repeated his request, unaware of what was going on. "Sierra Six Mike please authenticate, over."

Mike Nine Fox this is Sierra Two Seven; I authenticate: Charlie…alpha…juliet…uniform …november; disregard last transmission, over."

Reassured by being given the proper code word, the radio operator didn't question what had just taken place. Mistakes happen. "Confirmed Sierra Two Seven, disregarding last transmission – out."

Darcy turned off the radio. "Turn around MacKenzie, Danvers…" the Light Colonel and Kayce turned to see Darcy and three of her Force Recon Marines along with a smiling Jacques Lewis; all had their rifles trained on them.

MTAC, NCIS Headquarters

Washington Navy Yard

Tom Morrow shook hands with the Navy/Marine Corps' Judge Advocate General. Despite the fact it was not even 0400, both men looked as they did during the day – not worn down and disheveled.

"How are you doing AJ?" Morrow asked as the two men started to sit down in the darkened room. A test pattern was showing on the large screen in front of them.

AJ Chegwidden gave the NCIS Director a wry smile and gentle chuckle. Tom Morrow's ability to be congenial, diplomatic and still get the job done was going to take him places one day.

"Well, truthfully, I'll feel a lot better once my JAGMAN team is back in Washington," AJ confessed.

"Can't say that I blame you," Tom replied honestly. It was the first time since this all began that the two men had a chance to sit down and talk rather than play politics. "I'd rather have my Major Case Response Team working on cases here, too."

The Admiral had to admit to himself that he hadn't expected such a frank response from Director Morrow. He made a mental note to get together with this man once this was all over.

One of the MTAC technicians turned to face both men. "Director Morrow? We have satellite feed from the battle area…"

"Bring it up." He ordered.

The technician nodded and after typing in the sequence on his keyboard to bring the satellite transmission online, he turned back to the NCIS Director. "On screen, sir."

As the image coalesced on the screen, AJ thought about how much this room was like a movie theatre-the only things that were missing were the odor of popcorn and sticky floors.

"Connect me with Special Agent Gibbs…."

The technician nodded and punched a series of keys. After a few moments he turned back to Director Morrow. "Um, I can't seem to raise him, sir."

The Admiral and Director exchanged a look; both knew that atmospheric anomalies sometimes played havoc with radio transmissions.

"Try Commander Coleman," The Navy/Marine JAG suggested. The Director nodded his agreement and the technician punched a few more keys.

On the screen, Director Morrow could see that 36th MEU was clearly stalled. The drone aircraft circled forward edge of the battlefield, showing the Marines efforts to overcome the insurgent's dug-in positions.

"I've got Commander Coleman, sir." the MTAC technician announced.

The image shifted to Faith Coleman dressed in camouflaged fatigues and wearing a Kevlar helmet. She looked so unlike the well-groomed JAG Corps officer who had stood in AJ's office back in April.

"What's the situation, Commander?" Director Morrow asked.

"Gatorforce has run into well prepared insurgent positions northeast of Mirbullah." Faith replied in her usual 'just the facts' manner.

"Just how bad are they stalled, Commander?" The Navy/Marine JAG probed. Since she was in his chain of command, he might be able to get her to elaborate.

"It's a stalemate at the moment, Admiral. However, there are reinforcements on the-"

Before she could finish, her voice was cut off by the sound of thundering jet engines roaring overhead.

Both men looked at each other in surprise. The Admiral responded first to this new element.

"Commander!" Admiral Chegwidden barked trying to regain control of the situation the only way he knew how. "What the hell is going on?" But Faith Coleman was nowhere to be found.

Director Morrow responded in his own way. "Get that drone view back now!" He snapped.

The technician nodded and began typing furiously. "Yes sir!"

The image on the screen shifted back to the drone's camera which showed a squadron of Tomcats and a flight of Hornets bearing down on the insurgent positions.

Both men watched as the jet aircraft began their strafing runs.

"Carrier planes from USS Patrick Henry, Director!" The technician called out. "VFA-218 and VMFA-721!"

(VFA-218?) AJ Chegwidden thought as he watched the jets attacking the insurgents. Leaning back in his chair, he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. He was feeling one of his infamous Rabb-induced headaches coming on. (That's gotta be Rabb…)

Harm could see the line of Marine vehicles down below him, in seconds they would be over the battlefield. Stray tracer rounds arced up from the insurgent positions.

Flying in a 'v' formation with two of Major Epperson's Hornets on either side of them, Harm and Nicole's Tomcats lined up their targets. Harm saw a flash off to his right. He instinctively thought – SAM!

"MANPAD! Snap her over and roll ten degrees right, Eagle 22!" He ordered. "Eagle 21 rolling in hot!"

"Firing flares! Weapons free!" Nicole called out, "Engaging targets with 20 mike mike!"

Supergirl [Eagle 22] walked a line of twenty millimeter cannon shells up to and over the top of an approaching insurgent OT-64. The vehicle shuddered under the impact of the rounds before disintegrating in a fireball.

Harm toggled his bomb release; his Mark 83 1,000 pound bomb drifted free of its mounts and flew into the mouth of a cave which up to that moment had been spewing mortar fire and 57mm anti-tank shells. The hole in the rock vomited flames and tossed out the twisted remains of the elderly 57 millimeter ZiS anti-tank gun.

Rhino [Eagle 23] was next. He sent two 2.75 Zuni rockets into the top armor of a sluggishly moving T-55 that had been trying to back away from a Marine infantry assault. The Marines lead by 1st Lieutenant Price had wisely taken cover, but the tank, crippled by the Marine's SMAWs could not get to cover in time.

The rockets found their mark and the tank detonated, sending its turret flipping away from the body of the tank like a frying pan.

Flying Cloud released another bomb; this one on a blockhouse that had a squad of Marines lead by Gunnery Sergeant Sanchez pinned down. While they hugged the soil around them, Eagle 24's bomb ripped the blockhouse open like it had been hit by a wrecking ball. Chunks of blasted concrete rained down in front of Sanchez

And so it went; as the members of Eagle squadron either fired their 20mm cannons or released a bomb or fired a couple of rockets, Major Epperson's flight did it's best to discourage any anti-aircraft fire by strafing suspected anti-aircraft positions.

Then as quickly as it had started, it was over. Eagle squadron and Hunter flight were gone. Except for the crackling of fires and the stray report of an automatic rifle, the battlefield was eerily silent.

Faith (who had barely made it back outside) and Bud picked themselves up off the ground and stared at the other Marines and Sailors who probably had the same shell-shocked looks on their faces. Sergeant Dewert already had his hands full as he, Colonel Baxter, and a few other subordinates began their first series of radio calls.

"Gatorforce One, radio check…" Sergeant Dewert mentally kept his fingers crossed that Hawkins had survived this one.

There was a pause. Dewert licked his chapped lips and tried again.

"Gatorforce One, come in; radio check…"

There was static for a moment. Then. "Sonva—that was close!" It was Lieutenant Jim Hawkins' unsteady voice.

Sergeant Dewert smiled. "Are you okay, Gatorforce One?"

"Affirmative…affirmative; we're all okay…."

"One this is Leader. How about your units?"

"Wait one, Gatorforce Leader; I'm getting responses now…"

Andrew Baxter could hear the cacophony radio reports bombarding Lieutenant Hawkins and his radio operators. Miraculously, other than a few salty words, Gatorforce One reported no casualties.

Sergeant Dewert turned Colonel Baxter. "Gatorforce Two reporting in…no casualties sir!"

Dewert's good news seemed to open a fount of information from the FEBA. Two other radio operators chimed in.

"Colonel! Slugger Four and Chisel Two are okay! Warthog Four and Slugger Two say they can get tow lines attached and drag them to Major Kelly's position!"

"Colonel Baxter! Captain Chidorz and Lieutenant Korczak are requesting permission to aid the recovery efforts!"

Andrew Baxter quickly assessed this positive turn in events and decided to take advantage of it. "Tell'em they have their permission. And tell Major Kelly to provide the Captain with infantry support until his men can dismount!"

"Aye, aye, sir!" said Dewert with a big grin on his face. Finally, things were starting to go their way.

-TBC…


	80. Chapter 79

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 79

Kayce and Mac, hands raised, coldly regarded Darcy, Jac and her three Recon Marines.

The Force Recon CO shook her head as if she were deeply disappointed. "I had such high hopes for you, Colonel. You were a perfect fit. And you Corporal, you showed such promise; too bad you have morals and a conscience; that's an unfortunate combination in our line of work…."

"Okay ladies," Jac said with false politeness as he motioned with his pistol, "Over here, please."

Keeping their hands raised, the two moved over closer to Jac. The other three Recon Marines moved in and began to roughly frisk the women for hidden weapons.

Mac silently noted the names of the Marines. These were obviously soldiers who were either in Colonel Livingston's pay or agreed with her philosophies.

"They're clean, Colonel," announced 2nd Lieutenant Ricketts, the most senior of the Recon Marines. His two cohorts, Sergeant Saunders and Corporal Owens, stood on either side of Kayce.

"Dahab!" Samir al-Sahood, flanked by two of his bodyguards joined the group.

"Sari was never with us, Samir." Darcy explained coolly, "She was working for the infidels. She is a traitor to our cause."

Samir looked at Mac for a moment and then slowly shook his head. "That is…unfortunate." He said with deliberate slowness. The bodyguards roughly grabbed Mac and Kayce.

"Where are you taking us?" Mac asked. Maybe Darcy would be overconfident enough to tell them.

Darcy regarded her as if she were an insect as they headed back toward the village. "You'll find out soon enough, MacKenzie." She spoke to her curtly as if speaking to a boot.

The thump, thump, thump of the MH-53m Pavelow III's rotors echoed off the arid landscape as the big Special Operations helo 'Hatchet 07' flew low to avoid detection.

"Are you sure they headed in this direction?" 1st Lieutenant Sal Jankovich asked the pilot.

Captain Don Casey nodded. "Affirmative; Chloe told me that Colonel Baxter had said they got a partial transmission from Shark Two in this general area…."

Sal thought about ribbing Don about his 'relationship' with the MEU radio operator. She was the only one who the Captain referred to by first name, but then he decided this wasn't the time for that kind of thing.

"Mark, do you see anything?" Sal called out.

2nd Lieutenant Mark Feldman and Chief Warrant Officer Javier Guzman had the side doors of the huge chopper open to the air. Their binoculars were trained on the ground that was rushing past them. "Nothing yet Sal…" Feldman replied distractedly into his receiver.

Then he saw them.

"Wait one! Got a Russky jeep moving at top speed three o'clock low!"

"And a camouflaged Dodge pickup following it, Lieutenant!" CWO Guzman added.

"I see them," Sal confirmed sharing a wary look with Don.

The Captain of Hatchet 07 nodded. "I'm dropping back and breaking left; we don't want them to see us yet," Don throttled the giant helo down to a lower speed and banked her to the left, letting the two trucks get further away from them.

Aboard the bucking Dodge pickup truck, one of Samir's guards was looking off toward the horizon as they bounded over the rocky uneven road. The other guard, who had his gun trained on Mac and Kayce, looked over at his partner. Both women had been stripped of their overgarments revealing their Force Recon NOMEX flight suits underneath.

"What…you looking at?" The guard asked in broken English. When he didn't get an immediate response, he switched to Arabic.

What is it?/Fi-h eh? He said urgently while nudging his associate.

His partner turned and spoke in English. Apparently they were not supposed to use their native tongue around the Marine Lieutenant Colonel. Something about her being able to understand what they were saying, or some such nonsense.

He looked back at the horizon again, a puzzled look creasing his features. "I thought I heard something over that way…"

The other guard moved closer to the side of the truck bed. "I do not hear or see anything." He said after a moment of listening to the rushing wind.

"Maybe the Colonel called for reinforcements…" Corporal Owens said, speaking up for the first time since they'd started this little trip. He nudged the JAG Corps Light Colonel with his assault rifle. "Is that what you did, Colonel? Call for back-up?"

Mac didn't say anything to the renegade Marine. She regarded him silently without emotion.

"Huh, well, she ain't talking." He eyed a defiant looking Kayce and nudged her with his rifle. "What about you, Corporal? You got a signaling device in your shoe?"

Kayce flinched at the touch, but did not respond.

The two Arabs laughed nervously at his joke. Owens laughed too. "Nah, they ain't got any signaling devices, they're not that bright…."

"Maintain your distance," Luisa Baranova warned the driver of the BRDM scout vehicle. "If we get too close to the American bandit, he'll know we're following him and open fire on us."

The driver nodded and took his foot off the accelerator. They all knew what the gory consequences of that would be. While the AT-4b Factoria/Spigot missile they were carrying might even up the fight – it would still be a short lived one as the LAVs 25mm chaingun rounds shredded their armor and set off their fuel and ammo.

Sierzant Andre Lesinski leaned in close to the Polish Colonel. "Where are we following them to, Pulkownik?"

"Back to their rat's nest, I hope." Her eyes fixed firmly on her view of the distant Rover One.

Sergeant Damato swerved, causing everyone in the back to grab a hand hold to keep from tumbling to the floor of the Amtrac.

"Sorry!" called out Damato. "Didn't want to hit that rut at this speed," he explained.

"And that would have been different from what we've been experiencing up to now, how?" Tony growled as he steadied himself against the jitterbugging movements of the carrier.

Gibbs looked over at his senior Field Agent. "Well first, DiNozzo, this thing would have leaned violently to one side when it snapped its track on that rut."

Tony blanched. He didn't have to be told how his head, despite the Kevlar helmet protection, would have slammed against the aluminum wall of this thing-most likely knocking him unconscious. "Got it, Boss" he said quickly.

He waved at Damato. "Thank you Sergeant, good eye!" Then Tony gave him a thumbs-up. The rest of the MP squad either rolled their eyes or chuckled while shaking their heads.

Gibbs smiled at his antics. It reminded him something he might have done when he was younger.

SEAL Team 'Rat Patrol' followed discreetly behind Darcy's two vehicle convoy, out of their line of sight. Sitting next to Commander Brad May was Master Gunnery Sergeant Victor Galindez.

"So how long have you known Mister Webb?" The Commander asked the Master Guns. Victor knew if the situation was less serious that question would have come with a big smile.

Victor cleared his throat. "Probably too long, sir."

Brad chuckled wearily at the Marine's response. "You're lucky, 'Master Guns'; Petty Officer Burke couldn't decide if you and the Colonel were part of Darcy's gang or not. If you hadn't told him about Mister Webb, we probably wouldn't have interfered."

Victor nodded his agreement. And, if they hadn't, he would most likely now be lying face down in that back alley where Samir's men and Corporal Day had found him and Frank Witt and Ryan Burke (aka Corpsman Yader) as they tried to make it back to Staff Sergeant Dallas and the rest of Shark Two.

Two of the Commanders' team members had interrupted Day's informal interrogation session in which he let it slip that Darcy had known the whole time that Mac wasn't with her and that he certainly wasn't Hector 'Cesar' Bustamante. She knew that he was in prison in Charleston.

And to make things worse, Day and Witt had managed to slip through their fingers.

Now he hoped that they could rescue the Colonel and Corporal Danvers before Darcy and Samir killed them.

Victor made up his mind that once this operation was over with; he was getting out of the spy business and going back to Force Recon, permanently.

Petty Officer Vickers suddenly turned around in his seat. "Commander, Hatchet Seven has found Samir and Colonel Livingston; he's shadowing them."

Once the artillery barrage had lifted, Gatorforce One and Two moved forward across the farm fields and began assaulting the rear areas of the insurgent positions. Major Kelly and Lieutenant Hawkins' Marines had no trouble breaching what was left of the insurgents' shattered defenses. Any stray bomb laden OT-64 personnel carriers were quickly dispatched by Kapitan Chidorz's missile toting personnel carriers or Lieutenant Borden's tanks and engineering vehicles.

Hank Borden and his crew [who had refused to be towed out of the action] were feverishly working to get their tank back into the action. They were defended by Lieutenant Ron Felk's combat engineer squads that had volunteered to serve as Borden's and Mausert's protection detail while they finished their repairs.

The caves and 'mouse holes' that dotted the landscape behind the insurgent's positions looked daunting at first, but careful checking by Staff Sergeant Fuller's recon teams and the scout teams of the Iraqi provisional army's 203rd battalion, lead by Ra'is As'sam, soon discovered most of these positions were thankfully abandoned.

As they passed a smoldering ammunition dump, Khalil As'sam realized that the Fedayeen hadn't fled the battlefield, they were falling back to their next prepared position. He remembered how Ra'id (Captain) Jalloud had told him that the Saddam Fedayeen were insane; they had told him that they were prepared to fight for a thousand years, if necessary – even if Saddam's government was forced from power.

Khalil wondered just what awaited them at the next insurgent strongpoint. "Corporal Bauer, it appears the insurgents have pulled back."

"I know, Khalil; I didn't think they would give up this easily." He clicked his radio. "Rover One Alpha to Rover Three; the Fedayeen have moved to their next blocking position. Suggest scout teams and engineers assess the situation. Over."

Sergeant Sewett responded immediately. "Rover Three to One Alpha; affirmative. Pick your teams and find out what they have lined up for us next."

"So now let's hear you beg for your life," taunted Owens as he hustled Lance Corporal Danvers out of the pickup truck bed.

"Get your hand off my butt or you're the one who's going to be begging-"snarled Kayce.

"Corporal! Don't antagonize them," Mac said sharply.

"Better listen to that milquetoast of a Colonel you've been following, Ms. Hotshot girly sniper," Owens sneered as he shoved her towards Mac.

Samir's two bodyguards kept their weapons trained on the two women.

Samir and Darcy were off to one side, away from the group, obviously conferring about the fate of the JAG Corps Lieutenant Colonel and the Force Recon sniper.

After a moment, Darcy turned back toward them with what could only be described as a most satanic smile on her face. Mac almost flinched at the sight.

"You're right of course, my beloved. It would be stupid to kill them before we are sure…" She paused, waiting for Mac to respond to her verbal bait.

Her smile melted somewhat when Mac didn't respond. "Very well; we'll inject them now and send them back to Colonel Briggs as a gift."

Samir's bodyguards opened a small padded case they had been carrying. They pulled out what looked like corked vials and a couple of syringes. Corporal Owens grabbed each woman by the arm and dragged them toward the bodyguards.

Kayce's eyes flared. Mac did her best to appear stoic, but the syringes- like those battery cables that Sadik Fahd had planned to use on her in the Chaco Boreal—could lead to certain death; and this time, Harm wouldn't be there to rescue her.

Darcy's wicked grin grew wider. "Scared are you, Cher? Don't worry, by the time the viral hemorrhagic fever kills you, you'll be begging for death."

Kayce stopped struggling and looked Colonel Livingston in the eye. "I'm not afraid, ma'am."

Darcy shrugged indifference at her defiance. "Well no matter if you are or aren't. Soon you'll be forgiven for desertion by doing this favor for me and spreading this contagion throughout Brigg's command post and aid station."

"Viral hemorrhagic fever as in Marburg or Ebola?" Mac asked,

"Yes and no, Sari; it's really quite a deadly strain, I might add."

"You two traitors will serve a worthy cause," Samir added clinically as if addressing a couple of pre-med students. "The virus we are injecting you with was improved in our Darunta lab. You should feel the first effects of it by this afternoon."

Darcy looked over at Mac "And what brave thing are you going to say to me Sari? I'll bet it's something like 'You'll never get away with this,' right?"

Mac stood silently regarding her foe.

Owens forced both women to sit on the ground and began to tie them up. Once he had finished with that, he grabbed their arms again and rolled up their sleeves, exposing their skin.

Darcy/Dahab chuckled. "Ashton, poor thing, will be in the middle of a fight for his life, so he'll just shuttle you off to the aid station…not knowing that you two are a deadlier version of 'Typhoid Mary'."

"How do you know that we won't warn them?" challenged Mac. "We'll be

conscious-"

Darcy smiled again and shook her head. "Oh no, Sari, quite the opposite. After we administer the virus, you'll be given a sedative. Enjoy the sleep while you can."

"Is that all you're going to do, Colonel?" Kayce challenged. "How about putting a Sect Rouge mojo in our mouths after we're unconscious?"

Darcy merely smirked at her acid comment. "Oh Corporal, you are a funny one. You think just because I'm from New Orleans that I'm a Sect Rouge sorceress? That I believe in the, what the ignorant call, 'voo-doo'? Cherie, you've been reading way too many urban legends and detective novels…."

Mac started to open her mouth. "Please don't insult me, Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie; yes, we will succeed. Idiotic Ashton is leading the MEU into the trap right now and there isn't a damn thing you or anyone else can do about it. Like lambs to a slaughter…."

Captain Lewis took the filled syringes and moved toward them. "Relax, ladies; this is only gonna hurt a lot."

Darcy/Dahab smiled coldly as she and Samir turned to leave. Then she paused and turned back to them. "I would so enjoy watching both of you pass out, but I'm afraid I have other business to attend to. So as my Cajun friends would say; 'laissez les bon temps rouller'."

As she and Samir headed toward their jeep, the thump, thump, thump of rotors could be heard echoing around the countryside. Samir's guards and Corporal Owens began worriedly searching the skies –but nothing could be seen. The haunting and unnerving thump, thump, thump continued.

Samir's guards, looking nervous, fingered their rifles. Darcy and Samir exchanged confused looks. Even Jac was looking around, forgetting about sticking the needle into Mac's exposed arm.

"What the hell!"

"Geez!"

"Good Lord!/Subhan Allah!"

The big sand colored MH-53 suddenly flashed over a low rise, startling everyone present. Before Corporal Owens or Jac Lewis could react, the gunship opened fire, instantly killing Samir's two guards and wrecking the UAZ jeep they were standing next to.

Mac and Kayce rolled over, trying to present as small a target as possible. Corporal Owens threw down his rifle and raised his hands.

Jac, Darcy and Samir sprinted to the undamaged Dodge pickup barely avoiding a hail of bullets that followed them. Jac took the wheel and roared away from the helo induced sandstorm.

Instead of following them, the big helicopter dipped lower.

Kayce shielded her eyes as much as possible with her hands as she tried to catch a glimpse of their rescuer. "Who the hell is that? Colonel, do you have a guardian angel?"

Mac looked up at the hovering Pave Low and smiled, "I guess I do."

As they watched, two Marine Force Recon soldiers fast roped down out of the Pave Low helo and sprinted over to Mac and Kayce.

Staff Sergeant Dallas began loosening their bonds while Corporal Calapango put plastic wrist-cuffs on Corporal Owens.

"Ma'am! Are you all right?" Dallas shouted above the thundering roar of the helicopter.

"We're both fine, Staff Sergeant, thanks to you!" Mac replied.

"It wasn't just me ma'am, Colonel Baxter suspected something was up when Corporal Danvers sent that aborted radio call, so he notified Captain Casey!"

Mac looked over and saw the Captain give her a nod as he settled the big bird to the ground. She gave him a warm smile and a nod of thanks in return.

She hoped in his rush to escape, Jac had left the vials and the syringes. Sure enough, the padded case containing the vials and the syringe he was going to use on Mac had been dropped on the ground.

"Secure that case and syringe, Staff Sergeant!" Mac said as she pointed to them. "And be careful! They both contain viral hemorrhagic fever."

The Staff Sergeant nodded and then putting on his NOMEX gloves, carefully picked up the syringe and the padded case. Opening the case, he found the cap for the needle and then placed it back inside. Gingerly he closed the case and secured it with masking tape.

Calapango, dragging a now silent Owens in tow, headed toward the helo. Mark Dallas escorted Kayce and Mac to the MH-53M whose blades were still turning. All of them hurried up the ramp and settled into awaiting seats. As soon as they were strapped in, the Pave Low lifted off, headed in the direction of Darcy's pickup.

"Good to see you, ma'am, Corporal!" said Arnie Bledsoe. The rest of Shark Two smiled and nodded to the two women. It was apparent they were among friends now.

The phone on the other end only rang once before it was picked up. "This is Colonel Ellis."

Andrew hoped this went smoothly. There had been a lot of ruffled feathers today all the way up the chain of command as he explained what had happened to Ashton Briggs. "Colonel? This is acting MEU Commander Andrew Baxter. Colonel Briggs has been relieved of command. I am ordering all available aviation combat element assets into action. I am rescinding the grounding order for HMLA-975."

"Rescinding the grounding order? What the hell happened to Colonel Briggs?"

(Damn.) He should have known the same confusion and dismay was going to greet him going down the chain as it had going up. "Colonel Briggs suffered a mental breakdown. I have assumed command as Acting CO of the 36th MEU per regulations and Brigadier General Thornton's orders." At times like these Baxter really hated the red tape and delays you had to worm your way through, even though Ellis' questions were perfectly legitimate.

He decided to stress to Ellis just how important this 'request' was. "Colonel, we're in a dire situation at the moment and I need every available combat aviation asset up here with us. Do you understand?"

ACE Commander sighed. "All right, Colonel, all right. I'll get Captain Maxwell to get his birds airborne. What about Lukens and Buell? Are they still grounded?"

That was the wrong tack to take. Baxter closed his eyes and hissed out an irritated breath.

"Colonel, let me make this perfectly clear—I need all combat aviation assets up here with me. We need every plane and every helo we can muster to take out this insurgent defensive net. Up till now, we've had to rely on the generosity of our Coalition partners and their air assets to help us out. But they can only do so much. Do you understand? I need those helos, Colonel Ellis, all of them, ASAP! Do you read me?"

Andrew Baxter could 'see' the Colonel sitting up in his chair. Maybe even standing. "Aye, aye, Colonel! I read you loud and clear! I'll get HMLA-975 in the air and on the way to you ASAP!"

"Good!" The bang of the receiver hanging up was lost on Colonel Ellis as he got off the phone with 36th MEU CO and rang up his Executive Officer.

"Major Birdwell…"

"Major? Colonel Ellis; orders from Acting MEU CO, Andrew Baxter; all available air units have been ordered into action."

"All available units sir?"

"Yes Major." Frank Birdwell was usually pretty good about catching hints.

"Does that include Lieutenants Lukens and Buell, sir?" But not this time.

In any other instance, that would have been a logical question. But, Lieutenant Colonel Ellis was still smarting from Colonel Baxter's reprimand. And, as they say 'stuff rolls downhill'. "You heard me, Major! All available units! HMLA-975 is no longer grounded! Tell Captain Maxwell to get his Cobras airborne! Right damn now!"

"Aye sir!" It sounded like Birdwell's feet fell off his desk. (Served him right!)

36th ACE Airfield, Camp Chesty Puller

Near Mirbullah, Iraq

In the temporary barracks at Mirbullah, the pilots and weapons officers of HMLA-975 were involved in a high stakes card game, since there was really nothing else to do at the moment. Their Cobra gunships had been serviced and inspected this morning. They had even had a morning briefing on Gatorforce assault and how they would support the attack if they were involved. They were for all intensive purposes 'good to go' though they weren't going anywhere and until Colonel Briggs was satisfied, they wouldn't be going anyplace for a while.

"I fold…" Mason 'Rich' Aubrey said tossing his cards on the table.

Wayne Towers and the other men around sighed and groaned, throwing down their cards as well.

Ian Skaggs looked around and then threw his cards on the table. "Geez, Mase; you always fold at the worst possible times-!"

Lieutenant Towers shook his head. "He folds when he sees an impossible situation, Ian; you're the suicidal one-"

Captain Maxwell appeared at the door. There was urgency in his body language and the crews of HMLA-975 could sense it.

"Ian! Guys! Let's go! Major Birdwell says we're no longer grounded!"

"What about us, sir?" Ben Lukens asked as he and Buell stood. He didn't want to sound hopeful.

Captain Maxwell smiled at him for the first time in days. "That includes you too, Lukens! You and Buell get your bird in the air! Pronto!"

"Aye sir!" They both responded. Fred would have whooped if it hadn't been the Captain they were speaking to. They both headed to their lockers to join the rest of Firefly squadron getting ready for their mission.

Steve Maxwell was about to head out to the flight line when he noticed that one man was still in the room.

"Captain, a moment?"

Steve cut a sigh short. "Look Anwar, we don't have time-"

Lieutenant Anwar Hafez, a naturalized American, nodded his acquiescence to the Captain. "I understand sir; but I will keep my eye on them. Just because they were not court-martialed does not mean that they weren't guilty."

Steve this time let a sigh escape. He knew what Hafez was alluding to. He didn't need this right now, but given all that had happened and what came out at the courts martial, he was within his rights. The Captain nodded. "Your prerogative, Lieutenant; now get your machine airborne!"

"Aye sir." Lieutenant Hafez said as he saluted.

Hatchet 07 slowly began to descend again. Mac anxiously looked out the sand blasted window and saw two Dodge pickup trucks waiting for them.

As they settled to the ground, the ramp lowered and Shark Two hustled out of the helo. The Light Colonel could see Sal Williams and Don Burges waiting for them.

"Good to see you again, Colonel," Sal said as The Colonel and Kayce Danvers approached his truck.

"Likewise Sergeant," Mac returned with genuine warmth.

Don Burges was pleased to see the two Recon Marines but he also had something else on his mind. Before Mac could ask him about it, he spoke up.

"Colonel, Sergeant Williams and I did some scouting before you arrived. We know that Sergeant Cienfuentes is on that hill over there and Lieutenant Bailey's unit, Shark Three, has to be somewhere close. I don't think the Sergeant is part of Darcy's group."

"Can Sergeant Cienfuentes be trusted, Corporal?"

"Yes ma'am; I'd stake my life on it." Don Burges replied. "Cienfuentes and Gonzalez made sure Samir's bad guys didn't get you when you went into Amariya."

"But they couldn't prevent Lieutenant Ebbits' death…" Kayce pointed out to Don. She hated to side against him, but really the only people she trusted right now were in Shark Two. Anyone else was an unknown factor at this point.

Don had to admit Kayce had a point. "No Kayce, they couldn't. Nobody could have. If those insurgents hadn't killed him, Sergeant Gonsalves was supposed to."

Mac hadn't heard this before, but she was fairly certain Gonsalves would have killed Ebbits if ordered to. She glanced at Kayce and then at Don. "We need all the allies we can muster, Corporal," she told Kayce. Then she nodded to Don. "You have your chance, Burges; feel out Cienfuentes,"

"Thank you ma'am," Don said and ran to his truck

Mac glanced over at Sal Williams. "Sergeant Williams?"

"Yes ma'am?" Sal answered, ready for her orders.

"We'll ride with you." The Light Colonel advised the Sergeant. Mark Dallas who had been talking with Sal noted that JAG Corps officer had orders for him as well. "Staff Sergeant, pick a team to ride with you and Burges."

Mark nodded. "Aye, aye, Colonel."

Mac carefully phrased her next order. "And Staff Sergeant; if it sours, get Burges out of there. Even if you have to kill Cienfuentes and any others who are there."

"You're authorizing use of lethal force against fellow Marines ma'am?" Dallas knew his question was close to insubordination, but he had to know that if he was stepping off a cliff, that she was going to back him up.

Mac understood why he was asking. "Staff Sergeant, you know these men are associating with a known traitor and enemy combatant. Use deadly force. Those are my orders."

Mark Dallas nodded gravely. "Understood Colonel."

"And Staff Sergeant…volunteers only for your team." She added softly, but it had as much impact as the permission to kill. "They need to know what's going to be asked of them…."

"Thank you, Colonel."

Mac nodded; she understood the gravity of what she was asking them to do. It was tough enough sometimes shooting an enemy not firing at you; the lines become a lot blurrier when the enemy is wearing the same uniform as yours.

Mac and Kayce got in the pickup truck while the reminder of her team not going with Dallas and Burges climbed into the truck bed. She looked over at Williams. "Let's move out, Sergeant."

"Aye, aye, ma'am," Salvatore Williams said as he dropped the truck into gear and followed Corporal's Burges' truck.

Jay Raden's LAV-25 rolled to a silent stop within sight of a group of dark houses. The Corporal could hear Lance Corporal Pogue swearing as he cranked the armored truck's starter.

"Lance Corporal! What's the problem?" He barked.

"Damn fuel gauge is faulty!" Pogue shot back, "We're outta fuel!"

Jay couldn't believe this run of luck. "How'd the hell did that happen?"

"How the hell should I know, Jay?" groused the Lance Corporal, "Maybe they didn't top us off when we left. Maybe our high speed maneuvers gulped more fuel than we thought-"

Most likely though, it had to do with an armored panel over the fuel tanks that had come loose and allowed some of those Polish 12.7mm rounds to puncture one of the tanks.

While Lance Corporal Pogue continued to outline possible reasons for their running out of gas, Lance Corporal Strong wanted to get this errand over with. At first, the idea of all that money they would be paid just for helping out Colonel Livingston seemed like a dream come true; but now the dream was turning into a horrible nightmare. "Listen guys," Jesse said interrupting Pogue's commentary, "we're here; let's just-"

"Jesse, do you mind?" huffed Pogue, "I'm trying to tell our *noble leader* here what might've happened with the gas-!"

Sierzant Lensinki's driver, who up till now had done a good job shadowing Rover One, broke cover as the BRDM, instead of going around a bush, went right over it. It was a mistake born of fatigue and getting in a hurry and everyone on board cringed when the armored car noisily flattened the desert shrubbery.

Former Taliban scout Mahmet al-Izz immediately noticed the presence of the armored car and opened fire with his PKM machine gun. That immediately got the attention of his squad and the bickering crew of Rover One.

Jay swung the LAV's turret back down the road. In addition to seeing the trail of fuel, he also saw the squat sand colored Polish BRDM outlined by the trees surrounding it and under fire from the Fedyeen machine guns.

"Company! We've got company! Gunner! HE on that BRDM in the tree line!"

When gunner/Corporal Jesse Strong hesitated, Jay took over the firing controls. To his mounting anger, he was only able to get off a short burst before the gun jammed again.

But unknown to him, it was enough; despite rounds going short and long, ricochets from the large caliber rounds' shrapnel combined with the fusillade of 7.62mm machine gun rounds, chewed up the launch rail of Lesinski's ATGM. The AT-4 missile slumped sideways.

Inside the BRDM, the crew and the scouts could hear as shrapnel bounced and pinged off the armored hide of the Polish vehicle. Luisa cursed their bad luck.

"Cover fire!" Andre Lesinski ordered, "Driver! Back us into the woods! Now!"

The BRDM dug into the baked sandy crust and immediately backed away from the incoming 7.62 rounds that were still being fired.

Tony exchanged curious glances with Gibbs "Why are we slowing?" The former Baltimore detective asked.

Before Tony could get his answer, Sergeant Damato barked out the reason.

"Sergeant Canella! Special Agent Gibbs! Colonel Baranova's armored car is taking fire!"

Sergeant Canella quickly climbed into the commander's seat and looked through the vehicle's periscopes. "It's Corporal Raden! He's firing on her!"

Gibbs knew from experience that a BRDM's heavy machine guns were no match for the LAV's 25mm chain gun/autocannon.

He grabbed his rifle. "Sergeant! Get your men dismounted and take the pressure off Colonel Baranova!"

Coming from any other NCIS Agent, Gibbs' words would have been insulting to the military police Sergeant. But Leroy Jethro Gibbs wasn't any ordinary 'Navy cop'. "Aye, aye, Gunny!" Canella replied.

Gibbs grabbed Tony's arm as the MP's began gathering their gear. "C'mon DiNozzo!" he said urging the younger agent toward the lowering ramp.

Tony, his rifle still slung gave Gibbs a bewildered look. "Uh Boss? What do you plan on doing?"

"*We* are going to *help* take the pressure off, DiNozzo!"

Sergeant Williams rolled his truck to as quiet a stop as possible. Just down the hill from them was another pickup truck facing away from them.

"I sure hope Flemming is right about Garcia," Kayce said tensely.

Privately, the Light Colonel was hoping this too. She was the one who had agreed to let Oscar Flemming parley with Shark Three's sniper, Corporal Garcia. And if this didn't work, things could get very bloody, very quickly.

"Colonel!"

It was Lieutenant Flemming; and with him was Corporal Garcia.

Mac and Kayce got out of the truck to meet them. "Corporal," The Light Colonel said to the approaching Force Recon sniper

"Ma'am," Garcia returned neutrally. Mac noticed that like most snipers, Garcia was not much of a talker.

Oscar Flemming nodded to the sniper. "Rafael told me that Lieutenant Bailey and his men are in those houses down there, Colonel,"

"Bailey has his scouts in the first two houses closest to us," Rafael Garcia explained, "I'm supposed to keep watch for any intruders."

Mac nodded, mulling over that information. Then she gave Garcia a momentary contemplative look. "Corporal, do you think you can incapacitate them?"

"Incapacitate?" Rafael said with a hint disbelief in his voice. He was used to killing people, but then again, he was trained to disable targets as well. He looked back at the two houses. "Aye ma'am. If you can flush them out in the open, I can."

Mac turned to Kayce, "Follow his lead, Danvers; you're to wound, not kill."

Kayce understood what the JAG Corps officer was trying to accomplish; but, deep down, she wondered if the Colonel was being just a bit too idealistic. After all, these people had just tried to kill both of them. What was wrong in giving them a little payback? But, this was the Colonel's show, not hers and they would do things her way.

"Then I had better use my M-4 carbine, ma'am. My light fifty is too powerful-"

The Light Colonel stopped her just as she started to put her Barrett rifle down. "Before you trade weapons, Corporal, I need you to fire at one very special target…."

Rover One had suddenly stopped firing 25mm rounds, but was still pounding away at the trees and undergrowth with its machine guns, searching for Colonel Baranova's armored truck.

Sierzant's Lensinki's machine guns answered back as best they could from the underbrush.

As the firefight continued, Sergeant Canella's men, Special Agents Gibbs and, Special Agent DiNozzo slowly, and cautiously made their way toward the Polish armored car. They were trying their best not to reveal themselves to the renegade Marines.

Gibbs looked over at Canella. "Tony and I will try to flank them, Sergeant; give us all the cover fire you can."

"Aye Gunny!"

While Canella issued orders to his men who were finding cover and preparing to open fire on the renegade Marine armored truck, the two NCIS Agents moved away from them.

"Tony, maintain visual contact with me." Gibbs said as he moved toward the stand of date trees and ferns.

"Got it, Boss," Tony said as he quickly followed behind him.

The two NCIS Agents carefully moved closer to the BRDM which was still trading fire with the LAV. Miraculously, the armored truck did not respond with its autocannon but continued to pepper the underbrush and BRDM with 7.62mm fire.

Bullets whizzed by the two agents like angry bees, causing them to crouch lower as they headed toward a slight rise that would protect them from incoming fire from the LAV as well as the insurgents.

"Boss, I gotta go on record here; this may not be such a good idea." Tony said honestly

Gibbs who had turned back over and was started to make his way forward again, stopped and turned to stare at him. "Well just what should we do, Tony?"

The former Baltimore police detective hadn't expected that. "Well, uh, we should try to draw their fire, Boss…"

Gibbs nodded. "Good idea Tony; go draw their fire!"

Tony's eyes flared at the suggestion. "B-But Boss! That's not what I-"

"It was your idea, DiNozzo; now get going!"

"Me and my big mouth…" Tony said to himself as moved away from Gibbs and armored car. He spotted a low rise just to the right and ran towards it. The LAV-25 machine guns swiveled and tracked his movement. The Senior Field Agent dived for safety just as bullets ripped into the top of the rise just above his head.

"Great, just freakin' great…" he mumbled to himself. Then he Gibbs-slapped himself on the back of his helmet. "Way to go, Anthony…"

"November Two! Are you going to return fire?" Gibbs yelled into his mike as the LAV resumed firing on the BRDM.

"On it, Boss!" Tony yelled back, breaking radio protocol and causing the LAV turn its guns on him again.

"What the hell…guess I get to die in slow motion like William Holden in the Wild Bunch…" Tony said ruefully to himself.

The gunner on board the LAV in the meantime must've gotten bored with chewing up the ground above his head, so it switched back to firing at the BRDM and Gibbs.

Tony stuck his head above the rise and fired off a long burst at the LAV with his M-16. The Senior Field Agent couldn't hear himself yelling above the firing of his assault rifle.

Gibbs couldn't believe what he was hearing. But Tony's antics did give him the opportunity he needed. As the LAV swiveled to respond to Tony, the Senior NCIS Agent aimed his rifle and fired off a three round burst at the truck.

Inside Rover One, Jay Raden flinched as his periscope lenses starred, spider web cracks obscuring his vision. "Lance Corporal! Have you got that jam cleared yet?"

Jesse Strong looked over at him. "Give me another minute-"

The whine of the high caliber bullet was barely noticeable as the radio aerial leaned slowly to one side and then fell off the roof of the building that served as a command post for Shark Three. Kayce looked at the Light Colonel and she gave her a satisfied nod.

Now, on to the harder task.

1st Lieutenant John Bailey, Shark Three OIC (Officer In Charge), was dozing in his chair when the first 'flash-bang' grenade sailed through the open window.

The concussion and flash of the first grenade sent the young OIC tumbling to the floor, covering his ears in feeble attempt to keep from being momentarily deafened. The rest of the men in the room reeled about; totally disoriented by the multiple detonations that echoed in the room as three more grenades were tossed in through the window. In lightning succession, the actions were repeated in the building next door.

During all this, a fifty caliber round from Corporal Garcia's sniper rifle flattened the wheels of the left side of Shark Three's Dodge pickup truck. Sergeant Roscoe Collins flung open his door and dived for the protection of a nearby boulder. A second round broke the truck's M-2HB machine gun from its pintle mount, sending the junked remains clattering to the ground.

Within moments, it was all over. Lieutenant John Bailey and Corporal Scott Dunlap and his scouts were being handcuffed by Mac's team. Sergeant Collins raised his hands high and stood up from behind his boulder.

As Kayce was securing the last prisoner, Don Burges drove up in his truck followed by Sergeant Dahl's with Pedro Cienfuentes and Hernando Gonzales. Don's gamble [and Mac's] had paid off. With the exception of Rafael Garcia and these three men, Shark Three was out of commission.

Don nodded to Mac as he got out of the truck and approached her. "Thanks ma'am…"

She smirked at him. "No need to thank me, Corporal, I trusted your judgment." She turned to two men with Don. "Sergeant, Corporal; glad to have you on our side."

Scott Dunlap mumbled something under his breath that sounded like an expletive.

Corporal Logan, who had hustled him out of the house earlier, gave him a cutting glare. "What did you say?"

Dunlap's hatred of Logan was palpable. He sneered at her. "I wasn't talking to you."

She approached him threateningly. "You'd better watch your mouth, you-"

"Enough Logan," Casmir Szymas said standing between them, trying to defuse her anger, "he's just trying to goad you."

Pedro and Hernando threw disgusted looks at Dunlap, who settled into a sullen silence.

Pedro turned back to Mac. "As I was about to say, Colonel; this has been coming to a head for a long time. We figure you are one of the few people who can put a stop to this…."

John Bailey, who had been listening quietly to the whole conversation, scoffed at the assessment of the JAG Light Colonel's abilities and then spit in her direction.

"You dirty son of-" Mark Dallas raised his rifle butt threateningly towards Bailey's face.

"Stand down Staff Sergeant!" Mac barked. Kayce, and the others looked on in stunned amazement. Even Vicky Logan was shocked by her Staff Sergeant's reaction. Of all people, they never expected the 'rock' of the unit to react so violently.

John Bailey though was still defiant, and began taunting him. "Go ahead Mark, hit me! C'mon tough guy. It'll be your last heroic act!" He looked at the Force Recon soldiers of Shark Two and Three who had joined Mac. "All of you will be dead before sunset!"

Mac was running out of options. It was obvious these guys were intent on delaying them as much as possible, by whatever means necessary. So the Light Colonel made a snap decision. "Staff Sergeant; you and Corporal Logan muzzle the prisoners."

Mark gave her a wolfish smile. "With pleasure, ma'am! Corporal! Help me muzzle these thugs!"

"Way ahead of you, Staff Sergeant!" Vicky said as she roughly began to gag a shocked Dunlap.

Mac watched as Sergeant Cienfuentes observed Logan and Dallas. She could tell he was concerned by the prisoners' outbursts and Dallas and Logan's response to Mac's orders.

"Sergeant?"

"He's right ma'am. Colonel Livingston has us out-numbered and that's even without al Sahood's men. They also know what buttons to push. We need some heavy duty support; where is your ANGLICO?"

Her ANGLICO; someone else who was an unknown element in all this. "He was with Master Guns Galindez-" she began to say.

As if on cue, a dust covered HMMWV crested the hill followed by a small dune

buggy- like vehicle mounting a heavy machine gun. Everyone in Mac's group turned toward these new arrivals, weapons at the ready.

Mac was surprised with tensions as high as they were that no one had inadvertently fired. The HMMWV and 4x4 Desert Patrol Vehicle pulled up to stop and Victor Galindez got out of the HMMWV followed by another soldier in fatigues.

The Light Colonel was really glad to see a familiar face. Especially one who might be able to keep this unit together "Good to see you again Master Guns," she said warmly.

Victor gave her a wry smile. "Begging your pardon ma'am, could we drop the 'Master Guns'?"

Mac almost chuckled. She could understand his weariness with this charade. "Sure Gunny; welcome back."

"Thank you ma'am, glad to be back." He said giving her that winning smile of his own.

She didn't recognize the bespectacled officer who had gotten out of the Hum-vee with him. "Who's that with you, Gunny?"

Victor turned to his 'companion'. "This is Commander Brad May, Colonel; the leader of the SEAL Team that has been shadowing Colonel Livingston for the past few months…"

"Commander May," Mac said stepping forward. "Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie; JAG Corps. You can call me 'Mac'"

"Colonel MacKenzie," Brad shook her hand He wasn't about to get that comfortable with her just yet. There were lot of shifting alliances around here. "Ma'am, thanks to my man in your unit, I feel like I know you already…"

Before Mac could ask how or why, Victor spoke up again. "He's referring to Petty Officer Yader, Colonel; he's part of Commander May's team. His real name is Ryan Burke."

Ryan got out of the HMMWV. "Colonel; sorry for the deception…."

Kayce couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You were spying on us? Wait a minute; that was a stupid question, of course he was spying on us…"

Petty Officer Burke was unrepentant. "Had to Corporal; until Special Agent Webb revealed what was going on with Colonel MacKenzie joining your unit, everyone who worked with Darcy was suspect. Our orders were to observe and report, but not interfere."

Mac fought the urge to hiss out an angry breath at that remark. Why was it that Clayton Webb always had people nearby, to observe, but he never let them help? Were they there when Carlson Ebbits was killed? What was it; some sort of CIA regulation or something to do this kind of thing?

She decided holding it against Petty Officer Burke and Commander May would not help their situation. She'd save her ass chewing for a certain CIA Agent for later. "Where's Sergeant Witt, Gunny?"

Gunny looked hacked; just as he'd gotten himself captured by Raul Garcia's men in the Chaco. "He escaped ma'am when Yader…that is, Burke, and I were caught by Darcy's soldiers."

She did not want to hear that. "Where did he go?" Her tone was insistent and direct.

May came to Gunny's rescue. "We've got him under surveillance, Colonel."

But Mac wasn't interested in just 'keeping tabs' on him for a very important reason. "We've got to stop him, Commander. He's part of the unit ANGLICO. He can give orders to all Navy and Marine air and artillery assets-"

Commander May knew what Witt could do. But he also had his orders. "He's getting ready to meet with Colonel Livingston. I have some of my men following him-"

Fate intervening took the form of MCPO Coskill sticking his head out the HMMWV passenger side window. "Commander! A blue-on-blue firefight has just broken out between a Marine LAV and Polish BRDM at Witt's rendezvous point with Livingston! Petty Officer Cameron reports an AMTRAC has also joined the firefight against the LAV!"

There was a good chance that AMTRAC was filled with military policemen and that Polish armored car had to be from Colonel Baranova's unit. That also meant that Special Agent Gibbs and or Bud were nearby as well. If they were slugging it out with Darcy and Samir, she wanted to help. "How far away are they, Commander?"

Brad May turned and pointed to the rise behind them. "Just over that ridge, Colonel!"

Mac figured at this point, the SEAL observation mission was over. Of all the people in Darcy's group right now, ANGLICO Frank Witt was the most dangerous. "We need to capture Sergeant Witt before he can send out any orders!"

The Commander readily agreed. At least he didn't debate the issue like Webb would do sometimes. "The firefight is gonna buy us a little time, ma'am, so let's not waste it! Vickers! Gifford! Man your stations! Let's go!"

Mac turned to her ad-hoc unit. "Mount up Marines!" The Force Recon Marines of Shark Two and Three quickly hustled to the undamaged pickup trucks. All that is, except for Staff Sergeant Dallas.

He stood next to Bailey and the others who were beginning to realize they were on the losing side. "What about the prisoners, ma'am? What should we do with them?"

Mac prayed that Mark Dallas hadn't slipped that far into revenge mode for all the deaths Darcy had caused. She quickly glanced at the enemy combatants. "We'll have to bring them with us Staff Sergeant; we don't have a choice. Secure them so that they can't interfere."

If she had expected him to protest, she was pleasantly surprised. The Force Recon Marines of Shark Two had readily accepted her leadership. Mark Dallas nodded his agreement. "Aye, aye, Colonel! Logan, Calapango, Bledsoe! Get these prisoners secured!"

"Aye, aye, Staff Sergeant!" The three hurried to complete the task and if they were a bit rough in their hurry, no one cared.

"I'll radio Captain Casey, Colonel" Don said to Mac as she clambered into his truck. "Maybe he can help…"

Frank Witt wiped the sweat from his brow. But the heat of this day wasn't the only thing making him sweat. Darcy had just finished impressing on him how important it was for the ANGLICO NCOIC to divert the Navy's Alpha Strike. Before she left, Darcy casually mentioned that Bullard and Reynolds had been found. It seems desert bandits had discovered them, and well, he knew what these 'desert bandits' did to folks that Darcy had determined to be 'unnecessary'.

Sure, he'd get their share of the gold promised them by the Colonel, but this gold was getting awfully bloody. And he wondered if he would even get the chance to enjoy his share….

He could cut and run…yeah, he could do that…if he was suicidal. (No, better to do what she asked and then surrender, yeah; he could say that she'd forced him…)…that is, if Colonel Briggs found them. Besides, all Darcy was asking him to do was to cancel some air strikes. They were probably overkill anyway, he rationalized.

Corporal Bruce Day and Sergeant Greg Saunders opened the door to his stuffy little room. "C'mon Frank," Greg was ready to get out of here. "Our bus has arrived, man. You can send those wild goose chase orders from out there."

Frank started to get up and grab his gear when shouting voices and machine fire filled the air. Stray bullets shattered the window and dug themselves into wall just above Sergeant Witt's head.

"What th-!"

Bruce made his way over to the window and cautiously peered out. "Those damn nosy Polish Peacekeepers followed Jay!" he spat out, "And they brought the MP's with them!"

"That idiot!" Groused Saunders, "Darcy will kill Jay herself for that damn stunt!"

Frank meanwhile was trying to listen to his radio. He could barely make it out, but he was certain the radio talk he heard was from the incoming vanguard of the Navy's Alpha Strike.

"Guys! I'm picking up radio transmissions from one of the Navy's squadrons involved in the air strikes!"

More stray bullets flew through the room causing the three men to dive to the floor. Bruce Day looked over at the ANGLICO NCOIC.

"Dammit! We gotta cut our losses Frank; start sending that abort message so we can get the hell outta here!"

Harm was watching the terrain as he scanned for signs of insurgent AA guns or missiles. It was about time to contact the Force Recon ANGLICO. The aviator/lawyer sure hoped that his Marine partner had been able to handle Colonel Livingston.

"Bassett Four this is Eagle 21, Misno one one; eighteen fox bravos; fourteen fox fourteen delta, four fox bravo eighteen delta. Northeast grid 38 Angels 4 and sliding. Continue? Over…"

Harm was startled by the gunfire he could hear in the background as the ANGLICO answered. If the recon team was under fire, that couldn't be good. He tried not to think what might be happening to Mac.

"Eagle 21, this is Bassett Three…." Harm felt his heart drop. If the ANGLICO NCO in charge was calling him instead of the ANGLICO officer, things must be bad.

Harm, tamping down his emotions, followed radio protocol. "Bassett Three; please authenticate-"

Frank nearly stomped on the aviator/lawyer's transmission in his hurry to get this over with. The hell with Darcy; once this was over with, he was out of here. "Eagle 21, I authenticate; Charlie, Alpha, Juliet, Uniform, November, over."

Harm gave his new position. "Bassett Three, Eagle 21; Northeast grid 39, Angels 2 and sliding, Continue? Over."

Frank glanced at Bruce and Greg who silently urged him to finish this. "Eagle 21, this is Bassett Three; abort delta bravo; abort delta bravo; abort delta bra-"

Frank Witt keeled over onto his back, an ugly bullet hole marring his forehead. His death could have been caused by one of the stray bullets from the Polish BRDM or even the weapons of Sergeant Canella's MP squad, Special Agent DiNozzo, or even a precise shot from Special Agent Gibbs.

But the bullet that killed Sergeant Witt came from Bruce Day's pistol. And instead of being confused or horrified by Day's action, Greg was pleased.

Harm had heard Witt's call sign, then what sounded like the abort code for the operation, but the rest of his voice was drowned out by a pistol report.

"Bassett Three; confirm, abort delta bravo? Over."

Sergeant Saunders nodded to Day, who mimicked Witt's voice. "Eagle 21, this is Bassett Three; disregard abort delta bravo, I say again; disregard abort delta bravo…continue…you are cleared hot…"

Harm not knowing what had just taken place, acknowledged the transmission. "Eagle 21, continuing…cleared hot...roger."

Darcy had never intended for Frank Witt to issue the abort code. The Force Recon CO instead wanted Eagle squadron to hit the decoys and declare them destroyed. That would leave the real SCUD and FROG missile launchers free to initiate their devastating strikes without the worry about an impending air strike.

Sergeant Witt had just been one more willing dupe who could be conveniently disposed of when no longer needed. Darcy knew that he was more comfortable with aborting the Alpha Strike than letting them hit decoys so, in a sense, Frank had outlived his usefulness. And Bruce and Greg were more than happy to take his share of the gold. They both knew that Darcy thought Frank's conscience was a liability they couldn't afford.

Gibbs heard the pistol report in between the noise of the dueling machine guns. His flinty blue eyes narrowed. A pistol at this range would be practically useless against a BRDM, much less an AMTRAC. There was something else going on and he was going to find out what. "November Two, remain in overwatch…"

"Solid copy, November One," Tony replied gratefully. "Remaining in overwatch…"

The senior silver haired NCIS Agent carefully worked his way around the immobilized LAV. Though it couldn't move, Rover One was still a dangerous opponent; especially if they…

The heavy thunk, thunk, thunk of the LAV's M-242 25 millimeter autocannon announced they had been able to strengthen their defensive capability. Gibbs hoped they wouldn't be able to knock out Baranova's BRDM or Sergeant Damato's AMTRAC. Right now, though, he was more concerned with what was going on in that farmhouse.

Saddam Fedayeen Arif [Sergeant] Abu al-Khammesh rolled his faded orange and white Nissan pickup truck to a stop in the trees adjacent to al-Izz's troops. The Saudi born soldier nodded to the machine gun crew manning the 12.7mm DShK on board. Every little bit would help them defeat the infidels. The big machine gun began chattering away, adding to the amount of lethal fire aimed at the U.S. Marine and Polish positions.

It seemed to Tony that things were going from bad to worse. Samir's foot soldiers were rushing to the aid of the renegade Rover One. Canella's troops were holding their own for the moment, but they needed more backup than the two NCIS Agents could give.

And at the moment, Tony was their only backup. He wished that Colonel Baranova's scouts would join the fray, but they were in a really precarious position so he could understand their reluctance to come out into the open.

(Okay Tony, make these shots count,) he thought to himself. The Senior Field Agent pointed his rifle at the shape of the pickup truck that he could make out in the trees and fired off an aimed three round burst.

The DShK machine gun chattered wildly for moment and then stopped. Al-Khammesh looked back at the pickup bed and saw why. His machine gun crew was dead; the machine gun pointing uselessly at the canopy of trees.

Tony noted the amount of gunfire headed toward them had lessened. Even Rover One's autocannon had fallen silent again. Sergeant Canella's men were directing fire toward the pickup truck.

Mac saw as they cleared the saddle of the ridge that whoever was hidden in those trees on that low rise south of this group of buildings was under fire from insurgents. Commander May's HMMWV began firing on the insurgents.

"Corporal!" Mac barked above the firing of their truck's own machine gun, "Get us closer to that farm house!"

"Aye ma'am!"

Gibbs couldn't believe what he was seeing. A trio of camouflaged Dodge pickups and a sand-colored HMMWV, followed by a Desert Patrol vehicle were headed straight toward him. All were firing over him at the insurgent positions.

Rather than drawing attention to himself, the Head of the Washington DC MCRT continued his progress toward the farmhouse.

Kayce suddenly spotted a Marine making his way toward the farmhouse.

"Colonel! Starboard side!" she called out.

There was something about his bearing that made Mac wonder if it could possibly be Leroy Jethro Gibbs. At that moment he turned and looked her in the eyes. It was Gibbs all right.

"Hard to starboard, Corporal!" Mac ordered.

Don nodded and veered the truck to the right.

Staff Sergeant Fuller could see the fortified hill ahead, staring at him like some kind of malevolent monster. He'd thought their troubles were over when they bulled their way through the insurgent positions at the farm. Now the Staff Sergeant realized that had only been the beginning. He looked over to his right and saw Sergeant Sewett in Rover Three staring at the same obstacle.

They didn't have to exchange comments on this. Even with helo air support this would have been one tough nut to crack. They knew with the minimal air support they had right now it was going to be really tough.

Zack Fuller hoped his units' scouts had located any man-portable SAM systems that might be able to harass what air support they had. Once they neutralized those, it would be up to artillery to blast the opposition and then use the combat engineers to subdue any stubborn holdouts.

"Rover Four Alpha to Rover Four…" 1st Lieutenant Chapps, OIC of Rover platoon's scout teams was reporting in; hopefully with some good news.

The Staff Sergeant keyed his mike. "Rover Four, go…"

"All tangos sierra alpha mikes accounted for…" It was the news Zack had hoped to hear from Owen Chapps. This would make their job a tad easier.

Zack keyed his mike again. "Roger Four Alpha, standby…"

"Standing by, Four…"

Staff Sergeant Fuller switched frequencies and made his call. "Rover Four to Gatorforce Leader…"

Colonel Baxter must've been sitting right by the radio considering how quickly he responded. Old Man Briggs had never responded this quickly to his reports. "This is Leader; go ahead Four…"

He gave his new boss the good news. "Alphas are in position."

Baxter's response was terse and to the point. "Execute Four; Leader out."

Zack Fuller switched his radio back to the platoon net and spoke the code word Chapps had been waiting to hear. "Four to Alphas; Wolf."

Chapps responded immediately. "I copy Wolf; Four Alpha out…"

Now began the waiting. Unless the insurgents discovered their positions and began firing back, no one would hear the scouts' silenced sniper rifles take out their targets. The only way the NCOIC would know if the plan had worked was if he heard from Owen Chapps again.

Seconds turned into minutes. Still nothing. Zack soon heard the tell-tale whop, whop, whop which signaled the approach of Baranova's Hinds. He was really glad that at least they had those. He didn't like what he was thinking, but he couldn't help it; Briggs was a fool for grounding Firefly squadron. And he probably wasn't alone in that assessment. Oh well, at least Colonel Baranova let them 'borrow' her helos. He looked around to see from which direction they were approaching.

He couldn't see anything in the skies around him. All he could hear was the chop of the rotors as they faded in and out on the desert wind. If the insurgents had helos, he would've have been worried by the haunting thump, thump.

Sergeant DeWald in the FiST [artillery fire support] LAV was expecting to hear the precise English tones of Porucznik Wawrzyniak any moment—

"Firefly Six Actual to Hawk One…" Sergeant DeWald exchanged amazed looks with Corporal Roca. Corporal Yamura nearly fell out of his seat.

"Firefly Six Actual to Hawk One…acknowledge…" The voice said more insistent. Stephen DeWald hastily keyed his mike. "Hawk One; go…"

"Firefly is inbound; mind if we join the party?"

DeWald looked over at Yamura who nodded. Obviously, the Corporal had just received confirmation that this actually was Captain Maxwell and not an insurgent trick.

HMLA-975 was back in the game.

"Glad to have you back Firefly…" DeWald said; the smile on his face was infectious.

"Glad to be back Hawk One," Steve Maxwell replied, "Got any eyes on the target we can have, over?"

Kevin Yamura nodded to Sergeant DeWald. The 'eyes' that Maxwell was referring to were the numerous drone aircraft that were buzzing around their current objective like bees looking for pollen.

"Wait one, Six…"

Kevin took over talking to the 'Blue Max'. "Hawk One to Six Actual; eyes and ears have your targets…will feed to you when green…."

"Roger Wilco Hawk One; Six Actual out."

Lieutenant Jim Hawkins and Combat Engineer Lieutenant Ansel Paige looked up as the thumping of the rotors grew louder and louder. "Here comes our Polish close air support…" Gunnery Sergeant Sanchez noted.

The yells, whoops, and hollering took Hawkins by surprise. Why were the men so excited to see the Hinds?

"Hot damn! The air cavalry's here!" Barked out a PFC.

"Bout time!" groused another PFC "Where the hell have they been?"

Jim Hawkins looked to the east and saw the unmistakable shape of AH-1 Cobras flying in formation with the Hinds. A smile slowly spread across his face as he turned to Sanchez. "Gunny! Get the men ready, as soon the helos finish their assault and artillery barrage lifts we move in."

Sanchez was all smiles as well. "Aye, aye sir!"

Mac, Gunny, Kayce, Cienfuentes, Gonzales and Burke lay tight and rigid, prone on the ground just behind a slight rise. Staff Sergeant Dallas was hammering away at the stone farmhouse with the .50 caliber M-2HB machine gun on board Corporal Burges' pickup.

On the other side of the field, Sergeants Al Bradenton and Casmir Szymas were banging away at the insurgent's positions with Sergeants' Williams and Dahl's machine guns. Sergeant Canella had moved his men next to the two pickup trucks.

In the middle of the field, Colonel Baranova and her scouts had dismounted and were now opening fire as well.

Mac looked to her left. Special Agent Gibbs darted between points of concealment making his way toward the farmhouse and ignoring the hail of fire coming from it.

"Concentrated fire!" The JAG Corps Light Colonel ordered. "Keep them off Special Agent Gibbs' back!"

"November Two, one suspect visible; I'm almost in position…" Gibbs reported to Tony.

Tony in the meantime had left his position and was now circling around to the right of the farmhouse.

"Copy November One; I've got another tango visible at my nine o'clock…."

Aboard Rover One, Jesse Strong was lying unconscious on the turret floor of the armored truck.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Pogue was livid and started toward him.

Jay drew his sidearm and pointed it right between his eyes. "Get on that two forty! I'll take over the main gun and the coax!" he snarled.

"What about Jesse?" John Pogue said in a more subdued tone.

"Screw him…!" Jay spit out and motioned for John to move toward the turret hatch.

The once seemingly impregnable hill was now boiling with smoke and flame. A GAZ-66 truck mounting ZPU-2 23mm anti-aircraft machine gun shuddered to stop as 20mm rounds from Cobra walked all over it. The crew, dead or dying, never felt the warmth of the explosion as a Hellfire missile found its mark, obliterating the insurgent technical.

"Zero Two! Rolling in hot!" Anwar Hafez announced as he shot up UAZ jeep trying to make a getaway. The driverless jeep gushed flame as it overturned on the steep incline of the hill and tumbled even over end.

Ben Lukens was above and behind Firefly Two. As Two swung to the right, Lukens saw an insurgent pull himself out of a shattered bunker and drag an SA-7 anti-aircraft portable missile launcher with him.

"Break left Two! Break left! MANPAD to your right!" Lukens barked. As Firefly Two swung sharply to the left. Lieutenant Buell fired off long rippling burst of cannon fire at the identified target.

Firefly Five flew in from the right about to add his cannon fire but he could see the insurgent was sprawled on the ground, arms and legs at impossible angles.

"Bravo Zulu One!" Ian Skaggs radioed Lukens "You got him!"

Anwar Hafez wheeled his gunship around and saw the threat was gone. "Thanks One; I owe you…"

"No sweat Two," Ben Lukens quipped. "Let's get the rest of these tangos before artillery ruins our fun…"

Captain Maxwell was pleased; he was glad his unit was back where it belonged. Despite the squadron having been grounded for nearly four months, they hadn't lost their edge. They and the Polish Hinds had broken the back of this second insurgent strong point. Now all they had to do was find Objective India and do the same-"

"Gatorforce Leader to Firefly Six Actual…"

"This is Six Actual; go Leader…"

"The NCIS agents and our Polish coalition leader, Colonel Baranova, went after Rover One-"

Maxwell thought static might have made him not hear that last transmission correctly. "Leader confirm; did you say Rover One?"

The pause was only momentary. "Affirmative Six; Rover One is a possible tango…their last heading was grid 38; coordinates R 26 and V 22…"

The 'Blue Max' didn't have to be told any more. "Firefly Six Actual, Roger, Leader, out."

Steve switched his radio briefly to the Polish Hinds' frequency to see how they were doing.

"Osprey One this is Hound Three, taking heavy enemy fire at coordinates - grid 39; M 18, V 20; Requesting close air support-we need close air support! Do you copy?"

Steve had served long enough to have picked up a smattering of Polish. He couldn't understand all of the transmission, but he could tell whoever Hound Three was that they needed help.

It was time for Firefly to help out the Poles…after all, they had helped Baxter when HMLA-975 was grounded. He just hoped he could remember the right phrasing….

"Hound Three this is Firefly Six Actual, responding to your request for close air support! Hang tight, help is on the way!"

He had. The Polish radio officer responded in perfect English. "Firefly Six Actual, this is Hound Three…appreciate the assist…out."

Steve Maxwell quickly switched to the squadron frequency. "Firefly Six Actual to Four…!"

"Firefly Four, go Six…'

"Three and Four; our Polish allies need our help. Hound Three is requesting close air support at coordinates - grid 39, coordinates…M 18, V 20…"

"Roger Wilco. On our way, Cap'n; Four out…"

"And Four…find out where those NCIS agents got to…they should be close to Hound Three."

"Copy, Six Actual…Four Out…" Both helos banked right and headed toward Hound Three's position.

Mac, Gunny and the others hunkered down as close to the ground as they could as the amount of gunfire coming from the farmhouse increased exponentially.

"Geez!" Kayce tried to push herself deeper into the sand.

Sergeant Saunders scuttled to the back of the house and looked out the window. Coming down the dirt road was an OT-64 personnel carrier followed by GAZ-66 technical and a Ural-375 6x6 cargo truck.

"Here's our bus!" He yelled to Bruce Day. "Time to get the hell outta here!"

"Right behind you," Bruce called out as he emptied his automatic into Witt's lifeless body. Bruce figured the more bullets in the body, the better – it would look like he got caught in a crossfire.

Saunders and Day headed out the back door – in the distance they could see the Czechoslovakian personnel carrier supported by the anti-aircraft technical. The GAZ heavy machine gun truck was normally used against helicopters and observation aircraft, but it also served as a decent anti-personnel weapon. The Ural 6x6 cargo truck was just behind the AA technical. The passengers in the Ural's truck cab were manning the vehicle's NSV heavy machine gun and had begun to fire at AAV and BRDM.

The OT-64 carrier rolled closer, keeping its heavy machine guns firing at Mac's team.

In keeping focused on Shark Two and suppressing them, they ignored Sergeant Canella's men and Colonel Baranova's reconnaissance scouts.

As the carrier rumbled up to the back door of the farm house, an 83mm rocket shot out to the left of the vehicle, sending up a fountain of sand.

"Shot wide! Shot wide Corporal!" Canella bellowed above the din of the battle.

Greg and Bruce, recovering from the MP's SMAW near miss, began firing their rifles toward Canella's MP squad.

The near miss had unnerved the OT-64 driver as well and he slowed down which made Greg and Bruce make a run for it – that was all that Kayce Danvers needed. She quickly lined up her target and fired.

Gibbs, taking advantage of the near miss, also lined up his target and fired.

Greg Saunders grunted and dropped his rifle as bullets flew into him from two different directions.

Bruce was horrified as he watched the badly wounded Sergeant drop soundlessly to the ground.

From the passenger compartment, two insurgent soldiers had managed to climb out of the OT-64 carrier and were urging Bruce Day to forget about the Sergeant and get on board.

"Yalla!/Come on!"

"Yalla halan!/Come immediately!"

Before Day could move, a second SMAW rocket found its mark and the resulting explosion incinerated the carrier, sending the two insurgents sprawling face down on the sand.

As parts of the destroyed carrier continued to rain down, Bruce realized it was only going to get worse for him. (Screw Darcy!)

He threw down his rifle and thrust his hands into the air, screaming "I surrender! I surrender!"

The GAZ and the Ural, seeing the carrier cough flames, hastily shifted into reverse and backed away while continuing to fire. Both had obviously decided it was time to get the hell out of there—Darcy Livingston's orders be damned. As they pulled out, Arif al-Khammesh decided it was also time to abandon these traitors to their fate. Darcy and Samir would not fault him for this sacrifice. He backed his truck out of the woods and joined the retreating trucks. The rest of the insurgents, also seeing that the tide had turned, quietly abandoned the battlefield. Corporal Raden and his crew were on their own now.

Gibbs grabbed Day and hustled him to where Mac, Gunny and the others were waiting.

"Here's your prisoner, Colonel." The senior NCIS agent shoved a reticent Bruce Day down next to Kayce.

Mac was about to say something to Gibbs when 25 millimeter cannon fire began peppering their position. All five scrambled for better protection as Staff Sergeant Dallas turned his machine gun against this new threat.

Luisa Baranova, finally able to get out of the confines of her armored car, could see that Rover One was now threatening the newly arrived Navy and Marine reconnaissance troops.

While her soldiers could deal with close-in threats, without their vehicle's missile launcher, they were at a distinct disadvantage.

Sergeant Damato didn't know Jay Raden or what his motivations were, but he did know one thing; Raden had to be stopped.

Firefly Three and Four, flying in tandem formation, searched the arid countryside for the Polish vehicle known as 'Hound Three'.

"See anything, Wayne?" Lieutenant Mason 'Rich' Aubrey asked his wingman.

"Negative Rich…" replied Lieutenant Towers sounding bored.

"According to Six, we should be able to see them soon…" Aubrey reminded his wingman. It wasn't good to be bored when flying in enemy territory.

Andre Lesinski had gotten out of his armored truck to inspect the damage to his missile launcher when he heard the approaching American Marine helicopter gunships. He quickly climbed back inside and got on his radio.

"This is Hound Three; requesting close air support against Marine armored truck-"

Canella [who had just made it back to the amphibious carrier] heard the Cobra gunships approaching and Sierzant Lesinski's call. Sergeant Damato reinforced Lesinski's request. "Firefly, Firefly, this is Seahorse Five; urgently requesting close support fire against Rover One-"

Wayne Towers couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Rich, the Polish BRDM and Seahorse Five are requesting we fire on that LAV!"

Rich Aubrey felt the same way. Six had told them to assist the Poles – not fire on a LAV. "I heard them, Wayne…." (What the hell have we stumbled onto?)

His wingman's thoughts mirrored his own. "Rich, they're nuts! We can't fire on one of our own!"

Then another voice came over the helos' comm. net. A gruff, forceful voice. "Firefly! Open fire on Rover One!"

Lieutenant Aubrey knew the first two players, but wasn't sure who the third voice belonged to. "Who the hell is this?"

Rich peered out his cockpit to see if he could see the origin of the third voice. All he could see were HMMWVs, DPVs and three Dodge pickup trucks with their guns aimed at what looked like a disabled LAV. Everyone else who had spoken to him must be under the trees. Considering everything that had happened in the past few months, this could be another insurgent trick and the crew of Rover One might be the ones needing help…

Then the angry third voice replied. "This is Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS! Who am I talking to?"

"This is Lieutenant Mason Richard Aubrey…" Rich began to spit back his response when it hit him that there was no way the insurgents could know about everything Leroy Jethro Gibbs. But there was something he could ask that would let him know that this third joker was on the level. He paused a moment, then spoke.

"Special Agent Gibbs, as in Gunny Gibbs who used to work with the MP's at Lejune?" Rich's weapon officer didn't know what his boss was doing, but he hoped it worked.

Tony couldn't resist the dig. Especially since Gibbs couldn't see him. "Boy Boss; you sure were popular…"

"Shut up and return fire November Two!"

Gibbs was more annoyed than pleased he had run into someone from his past. Right now wasn't the time for reunions. "Yeah, yeah that's me; now lay down some suppressive fire against that LAV!"

The LAV wasn't firing at anyone at the moment. Gibbs' request didn't make any sense to the helo pilot. "Sir, I can't do that…"

"Lieutenant! Don't argue with me, do it now!"

"He's not firing on anyone, Special Agent Gibbs-"

That was when Mac's voice entered their headsets. "Firefly Four this is Sierra Six Mike Actual! He's listening to our radio transmissions, Lieutenant! That's why he isn't firing – ask him! Go ahead, ask him!"

Rich and Wayne spotted the fourth speaker – it was a female Force Recon trooper. Despite her recon garb, Wayne recognized her from when she did her JAGMAN investigation with that hot shot Top Gun lawyer Rabb.

That did it.

There was only one way to settle this. Rich lowered Firefly Four and moved directly in front of the LAV. "Rover One, Rover One; this is Firefly Four; request that you stand down your weapons and explain what is going on….

Rover One turned its turret toward the two gunships and began firing on them. Apparently whoever was on board didn't like being asked whose side they were on!

"Rich! We're taking fire from that LAV!" Firefly Three skittered sideways to avoid the incoming rounds from the Marine armored truck.

Rich had also evaded the autocannon rounds; it was clear to him who was the immediate threat. "She's not ours, Wayne; warning fire across the bow of that LAV!

The two gunships fired 20mm autocannon rounds along the front of the LAV. Undeterred, Rover One continued to try and track the two helos.

"He's not listening, Rich!"

"Rocket! Aim for the area in front of his vehicle! Show him we mean business Wayne!"

Firefly Three and Four fired another burst from their guns and Three sent a 5.00 inch rocket into the dirt in front of the LAV.

Dirt and debris rained down on top of Rover One. Its gun fell silent.

Inside, John Pogue exchanged panicked looks with Jay Raden. "Look man," Pogue said as he started for the turret hatch, "you can be a martyr for this broad if you want, but I'll take my chances with the Navy cops!"

Jay grabbed his arm in desperation. "John-!"

John Pogue yanked away from Jay's grip but also gave him some food for thought. "Jay, it's over, man – look; if Jesse doesn't die, the most they'll have us for at this point is disobeying orders….

Firefly Four again flew directly in front of the LAV. "Rover One! You are to stand down now! That's an order, Corporal Raden!"

Louis Casano decided if he was going to prevent a massacre, he'd better speak now. "Jesse!" He yelled. This is Sergeant Casano! It's over; you can't get away! These gunships will plow you under if you try to make a break for it! Don't you see? It's not worth it! Talk to John and Jay-tell them to give up!"

'Lucky Louie' had survived another brush with death. For that Jay was thankful. He looked over at his partner in crime. With no gas, dwindling ammunition, no backup and an unconscious, possibly dying, crewmember their options were few.

"Yeah…yeah, you're right, John…you're right." Jay said quietly. Surrender was preferable to death at the hands of Darcy Livingston.

The turret hatches on the LAV popped open and two pairs of arms pointed skyward.

"Don't shoot! We surrender!"

"Yeah man, we give up!"

"Secure the LAV crew, Tony!"

"Right Boss!"

While the NCIS agent secured Rover One's occupants, Mac and Shark Two stormed the farm house, looking for Sergeant Witt.

-TBC…


	81. Chapter 80

**…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 80**

Mac went in high and Gunny went in low as they broke open the bullet riddled door.

"Clear!" Gunny called out to the rest of the team.

Kayce and Ryan Burke moved into the interior of the house. Even in the gloom of the unlit interior they could see how much damage it suffered.

"Clear!" Burke yelled back to Mac and Gunny.

Kayce motioned with her hand that she was going to the back room.

Ryan nodded his head and aimed his rifle to cover her entrance into the room.

She cautiously moved past the open door and into the back room.

It took her a moment to adjust to the shafts of light filtering into the gloom. As her eyes became accustomed, she could see Sergeant Frank Witt's body sprawled on the floor. Witt had a faint look of surprise on his face, probably because of what he saw just before the bullet that made that ugly hole in his forehead.

Kayce's eyes searched what she could now see was a bullet scarred room. Like the rest of the house, it was in shambles. However, Witt's radio was surprisingly intact.

_Sergeant Saunders and Corporal Day obviously forgot the radio equipment when they tried to bug out-_ She was pulled away from her assessment by the sound of Mac and Gunny entering the house.

"Colonel! In here!"

Kayce pointed to the secure radio set as the JAG Light Colonel entered the room. Mac winced when she saw Witt's body.

"Eagle 21 to Eagle squadron; one minute to target…"

Mac's heart leapt when she heard Harm's faint voice coming from the radio's headset. She quickly walked over and picked up the radio mike and pressed the push-to-talk button.

The voices on the headset continued as she put them on…

"Tally Ho! I've got a SCUD TEL ready to launch – 11 o'clock low!"

All the pent up fear and worry that had been with Mac since this ordeal began boiled out of her.

"Eagle squadron! This is Sierra Six Mike actual! Abort! Abort! Those SCUDS are armed with hydrogen cyanide!"

The voices on the other end didn't seem bothered by her dire report.

"In your back pocket, Hammer…"

"Eagle 21 is in…"

Mac didn't understand. She had depressed the push-to-talk button and spoke into the receiver. She checked the mike was plugged into the unit – it was. She tried again. She had to get through!

"Eagle 21! This is Sierra Six Mike actual! The SCUDs are carrying hydrogen cyanide! Abort! Abort!"

**Operation King Cobra D-Day+? hours  
>Approaching Objective India<strong>

Harm watched as Objective India grew larger in his sights. The recon photographs from the LATIRN flights and diagrams didn't do the fortification justice. He remembered from the briefing that the squat triangular battalion defensive position was supposed to be part of a larger divisional position for defending the al Nasiriyah area during the war with Iran. However after the Iranian invasion of Basra failed, resources were diverted elsewhere and a single battalion defensive area was the only part that had been built.

The aviator/lawyer could see two MAZ-543P 9M117M1 mobile missile launchers parked in horseshoe shaped positions and just behind them were two armed ZIL-135L4 rocket trucks parked in similar armored vehicle revetments. They were the center of the cobbled together juggernaut consisting of OT-64 armored personnel carriers and TR-77 tanks that were positioned at the three points of the defensive area.

While it wasn't a battalion's worth of vehicles, al-Sahood had marshaled a sizeable force; and with the added punch from the missile and rocket launchers, this was now a formidable force. Captain Ingles had been right. They had been busy little beavers.

"Supergirl cover my six!"

"Got'cha covered Hammer!"

**Another voice came over Mac's headset.** "Tally Ho, I've got a second SCUD TEL ready to launch at one o'clock low!"

Harm's voice came back on again. "Engaging now…weapons free!

**Over Objective India**

As Eagle 21 zeroed in on the SCUD launcher, he flipped the pickle switch on his cockpit instrument panel, releasing the bombs from their mounts. The laser guided 1,000 and 2,000 pound bombs sailed free of their mounts and controlled by Harm's Radar Intercept Officer, headed toward their target.

One 2,000 pound bomb fell short, ripping the right tread off a TR-77 tank sitting in the forward triangular company position. The concussive force from the bomb and its shrapnel did the rest, knocking the tank out of action before it even had a chance to participate in the battle.

Harm's two other bombs found their target.

Mulazim [1st Lieutenant] Ahmed watched in terrified disbelief as the two laser guided American bombs headed straight towards him (Where are our anti-aircraft guns and missiles?) was his last coherent thought as the bombs ripped into his MAZ truck and it's tactical missile. The resulting explosion obliterated Faruk Ahmed and his vehicle.

Supergirl in Eagle 22 toggled her pickle switch and four more Mark 84s headed to their target – the second eight wheeled MAZ truck which was now trying to get its stalled engine restarted. Before the crew could flee, four laser guided bombs immolated the truck and its missile.

Next 'Rhino' in Eagle 31 walked a line of 20 millimeter shells into two rebuilt engineering vehicles that had been parked next to the tank that Harm had just destroyed. Mulazim Aly leapt from his turret hatch as 20mm cannon shells ripped into the T-55 BTU bulldozer tank and then tore into the rebuilt front armor of the T-62 KMT-6 mine clearing tank that was just behind him. Rhino kept his finger on the trigger as he sailed past the two exploding SCUDs, ripping jagged lines across an OT-64 infantry carrier that was trying to escape the carnage and tearing a GAZ jeep to pieces.

Flying Cloud in Eagle 32 dropped three CBU [cluster bombs] over his target, the first FROG-7 rocket launcher. The three canisters seemed to open simultaneously, showering the eight wheel ZIL-135L4 all terrain truck with bomblets. The mobile rocket launcher and its crew disappeared in a cloud of smoke and flame.

Diana 'Sweet Cheeks' Schaffer in Eagle 33 and Ben 'Wolfie' Walsh in Eagle 34 fired their remaining 5.00mm rockets at the second ZIL truck. As it detonated, the ZIL truck with the crane assembly and three extra Luna R-75 rockets, caught fire and exploded because of its close proximity to Sweet Cheek's and Wolfie's target.

With the main targets destroyed, the rest of the 'Raptors' pounced on the remains of Sahood's assembled assault force.

**Safe in his reinforced bunker,** Ra'id [Captain] al Bazz bowed his head as the concussive explosions continued. He hoped Faruk would be rewarded in paradise for his sacrifice [even if it was misguided] and he would make sure that those responsible paid for his death.

**Mac had to use every bit of her self control** to keep from picking up the radio and smashing it to bits against the wall – she wanted to scream; she wanted to hit something. There was nothing she could do to stop the gas cloud that would soon envelop Harm and the others and they would all be dead.

"Eagle 43 pulling out…"

"Good hit Eagle 44…"

In a brief moment of clarity, she realized the rest of VF-218 was making their run without incident. _What had happened to the gas cloud?_

Kayce, knowing that the Colonel was extremely worried about Commander Rabb, was not sure what to do next. The JAG Corps Officer couldn't get through to the Commander no matter how hard she tried. She could see that Mac had a death grip on the microphone – she glanced at Burke and he nodded his agreement—maybe they could find the problem. Without looking at Mac, she began examining the radio with Burke. After a few moments Kayce found the source of radio's malfunction.

"They can't hear you, ma'am," she replied as gently as she could given Mac's agitated state as she eased the radio mike from her hand, "because Sergeant Saunders and Corporal Day sabotaged the radio…"

Mac nodded when she heard that. The fact that the trucks Harm and his squadron had destroyed were not armed with HCN was a tiny bit of good news, but it also meant that Sahood's missiles were still somewhere out there even if he didn't have launchers for them. Now added to that knowledge was that her only connection with Harm was useless. She couldn't take much more of this.

"Corporal Day would like to help fix that, Colonel…"

Mac gathered herself, turned and saw a thoroughly defeated Bruce Day being hustled into the room by Corporals Logan and Calapango.

"He had this in his breast pocket ma'am." Luke Calapango stated.

Logan handed the circuit card to Mac.

"I can put that back in, ma'am," Burke volunteered. He had only known the Colonel for short time, but he wanted to help in any way he could.

Victor moved closer to Mac…he was the only one in the room who really knew her and could tell just how drained the Light Colonel really was. He wanted to tell her it would be okay, but he knew things were far from okay right now. "Get to it, Petty Officer" he ordered.

"Aye, aye, Gunny,"

Burke took the circuit board and began working to open an access panel on the front of the unit. In the meantime the radio reports from pilots of VF-218 continued.

"Eagle 54 to Eagle 21 – the strikes look good…"

"Tell the Colonel what you told us…" Luke Calapango said in a threatening tone to Day. Logan moved into Corporal Day's personal space.

Bruce Day, though, wasn't about to tell this lady JAG anything. Despite the screw-ups, everything was going according to plan just like Darcy said it would.

"If he won't tell you what you need to know, I'm sure these two will, Colonel…"

Everyone in the room turned to see the smiling uniformed NCIS Agent, Tony DiNozzo, hustling Corporal Jay Raden and Lance Corporal John Pogue into the room.

"C'mon guys; now tell the Colonel here what you told me…" he said in sing-song voice to the two handcuffed men.

When they didn't respond, Tony twisted their handcuffed arms, causing both men to wince.

"C'mon…tell her…" he prodded in that same sing-song tone.

"E-Eagle squadron hit dummy launchers, Colonel…" Jay blurted out. He avoided looking at Corporal Day, who could have burned holes in his shirt with his angry glare.

"Decoys, ma'am they hit decoys…" Pogue added quickly. He was glad to tell Colonel MacKenzie this info. Maybe she could stop this madness. "The real missiles—that is, the live ones—and their trucks are still underground…"

"Underground?" Victor demanded before Mac could say anything. "What do you mean, Corporal?"

Jay spoke up before John could finish. "They have them stored in underground bunkers—underneath the battalion defensive position—Objective India, Colonel."

If Day had a gun at that moment in time, he would have killed everyone in the room. But he was handcuffed and the two Recon troopers holding him each had him tight by the arms. No, the only thing he was going to do was endure a trip to Charleston or worse, Gitmo.

"I got it Colonel!" Ryan Burke announced triumphantly to everyone assembled in the room. Day felt sick to his stomach. Jay kept his head down, not wanting to look at anyone. John Pogue was relieved.

Mac took the mike away from Kayce.

"Eagle 21, this is Sierra Six Mike actual, do you read?"

"Sierra—Sierra Six Mike actual, this is Eagle 21…go ahead…." Harm sounded startled to hear her voice. Maybe it was because he hadn't expected to hear from her.

"Eagle, you have hit dummy targets, I say again; you have hit dummy targets! Harm, your real objective – the real SCUDs- are still in their underground garages! They are carrying hydrogen cyanide which has to be neutralized first!"

"What are you saying, Mac?" Harm and Mac had just broken combat radio protocol and probably a dozen other regulations with their communication, but it showed just how astounded Harm was by her revelation and how relieved she was that she was able to warn him. She could imagine that the rest of the Raptors were just as bewildered by her announcement. Soon though, they would come to the same conclusion. There weren't any refueling vehicles at Objective India or any radar trucks present – only a few command vehicles, the launchers and one truck with extra rockets. The Raptors had just helped Samir al-Sahood get rid of some excess baggage in a very public way.

The Light Colonel knew that her next words would most likely send his knight in shining armor gene into overdrive. "I'm saying we'll neutralize the weapons, and then you can take out the launchers…."

"What about you, Mac?" If these violations continued, he could arrest himself when he landed on the Patrick Henry. It was dumb of him to break protocol like that, but then if he hadn't she probably would have. Still, for a wonder, he didn't tell her not to do it. But they both knew why. It was because of what was at stake.

"Don't worry, we'll get clear…" she reassured him. It was a weak thin promise that probably would dry up and blow away if stared at too hard. But it was all she had to give him.

"Read you loud and clear Sierra Six Mike actual," Harm said stoically, "Wait one…"

Harm hurriedly switched frequencies. Pete wanted to ask about what just took place but decided he could ask later.

"Talil Air Base, Talil Air Base; this is Eagle 21—we need to rearm to complete our attack on Objective India! Can you comply? Over."

There was a pregnant pause followed by a slightly sarcastic voice. "Talil Air Base to Eagle 21; we need more information on why you need to re-arm –you are the vanguard of an Alpha Strike which should be able to eliminate the target…."

Despite the tone, it was a logical request and the aviator/lawyer had a perfectly logical reason for his request.

"Talil Air Base; Marine and Navy recon has discovered the SCUD launchers we hit were decoys…the real launchers will be brought out soon, carrying missiles loaded with hydrogen cyanide. Recon can neutralize the cyanide, but we need to hit those launchers again before they can be reloaded…." Then Harm made an educated guess. "Recon says that the SCUD launchers won't come out of hiding until after the Alpha Strike, over."

Harm could hear voices conferring in the background [most likely about the arrival time for the other members of the Alpha Strike and the arrival times for the B-1s and B-52s from Diego Garcia]. This was followed by a few choice expletives traded back and forth by the controllers and their senior officers over the open mike.

It was evident that the news of this nasty surprise had caught them off guard.

After a moment, the flight controller came back "Talil Air Base to Eagle 21; we read you loud and clear and will have your ordnance ready and waiting; come and get it!"

Harm smirked and shook his head at what took place. "Eagle 21 to Talill Air Base; our thanks and roger wilco, we're on our way. Eagle out."

"Roger Eagle; Talil Air Base out."

Harm switched back to Mac's frequency.

"Sierra Six Mike actual; we're headed to Talil Air Base to refuel and rearm; you've got that much time to take out those missiles-"

Don Burges stuck his head in the door. "Tell the Colonel Hatchet 07 has arrived…"

Mac checked her internal clock. That would give them just enough time to fly in, neutralize the HCN and then fly out again. "Understood Eagle 21, Sierra Six Mike -"

Harm wasn't about to let his Marine go that easily. "Mac…please be careful-!"

Mac closed her eyes and smiled. He knew he couldn't stop her, but he just had to say that. In the past she would have said 'I'm a Marine, Harm' but she knew what he meant this time. They couldn't exchange 'I love yous' at the moment.

"Always Harm; you too…Sierra Six Mike actual, out."

Mac and the others headed out of the farm house out into the open. Hatchet 07 was kicking up quite a sandstorm. She noticed that the Cobras were maintaining a presence high aloft.

"Gunny!" She barked over the thumping of the MH-53's rotors. "You, Commander May and the others find Captain Lewis and Colonel Livingston! We'll join you as soon as we finish at Objective India!"

Gunny was torn. She could see he wanted to go with her. "There's a good chance they'll kill you, ma'am!"

She understood what he was telling her, but she also knew they had few options left at this point. "We have to stop al-Sahood, Gunny! I need you and Commander May to get Colonel Livingston!"

"Understood ma'am!" He turned to the Shark 2/3. "Recon Marines! You heard the Colonel, let's mount up and find Livingston!"

While Gunny conferred with Commander May, Hatchet 07's Crew Chief, Mark Feldman, dropped a length of rope with loops better known as Special procedure infiltration-extraction system (SPIES). Mac turned to Don.

"We figured that this was the fastest way to get you into that defensive position, Colonel!" Don explained.

Sergeant Williams nodded to her. She nodded back, acknowledging his help. "Thanks Corporal!" She said to Don.

"Go get'em, ma'am!"

As the rope hit the ground, Mac turned to Kayce and the other who were exiting the farm house. "Dallas! Bradenton! Danvers! Bledsoe! Burke! Form up on me and get hooked in! We're going to have to stop those missiles ourselves!"

Arnold Bledsoe verbalized what they all felt. "Lead the way, ma'am!"

As Mac and the others got themselves strapped in, Gunny ran over and made sure she was hooked in tight. "Good luck, ma'am; your fruit salads' gonna become mighty colorful after this scrap!"

Mac gave him a bright smile. "And you may earn those Master Guns stripes yet, Gunny!"

He nodded. "Give 'em hell, Colonel! Semper Fi ma'am!"

"Semper Fi, Gunny!" She yelled up to Feldman and CWO Guzman. "Okay! Let's go!"

Hatchet 07 lifted into the sky carrying Mac's team and headed northeast.

**Faith could see why so many women** who met Andrew Baxter were impressed with him…on more than one level. It was similar to the same kind of effect that Special Agent Gibbs had on women as well – herself included-she reluctantly admitted.

Under the Lieutenant Colonel's leadership, GATORFORC E had plowed its way through two insurgent positions with minimal casualties. The malaise that had gripped the 36th MEU was gone. They were an effective fighting unit again.

And secretly, she had been rooting for Harmon Rabb, jr. as well. To the outside world she had to present that cool lawyer façade, but inside, she cheered when the Commander had his squadron rake those insurgent positions before heading on to Objective India.

She wanted so badly to contact Major McBurney and gloat about how well her client was doing and what an asset he was to the Navy and that she certainly was thankful that the Major hadn't won in court. Not that he ever would have.

She didn't know why she wanted to needle him. After all, he had been a big help back at NCIS Headquarters working with that Goth Forensic Specialist Sciuto. She wondered if he had asked Ms. Sciuto out – he had certainly told her that he was going to do it. And she still didn't understand why that bothered her.

"Commander Coleman?" Sergeant Dewert stuck his head outside of Baxter's AMTRAC.

"Yes Sergeant?" She turned away from the mop-up operations that were just about completed.

"Captain Seranovitch from Oriskany Expeditionary Strike Group would like to speak with you, ma'am."

"Thank you Sergeant,"

Dewert lead her inside the AMTRAC and gave her the radio mike which she refrained from wiping off with a towelette, but it took all of her self-control not to do so. She definitely preferred working stateside.

"This is Commander Coleman…."

Faith could hear the whine of the helicopter's engine in the background as the Oriskany SJA talked. "Commander, this is Captain Seranovitch; I've been tasked with coordination between your JAG/NCIS team on the ground and the Senior SJA in Iraq, Colonel Cresswell."

If Gibbs were here, he would correct her by saying 'that's NCIS/JAG team' she thought, smirking to herself. The Captain's news meant that there was fundamental shift in the way Central Command was handling the situation with Colonel Livingston.

"I thought you were in charge of rules of engagement for the Marine air support,"

"I wear many hats Commander," Faith could swear she heard the wryness in her voice. "Where is Special Agent Gibbs?"

"Special Agents Gibbs and DiNozzo are tracking Corporal Jay Raden, a mole for Colonel Livingston."

"Isn't Raden part of Staff Sergeant Fuller's LAV platoon?" The Captain was obviously confused by her comment.

Faith sighed. "He was, until he and his LAV crew went UA and tried to kill a CAAT team." The JAG Corps officer replied dryly.

"Geez; just how much of 36th has been compromised by her, Commander?"

"That's unknown at this point. Colonel MacKenzie is undercover in Livingston's unit trying to find out…."

"Any word from her?" The Captain's tone was almost demanding. Faith Coleman decided to let it slide – this time.

"None, other than official radio traffic with Colonel Baxter." The JAG – NCIS liaison knew this wouldn't sit well with the Captain either….

"So she's deep cover…" Seranovitch said more to herself than to Faith.

"At this moment, yes."

"Geez…"

Her comment was not lost on Faith. "Yes, that would pretty accurately sum up the situation at this moment, Captain…"

**As soon as they left Gibbs, Gunny and the others behind,** Captain Casey began flying Hatchet 07 as low as he dared go with Mac and her squad on the SPIES rope.

It was not the easiest way to fly, but it was the fastest. Mac looked down; Staff Sergeant Dallas was on the loop below hers and Kayce was below Dallas, followed by Bradenton, Burke, and Bledsoe.

From her position talking, or even shouting, was futile. But she could tap Dallas with her foot and give him hand signals that he could they relay to the others.

On board the Pave Low, Captain Casey was getting an update from his contact. "Chloe talk to me; did Eagle squadron give a strike damage assessment on Objective India?"

"Affirmative 'Jack'," replied the 36th MEU radio officer "BDA(Battle Damage Assessment) indicates Objective India's AA assets are temporarily disrupted, you've probably got a window of 10 to 15 minutes before they get them back into action…."

They had come up with the code name when the helo was assigned to the 36th MEU. Both were avid fans of '24' when they got to see it and Don bore a striking resemblance to Keifer Sutherland.

Don traded glances with his co-pilot. "Chloe says we have a window of 10 to 15 minutes to drop the Colonel and her squad on near Objective India, Sal"

Sal shook his head. He didn't like this one bit. "That's cutting it pretty close, Don…"

Don nodded while he adjusted the height of the big Special Ops bird. "I know; but we don't have much choice and neither does the Colonel and her troops, Sal."

The MH-53M co-pilot sighed and then toggled his radio switch "Jankovitch to gun crews; approaching Objective India, get ready to go hot…"

**Operation King Cobra D-Day + ? hours  
><strong>**Talil Air Base  
><strong>**Near al Nasiriyah, Iraq**

The last of the Raptors touched down at the former Iraqi Air Force Base. Harm watched as ground crews in pickup trucks, tanker trucks, HMMWVs and other assorted vehicles rushed out to the taxiing Navy fighter bombers.

"Stay in your cockpits, Eagles; we're only here long enough to get fueled and re-armed," Harm reminded his squadron.

"Hey Hammer, we've got an audience…" Pete reported.

Harm looked over to his right. At the edge of the runway he could see both Australian and Romanian enlisted personnel gawking at the Tomcats and maelstrom of air force swirling around the aircraft. When officers and senior NCOs came over to berate them, Harm idly wondered if Brumby was among those watching….

**Mac's last glimpse of Objective India** had been through her binoculars just before Darcy had captured her and Kayce. What she saw now looked totally different – fires were burning in various parts of the defensive position; burnt and twisted metal that used to be tanks and other armored vehicles were still smoldering, sending up clouds of dark oily smoke.

Men were running back and forth between damaged vehicles and the underground bunkers, and many more of Sahood's men were strewn throughout the fortification – dead. (Could they have been caught this badly unprepared?) she wondered.

Hatchet 07 slowed and lowered Mac's team on the back side of a large hillock near a gaping hole in the battalion defensive position. Each member of her team unhooked themselves and took up positions adjacent to the seemingly badly battered fortress.

When the looped SPIES rope had been pulled back into the big MH-53 helo, it turned around headed at top speed to the southeast, leaving Mac and her team alone.

"Man, they plastered it good…" Arnie Bledsoe said looking up at the heavy smoke that was billowing up and over the top of the dirt and rock berm.

Sergeant Bradenton nodded. "It sure looks that way, Bledsoe; Colonel?"

Mac was also scanning the berm and the hole that had been torn in it. "We'll find out more when we get inside. Cover your faces so they can't tell who we are. In all this confusion we might get lucky and they'll think we're on their side…."

The Light Colonel turned to the SEAL. "How much time before the next wave of fighter bombers, Burke?"

"They should be inbound now, ma'am…" Ryan Burke replied, "This will be the second strike force from Patrick Henry which will then be followed by strikes by Reprisal and SeaHawk."

The JAG Corps Colonel and the Staff Sergeant shared a look. Mark Dallas started to get up. "Then we don't have a lot of time-Burke, Danvers; stay with the Colonel! Bledsoe, Bradenton, come with me!"

Staff Sergeant Dallas lead Al Bradenton and Arnie Bledsoe to the base of the fortification. They made their way to the yawning gap in the fortification's walls made by the Raptors' bombs. After carefully checking for anyone watching them, Dallas motioned for Mac, Kayce and Burke to join them.

Mac looked up at the crumbling sides of the fortification when she and the others joined Dallas, Bradenton and Bledsoe. The bombs had ripped a large gash which could collapse in on itself at any moment in the fortification's side.

"The first bunker is right over there, ma'am" Mark said, trying not to let his voice carry.

"Okay, bounding overwatch by twos to the bunker entrance; don't make it too obvious…they might be on the lookout for infiltrators…"

"Okay, Burke and Bledsoe; go!"

The SEAL and Recon Marine hustled across the blasted yard to the bunker entrance, easily blending in with the Fedayeen and members of al Sahood's unit that were tending to the wounded and recovering the dead. They took cover behind a fiercely burning UAZ Russian jeep which had ended up skidding to a stop in front of the bunker.

Mac and Kayce went in next, following the same path as Burke and Bledsoe. Dallas and Bradenton were last. The smoke and stench from the burning jeep kept anyone from investigating them too closely.

Kayce looked around. "No one's coming out of these bunkers…."

Burke was looking around at the wreckage. Some of it wasn't as damaged and that's when he saw it. "That's because everything out here was meant to be sacrificed; they are Shahid! Now it all makes sense, Colonel; Sahood considers them expendable in order to get a chance to strike at the 36th!"

Arnie couldn't believe what he was seeing. "But all this equipment-"

But Sergeant Bradenton saw it too. "Battlefield junk cobbled together just enough to look operational!"

"So where are Sahood's vehicles?" wondered Kayce. The entrance closest to them didn't look big enough to drive a vehicle into.

Mark Dallas knew. "Still underground in the garages…waiting for the strikes to be finished…."

Arnie said aloud what they were all thinking. "We gotta get in there somehow…."

Mac spotted one lone insurgent carrying a field phone. Every few steps he would stop and speak into his microphone and then start moving again. The Light Colonel could see he was headed toward what looked like a dome just to the left of their bunker.

Kayce saw him too. Before anyone could say anything, she lay down her rifle, got up and ran towards him.

The man halted as Kayce ran towards, then past him and began to beat on the bunker's sealed doors.

"Fatah! Fatah!/Open! Open!" She cried piteously as she continued hammering on the closed doors with her fists.

The insurgent ran over to her. "Girl!/Bint!" he said harshly to her.

Kayce continued beating on the doors, ignoring him.

"Fatah!" she moans, almost as if she was in agony.

The man grabbed her arm roughly, stopping her wretched calls.

"What are you doing out here, girl?' He demanded.

"I had just wanted to say goodbye to my boyfriend," Kayce began, sounding like a woman in shock as she pointed to a destroyed tank.

He took a quick glance at the wreck then turned back to her and shook her harshly. "Are you crazy? You could have been killed! How did you get in here?"

Kayce did her best to look ashamed. "I know! I know! I wasn't thinking clearly…I didn't think it would be this bad…."

The insurgent gave her a look reserved for the dumbest of animals, but an exceedingly pretty one, nevertheless. He would take pity on her. This time. "Well," he said gently steering her away from the bunker door, "Let's get you out of here before the Americans come back to finish the job…."

He took Kayce toward the dome. Pulling on the manhole cover on the culvert attached to the side of the dome, he opened it and allowed her to go in first. As he started to bend down and follow her in, he was grabbed by Al Bradenton. The big Recon Sergeant held him for a few moments while he flailed and tried to break Bradenton's iron grip. After a few more moments, the man's struggling grew weaker and then ceased altogether. Bradenton then swiftly turned his head, making certain the man would not come to and alert anyone else to their presence. He took the man's radio set and set it down by the entrance.

The Recon Sergeant then pulled the dead insurgent outside, a fair distance away from the entrance.

Others of Mac's team went into the tunnel with Corporal Bledsoe acting as rear guard.

Compared with the stifling heat outside, the bunker was cool. The interior was polished smooth concrete with overhead florescent lighting. The room they were in was seemed to double as an observation area. Off to the right was a driveway leading down further underground. The drive was illuminated every few feet by the same florescent lighting.

"The vehicles must be parked down below…." Mac stated as she motioned for the others to follow.

"It must've cost a mint to put this in here," Kayce said as she left the room and headed down the garage ramp, "Where'd they get the money and materials?"

"I'd say probably courtesy of Osama bin Laden…and Uday and Qusay probably chipped in some money as well…." Al Bradenton quipped.

Mark Dallas shot both junior enlisted troopers a cutting glare to knock off the chit-chat. Even if it was whispered, American voices in an Iraqi bunker would not be met with smiles and hugs.

Mac suddenly froze, causing the others to stop as well. The Light Colonel held her hand up to indicate they had located the enemy. Everyone behind flattened against the closest wall, as voices and vehicle noises could be heard drifting up from below.

Mac exchanged furtive glances with Mark Dallas. Dallas turned and motioned to Bradenton and Bledsoe who moved past Light Colonel.

"We'll check it out ma'am," Dallas whispered. "If we see the missiles, we'll let you know…."

Mac nodded. The three Force Recon Troopers crept down the driveway toward the brightly lit parking area. The Light Colonel watched as they disappeared around a corner.

Above them, Mac and the others could hear bombs starting to fall. That would Patrick Henry's second strike. Concrete dust sifted down from the reinforced roof as the whole ramp shook. Mac, Kayce and Ryan held their breath as dust filled the air. Down below in the garage area, all noise had ceased.

Lights flickered as the bombing continued – it reminded Mac of those old war movies where the submarine was being bombarded by depth charges. The only thing was that if the roof above them failed, instead of having tons of water rushing in, they would have tons of concrete falling on their heads. She prayed that the roof was as strong as it looked.

Soon the bombing grew fainter and fainter until it grew quiet again. Down below, the vehicle noises and talking resumed.

"How much longer do we give them Colonel?" Kayce asked urgently. She knew that they only had a small window of opportunity and it was growing smaller with each air attack that went on above them.

Staff Sergeant Dallas stuck his head back around the corner and motioned for them to join him.

As Mac and others started toward the garage, the sound of bombing could be heard growing louder and louder above their heads.

More concrete dust sifted down all around them. Again the garage grew silent as the bombing picked up in intensity.

"The missile trucks are down at the far end of the garage," Mark told the Light Colonel as best he could, given the noise above their heads. "The missiles themselves are still sitting on their trailers – they haven't been loaded onto the trucks yet…Bradenton and Bledsoe are keeping an eye on them…this way."

Mac nodded and followed as did Kayce and Ryan. The explosions sounded like they were happening right above their heads.

Apparently heavily armed militia members milling around were not unusual in the underground garage. No one said anything to them as they walked down the length of the bay past tanks and personnel carriers – operational ones – headed towards the missile trucks.

The bombing above their heads receded again. Two strikes down…next would be air attacks by planes from Reprisal. Vehicle crews began working again, making last minute adjustments to their preciously hoarded assets.

Nobody seemed to notice or care as Mac and the others made their way to where the Sergeant and Lance Corporal were watching the missile truck crews. The Light Colonel had expected by now that they would have been accosted by someone asking them 'what did they think they were doing….'

It was time to act before someone started asking questions they couldn't answer. Mac turned to her team. "Ryan; you act as our leader. Start asking them questions about where we are supposed to be. Everyone else, play dumb. Speak only if spoken to."

Ryan and the others nodded. After another moment, the Petty Officer strutted over to a gangly looking soldier wearing an ill-fitting Iraqi Army uniform. Mac and the others cast their eyes downward as Ryan turned back to them and began to berate them in Arabic for their stupidity.

The gangly soldier turned toward Ryan and the others. Sahood had gathered Arab fighters from across the Middle East, so he wasn't surprised that some of these jihadists might have bought surplus U.S. military uniforms. The Petty Officer turned on his heel and faced the soldier, demanding to know where were their vehicles? After all, *they* were supposed to *be escorting* the missile trucks once they left the compound.

The soldier looked mystified and stammered that he didn't know what Ryan was talking about. Staff Sergeant Dallas spoke up, saying he thought their vehicles were back toward the front entrance of the garage, but this only earned him a sharp rebuke from Ryan.

The soldier wasn't sure what to make of any of this; maybe he should let an officer handle this officious jerk. He got Ryan's attention. 'Wait here," he told him and went off in search of someone who could deal with him.

Now Mark Dallas took over, barking at a group of technicians who were standing next to a URAL-375V tanker truck with a red rectangle panel attached to the side of tank. Mac noted the panel had the code +OB [chemical] in Cyrillic and the same code in Arabic script.

The men, obviously suspecting that they had been caught goofing off, scattered, looking for something to do.

"Okay, we got maybe three minutes or less before someone comes back and asks us what the hell we're doing…" Dallas said as he watched the technicians scatter.

Ryan nodded and produced a canister with a sealed lid from under his Bedouin outfit.

"What's that?" Kayce asked as she divided her attention between the canister and keeping an eye out for anyone nosing around.

"Courtesy of the CIA; it was designed to make Hydrogen Cyanide inert. I need to dump it into the tanker's intake valve and then release it into the reservoir tank."

"How long will take to work?" To Mac it seemed like an awful small amount of reagent for such a large tanker truck of HCN. She hoped Clay and the CIA's whiz kids had guessed right.

Ryan punctured the seal and began pouring the reagent into the intake valve of the tanker. "Once I release it into the reservoir, it only takes a few minutes. The sloshing around caused by moving the truck takes care of the rest…"

"Well hurry up and empty it in," Mark replied, "We don't want anyone seeing you fooling around that intake valve-"

"Company's coming!" Arnie hissed urgently.

Ryan stood up. The gangly insurgent was accompanied by bearded severe looking man wearing a turban. The tall insurgent was having trouble keeping step with the quick moving insurgent leader.

"Who are you? Can't you read signs? It says 'no unauthorized personnel beyond this point'!" He barked at Ryan.

"And I was told to bring my team down here and report for escort duty!" Ryan Burke fired back with equal venom.

The bearded insurgent dismissed his rebuke. "Escort duty? You son of cow! Who told you that?"

"I did, Faheem…." Mac noted that the third man that had joined the two others was wearing a Republican Guard officer's uniform.

"Faheem looked flustered. "Ra'id [Captain] al Bazz! You did not clear this with me-!"

"I know, and I apologize Faheem," the smiling officer turned to Ryan. "You and your team should come with me…."

Mac didn't know what to make of this turn of events, but Ryan wasn't acting nervous or concerned. _Whatever Burke has up his sleeve better work…_ the Light Colonel thought as she followed Ryan. Dallas and the others followed Mac's lead.

Once they were out of earshot of Faheem, the Captain [Ra'id] seemed to relax. "I was wondering when you would get here, old friend," he said to Ryan in Arabic as they continued walking.

The Petty Officer had the faintest trace of smile on his face. "Had some trouble with some of Colonel Livingston's loyalists that had to be taken care of first, Hosan."

The Captain smiled briefly as he turned to Mac. "And you must be the JAG Corps Marine attorney that Clayton Webb told us all about. Thank you for your efforts on behalf of my countrymen and for trying to stop these madmen."

Mac didn't know what to say to him. He merely gave her another smile and turned back to the SEAL. (Just what had Clay told him?) Mac wondered.

"Time is running short, my friend," the Iraqi Captain told the SEAL. "The first strike force from Reprisal should be here soon. We need to get you and Colonel MacKenzie's team out of here before anyone begins to suspect…"

"So where are we headed?" Petty Officer Burke asked.

Hosan al Bazz opened a steel reinforced door

"Here; this protected stairwell leads up to the surface." He shook Ryan's hand as the others entered the stairwell. "Go with God."

Mac was the last to enter. She paused and stared at Hosan. She wanted to say something about his bravery, praising his sacrifice. But the words she heard in her mind sounded hollow and fake – he was facing possible death because of what he was doing, and the platitudes coming to her brain just didn't seem adequate.

Behind them, she could hear running footsteps. The Iraqi Captain quickly pushed her inside the door.

Maya-s-salama, Sari/Goodbye Sarah, He said quietly to her as if reading her mind and understanding what she wanted to say.

Mac's eyes flared in surprise. There wasn't any time left—the footsteps were getting closer. Allah yi sallim-ak, Hosan/Goodbye, Hosan. Mac replied and shut the door.

**Through the door,** the Light Colonel could faintly hear three pistol reports and muffled shouts and other voices. Ryan jerked his head back toward the door and at her; she could see he wanted to go back and help his friend.

"The Captain bought us time to get out of here, Petty Officer, let's not make it in vain..."

Ryan Burke slowly nodded. "Aye ma'am," He said reluctantly.

As they headed up the stairwell, Mac's team could hear explosions growing louder, signaling that Reprisal's first airstrike was underway.

The stairwell began to shake violently as the planes continued releasing their ordnance. Mac, Kayce and the others hugged the wall of the stairwell and prayed it wouldn't collapse on top of them.

The thunderous explosions seemed to go on forever. Mac figured at any moment an iron bomb or rocket would penetrate the stairwell wall and they'd all be dead.

Then, as before, the noise of explosions grew fainter. Mac, Ryan and the others continued their trek up the stairwell – so far no one had tried to stop them. Mac wondered if the Iraqi Captain was still alive.

When they got to the stairwell landing, Ryan tried the door. It didn't move. Ryan and Mark Dallas pushed against the door – whatever was holding it closed gave way.

**A hot acrid wind greeted them as they moved outside**. The inside the walls of the blasted fortification looked like hell on earth. The ground all around them was torn and gouged from near misses. The fortress walls were shattered in several places. Al-Sahood's decoy force was a shattered flaming ruin. Bodies and parts of bodies were everywhere.

Mac tried her best to ignore the carnage. She noted that the others were trying to do the same. They hustled to the side of the fortress to the hole where they had first entered.

They all knew that the next strike from Reprisal would start soon. Mac really doubted they would have time to get far enough away from the fortress to survive. Besides that, some of the aircraft might look for targets of opportunity instead of continuing to beat up the badly damaged fortress. Al Bradenton was first to voice what everyone else was thinking.

"There's no way we're gonna to get out of here in time, Colonel."

"Reprisal's next strike force will be here soon…" Kayce added nervously as she looked at her watch.

"We'd probably be better off on the stairwell landing," Arnie Bledsoe observed morosely.

"Or we could just hop a ride with them, Lance Corporal." Staff Sergeant Dallas said pointing to a distant speck that was growing by the moment.

It was Hatchet 07 – someone…Captain al Bazz? Had told them that Mac's team would need a fast evac.

"Let's get back to that hillock," Mac ordered, "We're probably gonna take another bungee cord ride."

Mac and her team reached the hillock just as Hatchet 07 began lowering its SPIES rope.

**Eagle squadron was airborne** and winging its way back towards Mirbullah.

Instead of the cluster and laser guided bombs that were given to them on Patrick Henry, the ground crew at Talil Air Base gave them the only munitions that they had on hand – iron bombs and napalm.

Harm wasn't a big fan of napalm, but he knew sometimes you had to 'play with the hand dealt to you.'

The attorney/aviator listened to the radio traffic as strike groups from Reprisal and Seahawk pounded Objective India. He wondered for the briefest of moments if Mac was safe. He hadn't felt any indications that she was in danger or that she was in pain. In fact, he hadn't felt anything. What worried him most about these, 'psychic impressions' as Mac had reluctantly called them, was that he couldn't even tell if he was interpreting them correctly or not. It could be that 'feeling' nothing meant she was fine (…or it could mean just the opposite). He quickly pushed that unpleasant idea from his mind.

As he looked down, he could see they were passing over Mirbullah and in a few moments would be passing over where Colonel Baxter and the 36th MEU had been stalled earlier this morning. After that, it wouldn't be long before they would be over Objective India again.

"Pie Tin to Eagle Two One, Pie Tin to Eagle Two One, do you copy?"

Harm wondered what news they had. "Pie Tin, this is Eagle Two One, I copy."

"Eagle; be advised…Big Bird strike has been delayed by squalls over Diego Garcia…."

Harm looked in his mirror at his Radar Intercept Officer. Pete 'Clyde' Gibbons looked just as concerned as he felt. The Big Bird strike, meaning the B-52 and B-1 strikes that Captain Ingles had told them would deliver the coup de grace to Objective India, were going to be late. Which meant someone was going to have to harass the insurgents until the bombers arrived. And since everyone else was on their way safely back to their carriers, that meant Eagle squadron (by default) would have to keep hounding al-Sahood's men until they arrived.

"By how much, Pie Tin?" The aviator/lawyer asked.

"They are at least 30 minutes behind you, Eagle."

Harm did some quick mental calculations in his head. With the rate of fuel burn and number of passes needed to drop all of their new ordnance, plus the distance back to Patrick Henry – they'd have just enough to get back.

He hoped Mac was having better luck than they were having. "Copy Pie Tin…Eagle acknowledges."

"Good luck Eagle…Pie Tin out."

**"Is CPO Davis certain they are here, Commander?" Gunny asked.**

'Rat Patrol' CO Brad May nodded. "Davis and Petty Officer Broadland have been keeping tabs on Livingston since she had Pelican Three shot down…."

Petty Officer Vickers slowed to a stop. Master Chief Petty Officer Coskill leaned down from his M2-HB mount into the HMMWV cab. "They're loaded for bear, Commander. I count at least two GAZ gun trucks around those buildings…."

Brad grunted. "We'll have to take out those gun trucks first…."

**Having left Corporal Raden,** Lance Corporal Pogue and Corporal Day with Sergeant Canella and his men, the two NCIS Agents made their way overland towards Objective India.

"I still don't see why we couldn't ride with Colonel Baranova, Gibbs…." Tony said. Playing soldier was not exactly his idea of fun.

The senior NCIS Agent smiled to himself. He knew exactly why Tony wanted to ride with the Polish Colonel and it didn't have anything to do with being tired. "Pulkownik Baranova is our diversion, Tony. We're going after al-Sahood."

"You're the big bad sniper, Boss, you could take out Sahood with one shot; what do you need me for?"

Gibbs tried to ignore the whining tone in Tony's voice. Tony DiNozzo had been his right hand man since 2001. It hadn't been easy slipping into Mike Franks' shoes, but Tony had made the job a little easier for the senior NCIS Agent. For that reason alone, Gibbs was willing to let the former Baltimore police detective get away with more then he would have let others get away with.

Gibbs turned to his senior field agent. "Because we're going to take al-Sahood and Hamid al-Harib alive, DiNozzo…."

**Mac looked down below and could see** they were fast approaching a group of farm buildings where a heated fire fight was taking place. There were two GAZ-66 gun trucks whose heavy machine guns could have been fatal to Hatchet 07, but both of their crews were prone on the trucks' beds. Obviously, they had been killed before they could bring their heavy weapons to bear.

She could see that Gunny's and Commander May's Marines and Sailors were exchanging fire with Colonel Livingston's troops.

All of the noise of the battle was lost to the thumping rotors of the PaveLow, until the rattle of the big helo's machine guns signaled that they had entered the fight.

**Gunny Galindez looked up** and saw Captain Casey's MH-53M helo approaching with the Colonel and her team still suspended from their SPIES rope. The Special Operations helo had all of its guns blazing away at the one of the abandoned farm houses where Darcy Livingston's men had managed to get one of the dismounted heavy machine guns from the pickup trucks into action.

The other three trucks were burning wrecks along with a couple of insurgent jeeps. That only left them with two pickup trucks as getaway vehicles. And with the volume of fire they were pouring into those houses, they weren't leaving anytime soon.

"Sustained grazing and harassing fire! Keep them from taking pot shots at the Colonel and her team!" Gunny told the others.

The Recon Marines of Shark Two and remnants of Shark Three renewed their efforts to stop the members of Shark One before they could hurt Colonel MacKenzie or bring down Hatchet 07.

Despite the volume of fire directed at Livingston's men, a few of Darcy's Recon soldiers still managed to fire at the big helo.

Don Casey didn't like hearing bullets whack and ping off the sides of his heavily armored machine. He knew that if they were taking fire that meant that JAG Corps Colonel and her team hanging onto their SPIES rope, like sausage links tied with string, were also dodging bullets.

He swung the MH-53M helicopter away from the firefight.

Brad May watched as the Special Operations bird retreated. He didn't blame the pilot. MacKenzie and her team were sitting ducks as long as they were suspended in the air like that.

"Commander! I've got a pickup truck at our five o'clock, moving in fast!"

Gunny turned his head toward this newly announced threat and saw several familiar faces. "It's Staff Sergeant Corbin and his team!"

"Hot damn!" Whooped Logan, "The gang's all here!"

"Don't lose your head, Logan!" Casmir Szymas warned, "This battle's far from won!"

**Hatchet 07 lowered Mac and her team** to the ground a safe distance away from the firefight. It only took them moments to get unhooked and away from the hovering machine.

"Flanking fire!" Mac shouted to her Recon Marines as they swept around to the left of the buildings. "Continue with oblique fire when we get as close as we can!"

As the Light Colonel's team tried to flank the buildings, Sergeant Williams, Sergeant Dahl and Corporal Burges used their pickup trucks' machine guns to lay down additional suppressive fire on Colonel Livingston's positions. Eddie Willet pulled up beside them, climbed into the back of his truck and added his machine gun to the heavy weapons that were chewing up the walls of the buildings.

To the right of Sergeant Williams' pickup trucks, Commander May and the SEAL Team 'Rat Patrol' along with Gunny Galindez' team and the defectors from Shark Three continued their attack on the buildings.

"We're not making any headway, Master- I mean, Gunny!" Joe Corbin yelled as he joined Victor and Commander May in their dug-in positions in front of the farm buildings.

Victor nodded. Darcy had at least twenty two dedicated soldiers at her disposal and that didn't include the platoon of Fedayeen Saddam leavened with squads of insurgents from al-Sahood's terrorist cell. Even with addition of 'Rat Patrol' it was too much for them to overcome.

Gunny squawked his radio. "Sierra Six Mike Actual this is Sierra One!"

"Go Sierra One!"

"Recommend rocket attack, Actual!"

Normally Mac would have delayed, trying to find an alternative. But if combat had taught her anything, it was that sometimes there were no alternatives – especially with time running out.

There was no hesitation in her voice. "Understood Sierra One, Fire at will!"

**Objective India**

Thick smoke from obliterated armored vehicles covered the entire fortress. The only sounds other than the detonation of another fuel tank or the pop, pop, pop of 'cooking off' ammunition was the roar of Seahawk's last squadron as they headed back to their carrier.

Then one of the bunker's blast doors began to move. Slowly at first, then it opened wider and wider. The throaty roar of armored vehicle engines echoed from deep within the bunker. Slowly, one by one, they began to emerge into the smoky daylight like beasts from hell.

The first vehicle to emerge, a Romanian built TR-77 tank, growled loudly as it's V-12 water cooled diesel engine belched out a large bluish oily cloud of exhaust into the hot smoggy air. Almost in unison, the other combat vehicles in the IBDP roared to life and began to surge upward and forward out of another bunker which had just opened its doors.

Behind the undamaged tanks and OT-64 personnel carriers, two sand colored armed ZIL-135L4 rocket trucks rumbled out of the bunker, followed by two MAZ-543P 9M117M1 Transporter Erector Launchers [TELs].

Aboard each of these MAZ trucks was a single SS-1C R-17E tactical missile loaded with al-Sahood's Hydrogen Cyanide [HCN]. The cross country monsters were followed by five URAL-375 6x6 trucks fitted with box-like containers. These smaller trucks were the 'eyes and ears' of the rocket trucks, feeding them meteorological and navigational data crucial to making sure Sahood's missiles and rockets would land on target.

Behind the URAL trucks, were a brace of UAZ-469 jeeps and a Land Rover. Ra'id al-Bazz sat in the back seat of the Land Rover. Akmed Faheem turned and smiled at the Republican Guard Captain. "It is a glorious day, isn't it, Captain?"

Hosan al-Bazz nodded. "A glorious day, Faheem, a glorious one indeed."

**"Take Cover!" yelled Sergeant Williams.** Sergeant Dahl jumped clear of the bed of his pickup truck just as four M-202 rockets buried themselves in the truck's engine and detonated, ripping the truck to pieces. Sal looked to his right. Don Burges' truck was belching flames. Thankfully they hadn't lost anyone but they were down to two trucks. Commander May was more fortunate. He had backed his vehicles away just in time as four more rockets tore up the sand and ground where they had just been.

It had been a classic preemptive strike and had scored, but Gunny wasn't about give up yet. "All Flash teams fire at will!" he ordered.

"On the way!" was the answer from Shark Two and Shark Three's rocket teams.

The house closest to Mac erupted into flames as four rockets slammed into the stone structure.

One of the two Fedayeen pickup trucks blew apart as the second group of rockets slammed into it.

That left Darcy's men with one pickup truck. Darcy could still get away if she wanted to, but the majority of her men would have to break out on foot if they wanted to escape.

Mac was buoyed by what she saw. They might yet have a chance to stop Darcy. "Flash teams! Aim for the second truck!"

But the teams didn't have good news. "We're Winchester 66mm rounds, ma'am!" reported Lance Corporal Crockett.

The Light Colonel silently cursed their luck. To get so close to stopping Darcy Livingston and run of rockets. Well, they still had Shark Three's Flash team-

"Same here, Colonel; Winchester 66mm rounds!"

**-TBC…**


	82. Chapter 81

**…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 81**

The last vehicles to leave the bunkers were three ZRK-BD 9K31 Strela-1 or 'Arrow-1' mobile surface to air missile [SAM] trucks.

Unlike the ones hunted down by Shark One (and unknown to Darcy) these BRDM mounted missiles were fully operational. Sahood had always counted on Dahab to whittle his armored force down to more 'manageable proportions'.

The three SA-9 Gaskins (as they were referred to by NATO) would be more than enough to protect his small armored unit.

**Kayce had grabbed for her Barrett rifle** as soon as she heard Crockett's report. She quickly aimed for the remaining pickup truck's engine block. A loud ptang! indicated the 50 caliber round had penetrated the grill of the Toyota pickup, holed the radiator and did extensive damage to the engine.

Gasoline, oil, and water gushed from the ruined engine.

The battleground fell strangely quiet except for the burbling noises coming from the Toyota's destroyed engine and the crackling fires of the wrecked vehicles.

Mac switched to Shark One's frequency and spoke into her radio mike. "Colonel Livingston! This is Colonel MacKenzie, JAG Corps! You and your men are to stand down!"

Mac looked over at Gunny and Commander May who had brought his SEALS closer on foot. She could see Rat Patrol's vehicles were sitting just beyond the range of the M-202 rocket launcher in a semi ring around the battered farmhouses.

Nothing moved. Seconds ticked by.

**"See anything moving?"** Corporal Hernando Gonzalez asked as he looked for signs of movement around the three houses.

"Nothing," Sergeant Cienfuentes replied as he kept his sniper rifle trained on closest of the three battle-scarred farm houses.

As he re-focused his rifle sights on the closest house, Pedro Cienfuentes caught some movement on the periphery of his vision. He looked up on a hill behind the building.

**Enrico Gonsalves, Mick Aronson, and Jacques Lewis** had managed to leave their position in the farmhouse and were now carefully making their way up the steep slope behind the buildings.

They had left Darcy and seven of her compatriots along with half dozen of Sahood's men to keep Colonel MacKenzie's Force Recon Marines and Commander May's SEALS at bay.

Jac smiled to himself. Since he had first met this snooping skirt, he had wanted to kill her. But first, he wanted to have some fun. First make her scared; he loved it when his victims panicked and tried to flee...it made the kill all the more…exciting.

He had told Sergeant Gonsalves before they headed out to only wing MacKenzie. Jac wanted to savor her fear and panic at being hunted.

**"Look! Up on that hill!"** Gonzalez whispered urgently afraid that pointing would betray what they could see. "He's going to kill Colonel MacKenzie!"

Pedro saw Enrico Gonsalves aiming his assault rifle at the Colonel. "Not if I can help it!" growled the Sergeant as put down his 50 caliber weapon and grabbed his M-40A3 rifle. He lined up Gonsalves in his sights and fired.

The crack of the rifle drifted across the battlefield. On the hill Enrico Gonsalves slumped, his rifle tumbling down the hill.

**Seeing Sergeant Gonsalves lying there** was enough for Mick Aronson. He threw down his rifle and stood up, waving his hands.

"Don't shoot! Don't-!"

A pistol retort ended Corporal Aronson's frantic call. As he pitched face forward and began rolling down the hill, Jacques Lewis holstered his pistol.

"Dumb jerk," he muttered as Aronson's rolling body headed toward the bottom.

**Maqaddam [Colonel] Fisal Murtagui** **felt** a strange sense of pride as he watched his 'unit' prepare itself for its attack on the American Marine unit. It wouldn't be long now before the SCUD missiles could be launched.

**"Cover me!" Mac yelled** as she headed for the front door of the closest farm house. Kayce was close behind her.

At the same time Victor mimicked her actions heading for the second closest building and Commander May's SEALS stormed the third building.

The door to the farmhouse had partially opened. The Light Colonel raised her rifle and fired, sending a dead insurgent tumbling out the door. Mac continued firing short bursts as she entered the building.

The front room had three bodies in it, but no one else. Kayce was about to say something when Mac opened fire again, catching two of al-Sahood's men as they had tried to rush her and Kayce.

Kayce Danvers turned to her right and fired off a burst at a black clad Fedayeen soldier who stumbled to the floor.

Mac fired at a second insurgent who appeared just behind the Fedayeen soldier Kayce had shot.

"Colonel! To your left!" Kayce barked as she turned her weapon toward the new threat.

The insurgent's first round glanced off Mac's rifle causing her to drop it. Mac felt the explosion made by the round's shrapnel as it impacted her rifle. The jagged fragments peppered her right hand.

Kayce aimed for the insurgent's center of mass and fired. He dropped, his weapon clattering on the floor.

The Light Colonel looked dumbly down at her bloody hand. Then Kayce grabbed her, yelling for a Corpsman.

**Victor, Sergeant Corbin, Evan Mickens, Casmir Szymas and Vicky Logan had** cornered four of Darcy's men in the courtyard in back of the houses.

"Drop your weapons!" Gunny demanded of the traitors.

"We don't need them to take care of you!" Lieutenant Wes Baggett snarled as he dropped his pistol and rushed the Gunnery Sergeant.

"Try to take them alive!" Victor ordered as he executed an elbow strike on the Lieutenant.

"You heard the Gunny!" Joe Corbin shouted as he front kicked Corporal Phillips, sending him flailing backwards into the courtyard wall.

Sergeant Szymas followed suit with a roundhouse knee strike to Darcy's driver, Lieutenant Peterson.

And Lance Corporal Logan delivered a roundhouse side kick to Sergeant Ramage dropping him to the ground.

Evan Mickens grappled with one of the pickup drivers, Lieutenant Sadowski, who had just joined the brawl. Evan delivered a reverse head butt to the Lieutenant staggering him while Vicky grabbed him and threw the unfortunate Lieutenant over her shoulder, sending him crashing to the ground.

**Corporal Kingsley and Lieutenant Ricketts raised** their hands in surrender when they saw their leader, Darcy D'Acerville Livingston, on the ground, bleeding. Commander May and Master Chief Petty Officer Coskill watched as Petty Officer Vickers and Chief Petty Officer Davis secured their wrists and feet with plasti-cuffs.

Petty Officer Coskill was still shaking his head. "She didn't give me any other options, Commander… she was going to kill Petty Officer Vickers…."

Brad May knew that shooting a Marine, especially a female, would weigh heavily on Coskill's mind for a while. "It's okay, Master Chief; you did the right thing…."

It was funny, but Ricketts, as he was being lead out of the building, could have sworn- that the once intimidating Lieutenant Colonel Darcy Livingston looked fragile and small as the Corpsman began attending to her.

**Petty Officer Gifford gently** bandaged Mac's bloody hand.

"You're lucky Colonel; those were just bullet fragments…no ligament or bone damage as far as I can tell…. "

Petty Officers Sharpe and Unger set the stretcher with a pallid looking Darcy Livingston down.

Petty Officer Sharpe walked over to Mac and Gifford. "Begging your pardon, ma'am. She wanted to speak with you," Sharpe, looked back over his shoulder at Darcy Livingston. Mac could tell he was reluctant to grant Colonel Livingston's request.

"It's all right Petty Officer, I'll talk to her."

The Light Colonel walked over to the stretcher and leaned over the former CO of 2nd Force Recon.

Darcy shook her head and chuckled. "Too bad, Colonel…. You could've had it all…. A promotion…a high profile job…but it's all gone now…."

Mac couldn't believe what she was hearing. Either Darcy was delirious or she had lost her mind.

"Colonel, you were working with al Qaeda leader Samir al-Sahood…you killed many innocent people and you were planning to wipe out a Marine Expeditionary Unit with poison gas…."

But Darcy Livingston was past being concerned about that. "All…Jac's fault…that stupid SOB was afraid of you…. If he had…just listened to me…all this wouldn't have happened…."

"All his…fault. All…his…fault…even damaged your MOPP suit…." Darcy's breathing was becoming more shallow by the moment.

"Captain Lewis didn't get the chance to damage my suit. I caught one of Sahood's men trying to damage it."

Darcy's eyes focused on hers. Strength seemed to surge back into her body. "What do you mean?"

"Sahood had sent him to damage all the suits. He was going to kill all of your men and you, Colonel. He intended for all of you to die."

Darcy stared off into space. After a few moments she nodded with conviction. "Samir was trying to spare me…." She said quietly, and then lapsed into silence.

Mac wanted to ask her what she meant, but the roar of incoming jet aircraft in the distance took precedence.

"Colonel! We have gu11's coming in from the south!" Kayce announced to Mac.

Obviously this was Kayce-speak for inbound naval planes.

**The three Gaskins spread out** in a triangular formation within the battered battalion defensive position. Their weary GAZ-41 water cooled engines shuddered to a stop as they took up their positions. They would defend the SCUDs to their last missile.

**"Eagle 22 to Eagle 21…**Hammer, isn't Mac's recon team supposed to be down there somewhere ahead?"

Harm looked out in front windscreen and could see they were fast approaching a group of burning vehicles.

Without even being able to see her, Harm could feel her down there. Mac was there and she was alive. "Yeah, Nicole, it is."

**Mac looked up** at the approaching aircraft.

"It's him…"

Despite her ability to lead, sometimes this Light Colonel still gave her the willies. "Ma'am, how do you know? The Navy could have benched his squadron and sent another to finish the mission-"

"I just do Kayce; I always have. Get Flemming over here, pronto…"

"All right ma'am, just don't tell me it's some kind of cosmic connection, okay?"

Mac gave her a quick cutting look. "Right…"

In moments, Oscar Flemming came back with her and gave Mac control of his radio. Shark Three's forward observer, Lieutenant Matt Fulmer, was at the top of the hill with a laser designator.

"Tell your 'hubbie' to stay away from the duckhunters, ma'am," Kayce said in jest to Mac as she waited to hear from Harm. Mac smirked at her comment.

The aviator/lawyer's voice came sharp and clear over the radio.

"Sierra Mike Six, Sierra Mike Six, this is Eagle 21, misno one one; fourteen fox bravos; fourteen fox fourteen delta, Northeast grid 39 Angels 3 and sliding. Time on station 1257 Bravo…Abort code delta bravo…Continue? Over…"

"Eagle 21 this is Sierra Six Mike Actual. I have visual. Laser on tangos. Sparkle on Tangos. You are cleared hot…Over…."

"Copy Sierra Six Mike, we are cleared hot…Eagle 21 out…"

As the Tomcats of VF-218 roared overhead, Darcy began to laugh. "Looks like I get a lagniappe after all, Cher…."

Kayce looked down the hysterically laughing Colonel with a mixture of anger and confusion. She had all she could stand of this vile witch. "What are you talking about?"

"Colonel!" It was Lieutenant Fulmer shouting into his radio mike. "You need to get up here now!

**Harm could see** the MAZ and ZIL trucks were ready to launch their weapons. It would be just like last time.

"Tally Ho! I've got a SCUD TEL ready to launch – 10 o'clock low!"

"In your back pocket, Hammer…" Supergirl reported

"Eagle 21 is in…"

**The three venerable Gaskins turned on their passive radar detection systems** and began searching for any incoming American aircraft. As soon as they started searching, one of the systems shorted out, then a second one.

Ra'is (Sergeant) Mudullah aboard the third SA-9 prayed that his targeting radar stayed on line long enough for them to get a shot at the approaching American aircraft.

**Harm's Tomcat slowed** as the aviator lawyer lined up his first target.

**Ra'is Mudullah's crew** of the SA-9 mobile SAM vehicle tracked Eagle 21.

**A warning tone reverberated** through the Tomcat's cockpit, breaking Harm's concentration.

"Commander, we've got radar trying to lock onto us!" barked Pete.

"Hang on Pete, I'm dumping chaff…"

A spray of pyrotechnics burst from the plane as she winged her way toward her target. But it was too little, too late. The BDRM's SAM launcher tracked the American plane as the unit's radar sounded the lock tone.

Pete heard the same tone. "It's not working Hammer, they've got a lock!"

**The Gaskin's box launcher glowed as four 9M31 missiles** roared out into the sky, in staggered sequence, tracking the Tomcat.

**The tone of the threat** warning indicator changed.

"Missiles inbound!" Screamed his RIO.

Harm engaged his afterburners and put the Tomcat into a punishing corkscrew. These maneuvers combined with the drifting flares caused three of the missiles to zero in on the brightly burning flares and detonate. The fourth missile, however, had locked onto Eagle 21's exhaust.

"The missile's turning, she blowtorching her way toward our tailpipe!"

Harm tried every maneuver that he could think of, but it was as if an invisible string was tied from the Eagle 21 to the Strela-1 missile. And the distance between the two was rapidly being eaten up.

"We're not going to outrun it! Brace for impact!"

Impact though, for the 9M31 missile, was not necessary for a kill; all it had to do was get close enough for its shrapnel to reach the delicate aircraft and she would also go down. As Harm and Pete braced for the missile smacking into the tail of Harm's plane, they felt a push from behind as the missile, having reached its desired proximity, detonated.

**Mac, who had just reached** the top of the hill, watched in horrified fascination as the tail and back of Harm's Tomcat was peppered with shrapnel just like her dream had predicted.

"No! Oh God, please, no, no, no!"

**The cockpit filled with tiny angry buzzing** pieces of metal. Both men alternately grunted and screamed as errant pieces of the SAM missile ripped into them. "Ah Shit!" barked Harm angrily as the plane began to buck violently, warning lights all over his HUD display began flashing.

Pete, trying to staunch the blood dribbling from penny sized wounds in his arm dully looked around and saw the cracks and pinprick holes in the Plexiglas. His foggy mind also noted the holes in the metal skin of Eagle 21. Smoke was pouring from those wounds.

**Nicole nosed Eagle 22 over** and headed toward Hammer. "How bad is it?" asked her RIO, Jeff 'Pitcher' Rodriguez.

Nicole watched as it quickly became evident just how successful the SAM had been. "Hammer took a glancing blow from a SAM!"

**White smoke began to fill the cockpit**. Both men grabbed their masks but quickly realized their hoses had been holed. They both involuntarily inhaled, taking in the foul air. Both began coughing violently Harm keyed his mike. "Eagle...21 to…Eagle 22…"

"Hammer! This is Supergirl! Go!"

"Supergirl… how… how bad is it?"

She swallowed hard looking at the damage "How does she feel?"

"…handling… like a brick on ice…acts… as if…wants to… roll over… and die—"

"Harm, are you and Pete okay?"

"Both…both of us took shrapnel …from the missile…cockpit…filling with smoke…" Harm's voice sounded lazy, as if he wanted to sleep.

"Can you hold her together until we get back to _Patrick Henry_?"

"No can do… Supergirl, she's… bucking… so hard right now…afraid… she'll break up …before we… could get there…."

"We'll stay with you Hammer. Get out of there as soon as you can!" She broke contact for a moment as she fought to keep the tears from overwhelming her eyes. She didn't want to think about what the inside of that cockpit looked like. She keyed her mike again.

"Good luck Harm, Out"

"Thanks… Nicole, …Hammer…. Out."

The white smoke drifted in front of Harm's eyes making it difficult to see. He

fumbled with the radio controls until he was back on the fleet net.

"Pie Tin…Pie Tin… this is… Eagle 21…I'm…declaring an… emergency…"

"Eagle 21 this is Pie Tin what is the nature of your emergency?" Came back the

radio operator's voice "What is your situation? Over."

"We've taken… a missile hit… just north of Mirbullah… coordinates are… latitude 2301 …longitude 4507"

The CAG immediately came on the radio. "How bad is it Harm?"

"I'm losing hydraulics…tail controls are… sluggish. Engine one… is…misfiring…

shutting…down one…now."

Harm swore softly under his breath, "No…no change… in attitude or… altitude control… Pie Tin.…"

"Eagle 21, can you make it back?"

"Negative…"Harm began coughing again "… Negative…losing… altitude fast…Mayday… mayday… we're… going… down…."

Harm laid his head on the back of his damaged seat. He closed his eyes for a moment, but the buzzing of the CAG's voice in his headset jogged him back to semi-consciousness.

"Eagle 21! You are ordered to eject! Eject now Hammer! HAMMER! Do you read me? You are to EJECT NOW! HARM! EJECT! EJECT! EJECT!"

Harm turned off the radio. He didn't want to be badgered right now. He had to concentrate on getting themselves out of this wreck and that was going to take all the energy he had left to focus on this task.

"Pete…"

Harm turned his head…the pain caused was excruciating, but he had to see if his RIO was still with him. Thoughts of Mace floated through his mind. He called out louder.

"Pete…Pete…!"

"Still…uhhh… with you…Hammer…."

"Ready… to punch out… on my command…." Then Mac's words came racing back to him.

He licked his lips, forcing himself to remain awake despite the overwhelming urge to just close his eyes and sleep "….Pete…Pete… check… your seat… make sure nothing's… damaged…."

"Check…Hammer…" Pete, coughing violently, slowly, painfully began to look around.

"Are you… ready…?"

"No Harm…no… damage to my… seat…."

His mind spun, the pain from his wounds making it difficult to concentrate "…Bad…?"

"…Visible…but…can't tell… what it's… done… to…ejection… system-"

"Fire it… manually… Pete…ready…?"

"Three… two… one… eject…eject..."

Pete hit their manual override ejection buttons sending the canopy sailing up and back over the craft through the hot afternoon air. This was followed by Harm and Pete's seats jetting skyward out of the doomed Tomcat. Their initial descents were textbook perfect, but the SAM shrapnel had shredded several of their restraints. Harm never felt the shattering of his left arm and Pete was unconscious when his right leg bone was splintered.

They sailed out of the smoky cockpit into the bright afternoon sun.

**Mac gazed in horror at the unreal scene** as her dream replayed in reality. Both men, on wildly different trajectories, sailed up and back away from the burning plane, but not before it disintegrated into a glowing fireball which sent debris hurtling toward the two men.

Just like her premonition, the debris did not reach them, but she could see they were injured. Both hung limply from their chutes.

The burning shattered remains of the F-14D arced downward and augured into the damaged Gaskin missile launching vehicle. The resulting explosion obliterated both vehicles, sending an ominous fireball into the afternoon sky.

**-TBC…**


	83. Chapter 82

**…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 82**

**Over Objective India**

Nicole almost didn't hear Rhino as she numbly watched what was left of Harm's Tomcat plow into and destroy the Gaskin SAM launcher. "Eagle 31 to Eagle 22, I say again…did Hammer and Clyde make it out okay?"

"I can see two chutes," she finally responded, as she focused on the two parachutes drifting toward the earth. "But I can't tell if they look hurt 31…."

Rhino knew that Nicole had become attached to their temporary squadron commander. Truth was, they all had.

"Stay with them 22," Joseph 'Rhino' Wayne said tersely, "I'll lead the rest of the squadron back over our target…." Without waiting for her to respond, Rhino switched to the squadron net as he threw his 'Cat into an Immelmann turn.

"Eagle 31 to Eagle squadron; follow my lead…we're going plowing!"

Flying Cloud voiced what they all felt. "Eagle 32 to 31; we're on your six, 31." One by one, each F-14D Tomcat executed the exact same maneuver and headed back towards the battered battalion defensive position.

**On the ground, Sahood's combat team** stopped their vehicles and rejoiced as they watched Hammer's damaged F-14 fighter bomber spiral downwards. Many of the armored vehicle crews jumped down out of their tanks raising their fists into the air.

"Kerim Allah!"

"Allah Akbar!"

Even the normally sour Faheem was getting into the spirit of the moment. "God willing!/In-sa allah! Now we will destroy those American Marines!"

Hosan al Bazz observed al Sahood's men and these 'festivities' with detached coolness while he pretended he was enjoying 'the kill' as much as they were. But as he faked his smile, Hosan knew this 'victory' would be short lived. They had only shot down one American plane. There were thirteen others still airborne, each carrying a full load of ordnance.

"Yes, Faheem," he said dryly. "God willing…"

It was time to get out of here. Hosan set his transmitter on the floor board of the Land Rover.

"Faheem," he said leaning close to the older turbaned man, "I hate to be the wet blanket, but we need to get the crews back in their vehicles and move the missile trucks into their launch positions…"

Faheem nodded, realizing that these premature victory dances were simply wasting time. "Yes, yes, you are right, Captain…"

"I'll get out and get them back to their vehicles," Hosan offered generously as he opened his passenger side door and waded into the crowd of celebrating soldiers.

"Gih! Gih!"

"Yalla! yalla!"

It was difficult, but Ra'id al Bazz seemed to be making some headway with the vehicle crews and they were slowly, reluctantly conceding there was more work to be done before the real celebrations could begin.

But some were less disciplined than others and were not moving back to their tanks and personnel carriers. Hosan saw his opportunity and strode over to one particularly boisterous group.

"Here!/Ahu! Here!/Ahu!"

"How are you, sir?/Izzay hadrit-ak?" One of the younger men in the group asked happily.

"Stop your celebrating! We still have many things to do!/yand-ina lissa wara-na miswar tawil!"

Hosan knew that these inexperienced Fedayeen volunteers would not end their celebrating easily, in fact, that's what he was counting on. When they started to question why he was singling them out, he barked at them hoping it would provoke the appropriate response.

"Don't speak!/Ma-t-kallim-s!"

It did; their toothy grins disappeared, replaced by angry looks. Hosan moved into their personal space and that was all that it took…

A brawl suddenly erupted. No one could tell who had thrown the first punch. It didn't matter, the fight had the desired effect. All vehicles near the confrontation emptied as their crews quickly chose sides.

"Oh Lord!/Ayuzu billah!" Faheem said as he climbed from the Range Rover. "Stop this you unprincipled savages!"

He waded into the brawling group.

"Where is Captain al-Bazz?/Ra'id al-Bazz fen?" Faheem demanded of the young insurgents. Before they could answer a shouted warning floated across the group.

"Wait!/Istanna!"

"What's the matter?/Fi-h eh?" Faheem said turning toward the sound of the voice

"American Planes!/ Amrik-ani Tayyar-at!"

"Americans/Amrikan!"

The group dissolved into pandemonium as crews scrambled back to their vehicles. Anti-aircraft machine guns stuttered to life haphazardly throughout the group.

Go!/Rah! Go!/Rah! Faheem said with his hand firmly planted on his driver's back, shoving him amidst the stampede of men headed back towards their vehicles.

**Don slammed on the brakes,** skidding to a stop on the sandy road. All eyes in the pickup were on the F-14D crew.

"Oh God…Harm! No!" Mac watched as her worst nightmare unfolded in front of her eyes as the Tomcat fighter jet pilot and his RIO hung limply from their chutes – it was apparent that both men were unconscious and most likely had been injured during their ejection from their doomed plane.

Without saying anything to Kayce or the others, Mac began sprinting towards Harm's rapidly descending parachute. Her sprinting turned to running as Harm's chute began to descend more rapidly.

She felt as if she was in one of those waking nightmares as she struggled through the soft sand toward Harm's still airborne chute.

"Dammit Harm!" She cried out hoarsely, "Don't do this to me!"

The scene that had haunted her dreams for so long was now playing itself out before her. Mac quickened her pace as she pushed herself to run faster as she struggled up the sandy hill where Harm's parachute was headed.

As she reached the crest of the hill, she saw and heard the sickening thud as Harmon Rabb, Jr's unconscious form rolled on the sandy ground, rolling a few feet and becoming entangled in the lines. Mac could see he wasn't moving as the billowing chute was tugged by a desert breeze.

"Damn you Flyboy! Stop playing around and get up!" She yelled as she ran to his silent form.

Following just behind her were Mark Dallas, Lucas Calapango, and Kayce Danvers.

"Harmon Rabb, Jr. this is no time to joke around…" she ground out trying to hold back her tears. Harm couldn't do this to her…not now.

The Naval Commander was ominously quiet. Fear leapt in her as her throat tightened. "Come on, Squid, *stop* playing around." (Please God, don't take him from me. Not now…). She repeated it like a mantra as she moved closer.

Following swiftly behind Kayce were Sergeant Bradenton, and Lance Corporal Bledsoe. They stopped when they saw Mac running to the downed flier. Kayce exchanged a quick glance with the Staff Sergeant. Without saying a word, the Staff Sergeant and Lance Corporal Calapango headed for the other unconscious flier who had smacked into the ground moments after Harm.

Mac ran over to Harm's silent form – his back was to her, but at least she could see there weren't any pools of blood, and no visible signs of grotesque injuries.

"Harm?" She said timidly as she gingerly touched the Commander. Kayce began to spill the air out of Harm's chute and carefully untangle his parachutes lines while Staff Sergeant Dallas and Lance Corporal Calapango did the same to Pete Gibbon's parachute.

Mac ignored the world around her, focusing solely on Harm. She didn't hear the Sergeant calling for a Med-Evac or the other members of her team who were just arriving, forming a defensive perimeter around the two silent airmen.

Sitting on her knees beside him, the Light Colonel carefully probed along his neckline for any sign of injury, then taking a deep breath, she moved around to where she could see his face.

This time, unlike in her visions and dreams, sightless eyes were not staring back at her – Mac felt a trickle of relief shoot through her body, but she wasn't celebrating yet. He was still unconscious. Now she had to see just how badly he had been hurt.

She continued probing and found that his arm was definitely broken. The skin had not been penetrated, but it was still a serious injury. There was evidence his leg was injured as well. Mac could also see that his ankle was black and blue-probably injured when he ejected.

"C'mon Flyboy," she said bravely. "Cut the act; we both know you're not that badly hurt…."

Still no response. Her voice grew a little more strident. "C'mon Harm, you've been through worse than this, remember the crash in the Chaco Boreal?" In the distance the tell-tale thump of an approaching helo's rotors could be heard.

Mac felt a finger of panic worming into her. Help was coming, but was it too late?

"Harmon Rabb, don't you dare do this to me! Not after all we've just been through! Commander! Wake up!"

The pilot of Eagle 21 still did not respond. Mac felt tears welling in her eyes. "Harm, please wake up…." She pleaded.

Kayce, Mark and the others stood silently in the background.

The whup, whup, whup, of the approaching helo was growing louder.

It had only taken a few minutes from the terse call, but to Al Bradenton it seemed like hours since he had made that call to the 36th MEU's Battalion Aid Station. In response to the call, a lone UH-60 medical evacuation helo thundered into view, settling down a safe distance from the two downed airmen.

The helo's side door opened and three female corpsmen jumped out and quickly sprinted toward the Force Recon men surrounding the two unmoving airmen.

Al approached and informed them of the current situation. "Tomcat crew, they ejected from a damaged plane, we're pretty sure their ejection seats malfunctioned-"

The older of the two corpsmen was no nonsense. "Any visible injuries?" She said as she pushed her way past him.

"Uh, the guy over there has a broken leg. The other one's being attended to by my superior, Colonel MacKenzie-"

Chief Petty Officer Rachel Brie mentally cataloged the information and made her way over to Colonel who was sitting on her knees next to the silent airman. She motioned to her junior corpsmen to see to the pilot's Radar Intercept Officer.

"Colonel, I'm-"

She stopped. She hadn't expected a woman in a Force Recon unit. Much less one with the rank of Lieutenant Colonel. The pause though was only long enough for Mac to turn her head toward her. "Colonel, I'm Chief Petty Officer Brie, how is he doing?"

Mac looked up at her, not moving as a maelstrom of sand whipped and whirled around her, stirred up by the helicopter's still turning rotors. She kept her position beside Harm, not moving.

Rachel tried again. "Colonel, ma'am? How is he?"

This time she got through to Mac. "His arm…it's broken…and his ankle…."

"It's broken too?" she said gently.

Mac shook her head. "No, that is…no, not that I can't tell; but it's black and blue…"

"Okay Colonel," Rachel said as she moved closer. "Let me take a look…."

Mac nodded but didn't move from his side. Rachel understood her action. It was a defensive and protective action – the kind you might see a wife take. She wondered whether they were married or not.

"Ma'am! I've got a broken femur over here – compound fracture!" called out the dark haired Petty Officer 3rd Class, to CPO Brie. Her blond haired partner was working on immobilizing Pete Gibbon's injuries.

"I've got a broken wrist!" Rachel reported back to them.

"Broken ankle on this one!" The blond Petty Officer 2nd Class added.

"So much for Martin Baker getting them out without a scratch…." she grunted as she pulled a smelling salts ampoule from her bag. She looked over at Mac to see the Marine Light Colonel had moved even closer to the silent, prone aviator. The look on her face told Rachel that whoever this guy was to her, he was something special.

Rachel looked skyward for a moment, "Hey God...give her this one…" she said quietly. Right now even she couldn't tell the Colonel why he wasn't conscious by now. They may have been other injuries sustained that weren't visible to the naked eye. She hoped that wasn't the case. For the moment though Rachel wasn't going to worry about that; she needed to get her patient ready for transport.

Mac was still sitting on her on her knees, looking down at Harm. A few silent tears slid down her face on her bowed head. The Corpsman continued her work, splinting the Commander's broken arm and checking his other injuries. Next she would try to revive him with the ampoule.

When she was satisfied she had immobilized his injured limbs as best as she could, she broke the ampoule and passed it under his nose. "Commander? This is Chief Petty Officer Rachel Brie, can you hear me, sir?"

Harm's eyes fluttered. A small groan escaped his lips

"Ma'am?" Rachel said to Mac

The Light Colonel, though, was in her own world silently willing Harm to wake up and talk to her. _Come on Harm, damn you Flyboy, live…don't do this to me, don't you dare desert me now…._

"Ma'am?" The voice was more insistent. She looked out through tear filled eyelashes to see the Corpsman. Hope within her soared when she saw the look on the woman's face.

"He's coming around Ma'am. He's got a compound fracture in his left arm, and several minor wounds caused by shrapnel, but he's going to be okay."

Ignoring protocol, Mac leaned close to the Commander, brushing his forehead with the back of her hand. "Harm? Harm, can you hear me?" She placed her curled hand beside his face, stroking his soot covered cheek with her thumb. The Corpsman got up and faded into the background standing by a now smiling Sergeant Bradenton.

"Uh," It seemed to take forever for his eyes to focus. He blinked twice, three times, his face clouded with confusion. "Mac? I… must be… dead…" he lapsed into a fit of coughing

She was concerned about his coughing and tried to calm him. When he quieted down, she smiled warmly at him, "Not even close Sailor, although you did manage to scare the hell out of me again." Those last words that tumbled out of her mouth were a little harsher than she meant them to be, but they betrayed the depth of emotion she was feeling at the moment. "Sorry, but you did scare me, Harm."

Harm managed a weak smile. He reached for her other hand and held it in his on his chest. "Scared the hell out of you again, huh?" Harm tried to look around.

"Take it slow Flyboy, you really did a number on yourself," she softly admonished. Her deep brown eyes held him fast. "Do you remember what happened?"

"For a moment there I thought we were in trouble," he managed to quip, Then he became serious again. "Gaskin put one up our six…blown out of the cockpit," he sighed. "Is that what you call giving me cover, Marine?"

"Haarm…" she began with a momentary look of irritation crossing her face.

He suddenly remembered Mac's visions. "Pete," He struggled like a drunk to sit upright and failed miserably, as Mac and his injuries conspired to keep him on the ground.

"Pete is just fine, thanks to you." Harm could tell her voice was full of…admiration? He looked into her dark brown eyes again. She was smiling radiantly at him. She continued to stroke his cheek and her grip on his good hand strengthened.

**-TBC…**


	84. Chapter 83

**…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 83**

A/N 1: Thanks to my trio of editors [Mary Ann, Janlaw and Karen] for their usual fine job. Kudos also to AeroGirl, Mkim, Soleil, TZ, and Janlaw for providing their help and technical expertise. Also thanks to Lisa Griffon [Yahoo Shipper Group] for her continuing support.

**"Take it easy,** Harm; the Corpsman says you've got a broken left arm and a badly injured leg," Mac said as she tried to keep him from moving.

The aviator/lawyer, still groggy, tried to sit up again. This caused the Marine JAG Corps officer to gently restrain him.

"I told you to take it easy…Pete is just fine, Flyboy, you saved his life…and yours."

Harm shook his head. "No, Mac; you saved ours – thanks to you, we knew what to expect…."

Mac sat back on her heels. "Are you saying you heeded the warning from my vision?" This was a first.

Harm gave her a wry grin. "Let's just say I was hedging my bets, Marine…."

**Objective India**

The ineffectual stuttering of heavy machine guns was quickly drowned out by the roar of the incoming Tomcats of VF-218. If Sahood's men thought that shooting down one of the attacking aircraft was going to scare off 'The Raptors', they were grossly misinformed.

Rhino's Eagle 31 made the first strike. The 'Cat pilot didn't have at his disposal the laser guided bombs that he had used on his last run of over this target, but he did have the 'dumb iron bomb' versions and they were just as deadly for this assignment.

Rhino toggled his pickle switch and four 1,000 pound dumb bombs ripped the tracks from a T-62/KMT-6 mine clearing tank that had been leading Sahood's little procession and gutted an OT-64 personnel carrier that had been following right behind it.

An Assad Babil, Saddam's modification of the T-72M1, swerved around the burning wreckage while being bracketed by a pair of 2,000 pound explosions.

The following group of three OT-64 carriers weren't as lucky as they disappeared in a paroxysm of flames ignited by two napalm casings dropped on them. At first they continued to trundle forward, wheels alight, wrapped in flames until they began to detonate, flinging away their conical machine gun turrets like dogs shaking off water.

Behind Eagles 31, 32, and 33, Eagle 34, flown by Lieutenant [junior grade] Ben 'Wolfie' Walsh, dropped two 1,000 pound bombs on the engine deck of a Romanian built TR-77 main battle tank, destroying its ability to move.

With the main passage out of the Battalion Defensive Position now completely blocked, The Raptors' pounced with savage fury on the bottled up remains of Sahood's battle force.

Eagle 41 immolated a string of missile armed OT-64's and their guardian BTU-55 bulldozer tank. Eagle 42 walked a line of 20 millimeter shells into a hapless Gaskin missile truck as it vainly tried to engage the aerial attackers.

The rest of Eagle squadron went after the FROG and SCUD missile launchers that were trapped by the burning wreckage of the assault force.

As if on rails, Eagle squadron swooped down again and again on the fortress unleashing all their remaining ordnance. Tanks, personnel carriers, engineering vehicles which just minutes before been moving toward what they thought was certain victory, clanked to halt, spewing heavy black smoke or bursting into spasms of flame, their turrets ripped off and flung away from their chassis.

By the time Eagle squadron's Tomcats had expended all their ordnance, only a handful of dazed Fedayeen and the last remnants of the 11th Infantry Division and 2nd Al-Medinah Armored Division were stumbling around blindly in the acrid smoke.

"Adios, Mike Foxtrots" said Rhino sarcastically as he passed one last time over the burning wreckage, making sure there was nothing left intact.

As he pulled up, Eagle 31 saw giant multi-engined planes lumbering their way toward the Battalion Defensive Position. The B-52 cell from Diego Garcia had arrived.

**Air Force Captain** Brandon 'Rockwell' Carter steered his BUFF, affectionately known to the crew as 'Gran'dad's Devastator' – a sort of play on words in that his plane was almost old enough to be flown by his granddad – toward their designated target.

His pilot, or in layman's terms, the co-pilot 1st Lieutenant Corey Willis, looked at the smoking ruin of their target.

"That's what they want us to hit? It looks to me as if it's already done for. 'Rockwell….'" Carter had been nicknamed 'Rockwell' by his crew because when he smoked a pipe he looked like the spitting image of Norman Rockwell.

Aircraft Commander Brandon Carter knew this young hot-shot would mature, but at times Corey was like an overeager puppy. "It may look plastered, Lieutenant, but don't forget that Eagle squadron just lost one of their planes to SAM over this place."

Corey considered Carter's comment for a moment and then nodded. "You're right 'Rockwell', we can't be too careful with Saddam's boys."

'Rockwell' Carter switched his radio to VF-218's frequency so he could communicate with the closest F-14.

"Eagle 21 this is Thunder Seven; are you our escort to the target? Over."

"This is Eagle 31, Thunder Seven. Eagle 21 took a SAM up the tailpipe and they're riding the nylon elevator. Eagle 22 is keeping an eye on them until friendlies reach them. I'm your escort to the target, Thunder Seven."

Carter and Willis looked out their cockpit windows and could see the remains of the Tomcat fighter bomber wrapped around the junked Gaskin SAM launcher.

"Man, that took guts," Willis said aloud. Carter nodded. Central Command was right; the insurgents couldn't be allowed to keep these weapons or that fortress they had built. He sure hoped that 'Cat pilot and his RIO had made it out okay.

'Rockwell' spoke tersely into his radio mike. "Roger Eagle 31, lead us in, we'll do the rest…"

**Mac, Harm and the others **looked up when they heard the roar of the big bombers' Pratt and Whitney engines. The giant grey bombers were led by a single Tomcat.

"Those are some big b one rd's headed this way, ma'am," Kayce said as the three massive B-52 Stratofortresses drew ever closer.

"That would be the B-52 cell from Diego Garcia, Corporal." Mac replied as she continued watching them as well. They were going to have a front row seat for the bombing run.

As they all looked on, the agile Tomcat peeled up and away from the three massive jet bombers and began flying protective cover over the cell.

The Stratofortresses continued thundering toward the battalion defensive position and when they were over it, all three opened their bomb bay doors and unleashed hell on earth in the form of a rain of 1,000 and 2,000 pound iron bombs.

The ground in and around the Iraqi Battalion Defensive Position erupted like a shuddering volcano. All remaining enemy troops within the upper level of the fortress never knew what had happened. The lower level garage, pummeled by the assault of bombs, collapsed, tons of sand pouring into the cracks that opened up in the ground.

"Great hit Thunder, right on target!" reported Rhino as he wheeled over the target.

"You're welcome, Navy; let us know the next time you need carpet laid…"

Their run completed, the cell slowly turned back toward the Persian Gulf. Eagle 31 waggled his wings to the massive bombers as they made their way back to their base. As soon as they were clear of the area, a pair of black supersonic bombers made their appearance.

**Major Rod Collins**, Lightning 05 and Captain Rick Oswald, Lightning 06 had launched at the same time from Diego Garcia as the BUFFs, but the squalls in the area around the island had conspired to put them four minutes behind Rockwell's B-52s.

Rick Oswald gaped as he saw the dark plumes of smoke in place of their target

"Geez Rod, do you think there is anything left of the damned target?" Captain Oswald asked as he and his co-pilot observed the smoke shrouded target.

The Major was quick to respond. "They haven't called an abort, Rick. So I would say we continue unless they tell us otherwise, Over."

"Roger that,"

Rod switched his radio over to Eagle squadron's radio frequency. "Eagle this is Lightning oh five; storms at Diego stalled us, sorry for being late to the show. Should we abort? Over."

Rhino's answer to his query was immediate. "Eagle 31 to Lightning oh five; better late than never, negative on abort. Enemy has mobile SAM missiles. Commence bombing run."

"Roger Eagle 31, commencing bombing run now…"

**Mac, Harm and the others continued** to watch this aerial show as the two sleek jet-black B-1B Lancers turned and headed toward the smoking remains of Objective India.

Looking like two giant black paper airplanes, the B-1B Lancer strategic bombers nicknamed 'Bones' zeroed in on what was left of the defensive position and dropped their ordnance load of laser guided 2,000 pound bombs.

The bombs targeted any damaged vehicles or any intact buildings in the fortress. Two previously undamaged ammunition bunkers detonated, sending flaming ammunition spewing in every direction along with several evil looking fireballs.

"Bravo Zulu, Lightning! I think we can call Objective India neutralized…" Rhino reported.

"Copy that, Eagle three one. Always glad to give the Navy a helping hand. Give your commander our regards, Lightning out."

The two supersonic bombers waggled their wings and then swung back in the direction of Diego Garcia.

**Passing over the smoking holes **in the ground that had once marked the position of the Iraqi Battalion Defensive Position, Joseph 'Rhino' Wayne grimly nodded his satisfaction and spoke into his radio mike.

"Pie Tin this is Eagle 31, Misno one one; MISREP to follow: Objective India, four runs Eagle, one run Thunder, one run Lightning - twelve tangoes, fourteen alpha papa charlie; eight tango echo lima four SCUD and four FROG destroyed; losses one foxtrot fourteen delta to SAM."

**Sergeant Marcus had been running **their P7 at top speed since hearing over the battalion net that the insurgents had shot down one of the Tomcats that had helped out the 36th MEU at al-Khalim Farm.

They were the closest to the crash site. Sergeant Damato's AMTRAC crew along with Sergeant Canella and his men were still rounding up what was left of Darcy's team.

Donald Bice looked out his vision slits and saw a trail of smoke being pulled apart by an early afternoon breeze. It had to be the smoke trail of the downed F-14 fighter bomber. "Got it Major! Two o'clock on the horizon!"

Marcus turned his head to look back at the Marine Judge Advocates. "Battalion reports Angel Two from Battalion Aid Support is on site!"

"Confirmed! I've got a Seahawk on the ground near the smoke…"

"Who called them?" Floyd Johnson asked before Vince could say anything.

"Shark Two , Captain." Sergeant Marcus replied "Colonel MacKenzie's team was the first to reach them…."

Vince and Floyd exchanged knowing glances. If Shark Two was there, that meant the plane that had been shot down was most likely Commander Rabb's.

"Maintain top speed, Sergeant!"

Marcus knew they might throw a track at any moment running at this speed, but he didn't dare question the lawyer. "Aye Captain!"

"Lieutenant, get your men ready to assist Shark Two in recovery efforts!"

"Aye, aye, Major!"

**Although she moved enough **to let them do triage and get a body board underneath him, she would not leave his side. CPO Brie nodded her head, satisfied that her two patients were as ready for transport as possible. "Let's get them over to the helo!"

"Colonel! There's an AMTRAC headed our way at top speed!"

Mac maintained her position beside Harm as Kayce and the others stood up to address this possible threat. Don Burges who had climbed into the bed of the pickup, manned the .50 caliber M-2HB machine gun. Darcy and Captain Lewis had been captured, but that didn't mean that some of her other accomplices weren't still out there ready to unleash more mayhem.

"What's going on Chief?" The black haired Corpsman asked, noting the rise in tension as the AMTRAC approached.

Rachel noticed it too. These Force Recon soldiers looked as if they were getting ready to repel an enemy attack.

"I'm not sure, Petty Officer, but you and Cindy stay close to your patient…"

"Aye Chief…"

**The big carrier rolled to a shuddering stop **a short distance away from the protective ring of Force Recon soldiers.

"Major, you'd better see this…" Lieutenant Bice called down to Vince Barnett

Vince climbed up to Lieutenant Bice's seat and when he looked out through the vision slits he saw a defensive ring of soldiers around what looked like two men lying on the ground. The MEF legal officer noted that all the Recon soldiers had their weapons pointed at the AMTRAC.

"Sir? What the hell is going on? Those Recon Marines look like they are getting ready to open fire on us!"

"Let me handle this, Lieutenant," Vince said quickly as he moved to open the hatch of the vehicle's cupola.

Lieutenant Bice didn't like the Major opening the hatch in a possibly hostile situation, but the Major had the rank. "As you wish, sir." The Lieutenant said reluctantly.

"Colonel MacKenzie!" He yelled out. "This is Major Barnett! Are you all right?"

Mac looked up to see Vince Barnett standing in the commanders' hatch of the AMTRAC.

"It could be a trick Colonel," Mark Dallas said warily as he kept his rifle aimed at the MEF legal officer.

Mac shook her head. She hoped her gamble was right. "They're all right, Staff Sergeant, have the team stand down."

"Stand down," Mark called out to the other members of Mac's team, "They're friendlies."

As soon as they lowered their weapons, Lieutenant Bice's military police squad joined by MEU legal officer Captain Johnson debussed from the AMTRAC and joined the Force Recon soldiers.

**"What the hell was that all about?" **Pete Gibbons asked the blond petty officer as she finished bandaging the last of his wounds.

"Damned if I know, sir." she replied then smiled down at him. "Let's get you ready to move…."

"Ma'am? What was that? Why did your team respond that way to their arrival?" Rachel Brie asked Mac as she decided to bandage a few more of Harm's less serious wounds.

Mac exchanged a knowing glance with Harm. "Long story Chief…" She replied obliquely.

Rachel nodded and decided the less she knew, the better.

**Floyd Johnson had the military policemen **join the defensive ring around the two injured airmen.

"Lieutenant; follow the lead of these Recon soldiers…there may be enemy combatants out here in Marine uniforms."

Lieutenant Bice gave him a puzzled look, but nodded his acceptance. "Aye sir."

"Okay, Commander, you're ready for transport." Rachel said to Harm

Harm squeezed Mac's hand. "I'll be all right, Marine."

But the Light Colonel didn't let go of his hand. "I'm not letting you out of my sight, Flyboy."

Harm sighed theatrically. "Maac; I'm perfectly capable of-"

"Harmon Rabb, I don't want to debate this…"

Harm arched an eyebrow at her. "Oh yeah? So just how are you going to shut me up, Marine?"

Mac moved closer to the aviator/lawyer.

Vince Barnett had climbed down from the idling AMTRAC and was making his way over to the JAG Corps officers. He could see the Commander and Colonel were about one minute from liplock. He looked at Captain Johnson and other Marines standing perimeter watch around the two.

"Captain?" He noticed that the Colonel was 'dangerously' close to the Commander.

One of the younger military policemen spoke up first. "Sir, we don't see anything but the Colonel attempting to give mouth-to-mouth to the Commander." He looked back at the two JAG Corps officers behind him and then back at the Major. "He's been injured Sir." The Corporal added as he worked hard to keep his face straight. The Corporal then looked over at Lieutenant Bice who nodded.

"I agree with the Corporal, sir. Do you Captain?"

Johnson smiled, "Yes Lieutenant," He turned Vince. "The Colonel is just administering first aid to the Commander."

Vince Barnett shook his head as he returned the smile, "Just keep an eye out for any nosey reporters."

"Aye Sir," came the response. But Harm and Mac could not hear them. In fact, they couldn't hear anyone. Mac was deepening the kiss she was giving the Commander and despite his condition, he was trying his best to return it.

For once, there weren't any interruptions. Mac brushed her tongue against the inside of Harm's mouth, touching the inside of his teeth and pushing against his tongue until he responded in kind. They continued until Mac had to come up for air or suffocate them both.

"Uh Colonel?" Mac pulled away slowly and looked up. CPO Brie was looking shyly at her. "Ma'am, did the mouth-to-mouth work? 'Cause we're ready to evac now…"

"Yeah, I believe it did, Chief," Mac said smiling as she stood up.

"Glad to hear it, ma'am." Rachel murmured as stoically as she could given the circumstances. "Okay Commander; let's get you and your RIO outta here…Corporal, could you give me a hand with his stretcher?"

"Aye ma'am" The Corporal grabbed the other end of the stretcher and he and CPO Brie lifted it off the ground.

"We'll follow, Colonel," Kayce said to Mac as she stayed by Harm's side. "Where's the Battalion Aid station now, Chief?"

"Just a few clicks from here, Lance Corporal. On that hill…" Rachel answered pointing to a distant hill. "It's got a good defensible area, and will be close enough to the MEU as it mops up around Objective India."

**"Lost another…." Harm sighed **as their little procession trooped toward the Seahawk.

"What are you talking about?" Mac said quizzically as they got closer to the medevac helo, whose rotors had slowly started turning as the pilot restarted his engine.

Harm began reeling off his aerial mishap history. "My ramp strike, that time we ran into those poachers, the Tomcat I dumped in the drink the night of your engagement party, that crop duster's controlled flight into terrain in the Chaco Boreal and now this…"

"Don't forget the MiG in Russia," Mac quipped with a sly grin.

"What are you… keeping count?" Harm groused.

She gave him an even bigger smile. "Have to keep you on your toes, Flyboy."

"Thanks Mac…I really didn't need to hear that…" The aviator/lawyer said morosely.

Mac wasn't in the mood for his pity session. "Oh, come off it Harm, you're alive. Pete's alive…."

"Yeah, but all it seems that all I do lately when I get in the cockpit of a plane is crash…."

"That's not true." She stopped their little procession so she could better focus on him. "You didn't crash this time, Flyboy, you were shot down."

The Commander looked away from her. "It doesn't matter Mac, I'm not sure I want to fly again…."

She looked intently at him. "We'll talk about this later, Navy." She motioned for the Corporal and CPO to start moving again.

The CPO supervised the placement of Harm and Pete into the SH-60 Seahawk air ambulance with Mac staying right by his side. Mac's recon soldiers, joined by Johnson and Barnett, got into the Dodge pickup. Sergeant Marcus' AMTRAC joined the pickup and they followed the helo as it lifted off the ground and headed for the battalion aid station.

**Sully had gotten some great footage **of that squadron of Tomcats that had kicked open the door for the Marines' attack at al-Khalim Farm. He also caught the arrival of the MEU's helos as the 36th attacked the second insurgent stronghold.

But he could only shoot aerial footage of the B-52s and B-1s as they made their way toward Objective India. They wouldn't get there in time to film any of that. Stuart sure hoped FOX didn't beat them to the punch on this.

"We got some good stuff about the Marine assaults, but what do you think those bombers were doing, Stuart?" Brad asked.

"Dunno Brad, but don't worry, the Commander promised us full access…"

Brad though, wasn't satisfied. He tried 'his asking the man on the street persona'. "What about you, Marine, where do you think those bombers were headed? What were they called in for?" He said giving the man a broad smile.

"I'm just ground pounder sir." The PFC answered back to Brad. "I just go where they tell me and do what they tell me to do…"

That was not the answer Brad Holliman was looking for. "We're missing out on half the show, Stuart." griped Brad, "We should have rented our own SUV-"

"I wouldn't advise that sir," the Corporal replied. "The insurgents had some pretty nasty surprises for anyone snooping around up here."

"Tomcat crashed near Objective India!" The driver called out - he had been monitoring the battalion net.

Stuart quickly climbed up to the Corporal's station. "Can you get us there?"

Despite his dislike for these three newsmen, the Corporal was under orders to give them what access he could without endangering the mission.

"Yes sir, Mr. Dunston," he replied. "Lance Corporal; take us to the Battalion Aid Station!"

"Aye, aye, Corporal!"

**-TBC…**


	85. Chapter 84

**…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 84**

Stuart Dunston was livid. "Hey, hey, hey! Wait a damn minute! I didn't say anything about going to the Battalion Aid Station! I want to get some footage of that crashed Tomcat!"

"Sorry 'bout that Mr. Dunston," the Corporal said insincerely. "That Tomcat was downed in enemy controlled territory. You'll have to wait until our forces secure the area." He also dearly wanted to tell this newshound to get back down where he belonged instead of fogging up his instruments.

"The Corporal is right, Mr. Dunston," added the Lance Corporal. "Besides, we just heard on the battalion net that the Tomcat pilot and his RIO are just arriving at the Battalion Aid Station. We'll be there in a few minutes, tops. You'll get an exclusive."

Somewhat mollified by that comment, Stuart lowered himself back down beside Brad and Sully.

**Operation King Cobra, D-day + ?**  
><strong>USS Patrick Henry<strong>

Captain Tobias Ingles was in the carrier's Combat Information Center watching the blips of the returning squadrons of his ship's Air Wing, listening to the reports from the squadron commanders. He wished he had not let Rabb and his squadron refuel and rearm at al Talil, but he knew that stubborn aviator/lawyer would have argued right back saying that they were the only squadron in the area and that anyone else would get there too late...

Still, if the HCN had been neutralized by the Force Recon team, why not just let the Air Force bombers take care of the mess? He could have used that against the Commander. But deep down he knew that Navy JAG Corps attorney would have had some argument that would have convinced him to let Harmon Rabb, Jr. do what we wanted to.

Patrick Henry's Captain began studying battle damage assessment images from the RPVs that were now circling high above the smoking hole where the battalion defensive position had been located. After the strikes by the bombers from Diego Garcia, there wasn't much left to look at. Now all he had to hear was how Rabb's squadron made out.

The news wasn't long in coming.

A radio officer in the room held one hand to his radio set then looked over at Ingles. "Captain! It's the CAG! Commander Rabb - he's declared an emergency!"

Ingles sighed inwardly _Not over the water I hope,_ he thought.

"Put it on the speakers, Petty Officer."

There was a lot of static at first then everyone could hear the CAG's unusually frantic voice.

"Eagle 21, can you make it back!"

"Negative…" An obviously weak Harm began coughing again. "… Negative…losing… altitude fast…Mayday… mayday… we're… going… down…."

"Eagle 21! You are ordered to eject! Eject now Hammer! HAMMER! Do you read me? You are to EJECT NOW! HARM! EJECT! EJECT! EJECT!"

"CAG? CAG! This is the Captain! What's the hell's going on?"

"Rabb has been shot down, Captain!" the CAG said tersely. "That's all I know right now, sir!"

"Captain! incoming message from the acting commander of Eagle squadron!"

"On the CIC speakers, Petty Officer!" ordered the Captain of Patrick Henry.

"Aye sir!"

"Pie Tin, Pie Tin…" Rhino's voice sounded somewhat strained. "I say again, this is Eagle 31, Misno one one; MISREP to follow: Objective India, four runs Eagle, one run Thunder, one run Lightning - twelve tangos, fourteen alpha papa charlie; eight tango echo lima four SCUD and four FROG destroyed; losses…one foxtrot fourteen delta to SAM."

As his report played over the intercom system, almost everyone in Combat Information Center froze in place. Alfred Aldridge scribbled a few quick notes about the radio message, and then he picked up an available radio mike.

"Eagle 31, this is Law. What is the status of Eagle 21?"

Joseph Wayne had obviously been holding in his real feelings because they spilled out in his next message. "Hammer, that is, Eagle 21, he was struck by a SAM just north of Mirbullah, sir…."

Alfred Aldridge felt as if he had been smacked in the face by a sandbag. Tobias Ingles quickly grabbed the mike out of the Force Judge Advocate's hands. "A SAM! How bad Eagle 31?"

Rhino got himself back under control. Flying to pieces wasn't going to help anyone. "He last reported trailing smoke and losing altitude, sir."

"Commander," Tobias Ingles snapped at the Force Judge Advocate standing next to him, "Where is Captain Seranovich?"

Command Aldridge was ready with this information. "The Captain is with Colonel Baxter at the 36th MEU Headquarters. I'll send her to the crash site, sir."

"Belay that last part Commander!" Tobias said hold up his hand. "Eagle 31 this is The Baker," he said to let the pilot know he was speaking with the Captain and not the Force Judge Advocate. "…you say 'last reported'? What the hell happened to his radio?"

"I-I think he turned off his radio and then he and his RIO … Clyde…they punched out, sir. Supergirl, that is, Eagle 22…she confirmed two chutes but she said they looked injured."

"Injured?" Ingles thoughts immediately snapped him back to that night when Rabb's Tomcat lost power and fell into the Atlantic during that storm. Only this time they were bailing out over enemy-held territory, not water.

"Yes sir. Eagle 22 said they were hurt when they ejected out of the plane…possible seat malfunction caused by the SAM's detonation…."

"Damn…damn…damn…." Patrick Henry's Captain swore viciously. Everyone in the CIC started when they heard him. No one moved or spoke. No one had ever seen The Captain like this before.

"But they're alive, sir." Rhino added.

Captain Ingles nodded, working to get his anger back under control. "Thank God for small miracles, Eagle…I take it the plane…"

"The Tomcat augured in, sir. Eagle 22 reported it was the strangest thing she'd ever seen…. "

Patrick Henry's Captain couldn't let that slide. "How so, Eagle 31?"

"Well sir, Eagle 22 said it looked like someone was piloting that wreck – it plowed right into the Gaskin that knocked Eagle 21 out of the sky and it took out some of the retreating al-Qaeda troops to boot."

_Well thank God for small favors. At least there's *some* good news._ "How are Hammer and Clyde?"

"Shark Two evac'ed them to GATORFORCE's BAS just south of here, sir."

Captain Ingles cut his eyes toward the Force Judge Advocate. "Commander-"

Alfred Aldridge anticipated his request. "-I'm on it, sir! Get me Captain Seranovich, Petty Officer!"

"Aye sir!"

Tobias Ingles turned his attention back to the acting Eagle squadron leader. "Eagle 31, Where's Eagle 22 now?"

Joseph Wayne turned around and looked to his nine o'clock. "She's getting ready to rejoin us, sir."

The fact that Nicole Hollands had left Harm and rejoined the squadron indicated she thought he in was good hands.

"Tell her to report to me as soon as she lands, Eagle 31." The Captain ordered.

"Aye, aye, sir."

**Operation King Cobra, D-day + ?**  
><strong>MTAC, NCIS Headquarters<strong>  
><strong>Washington Navy Yard<strong>

The Navy/Marine Corps JAG had seen his fair share of combat, but he had never witnessed a SAM knocking a Tomcat out of the air.

It was surreal in a way because it looked, at first, as if the last missile had actually missed the fighter bomber. But as the camera on board the aerial drone zoomed in on the stricken plane, the fatal damage could clearly be seen.

"Oh my God," breathed one of the MTAC technicians as the Tomcat began to shudder violently. Everyone's eyes were glued to the main screen in the room.

_C'mon Commander,_ AJ silently willed, focusing on the smoke billowing from the obviously doomed aircraft's cockpit.

Tom Morrow watched intently for tell-tale signs of the explosive bolts being blown to release the badly pitted cockpit canopy and release this crew from their doomed aircraft.

"I've got audio from Patrick Henry's CAG, Director!"

The speakers in the Multiple Threat Assessment Center picked up Harm Rabb, Junior as he conferred with Patrick Henry's CAG about his increasingly desperate situation.

"Eagle 21, can you make it back!"

"Negative…" An obviously weak Harm began coughing again. "… Negative…losing… altitude fast…Mayday… mayday… we're… going… down…."

"Eagle 21! You are ordered to eject! Eject now Hammer! HAMMER! Do you read me? You are to EJECT NOW! HARM! EJECT! EJECT! EJECT!"

As he watched this awful scene unfold. AJ Chegwidden's thoughts reeled back to his first meeting with Harmon Rabb, Junior.

_"Since you have the hot hand in JAG, I'm going to give you the hot investigations. I expect results – and headlines – positive headlines...can you handle that, Mr. Rabb?"_

_"I'll do my best, sir."_

_"If you can't, I'll drop you in my wake faster than my garbage."_

And the Navy/Marine Corps JAG hadn't been disappointed with the Commander's performance-with one or two glaring exceptions. His thoughts were dragged back to current situation on the screen. It was obvious that the badly damaged Tomcat was on the verge of breaking apart…still no one had ejected from the fighter bomber.

AJ focused his eyes on the starred canopy _Commander, get your damn butt out of that aluminum cloud and stop trying to be a hero!_

The canopy suddenly went sailing up and back over the craft through the hot afternoon air. This was followed by Harm and his RIO's seats jetting skyward out of the doomed F-14D.

Their initial descents were textbook perfect, but the Gaskin SAM's shrapnel had obviously shredded several of their restraints. A couple of the technicians in the Threat Assessment Center audibly gasped and groaned as they watched two pilots being badly hurt during their ejection.

Both men, on wildly different trajectories, shot up, back, and away from the burning plane.

"Director! Admiral! Shark Two is moving to intercept the two pilots!"

AJ studied the Force Recon vehicles as they raced to meet the two descending pilots. He knew instinctively that Sarah MacKenzie was leading this rescue mission. He just hoped the Commander was still alive when he reached the ground.

With the two pilots reaching the ground and being cared for by the Force Recon team, the MTAC staff went back to their jobs.

"Director! Fire control teams report the strike force from Diego Garcia is feet dry and inbound to Objective India!"

**Operation King Cobra, D-day + ?**  
><strong>GATORFORCE Battalion Aid Station<strong>

The Captain had just finished working on his third patient. He slid down against the side of the HMMWV ambulance and put his head down between his legs. He wasn't about to pass out but the ghastly injuries he had seen in the last few hours were messing with his mind. With luck, the Sergeant he had just operated on would live. He wished he could have said the same for Corporal Danielle Weitz. As hard as the surgeon had tried, it wasn't enough. The look in that young JAG Corps officer's eyes as he held Weitz's hand was too painful to think about.

He didn't even notice Faith Coleman approaching him.

The Captain looked up to the see the JAG Corps officer staring at him. Immediately he stood.

"Captain-" Faith began.

"Look Commander," The doctor replied angrily, "There's no way on God's green earth that I could've saved her! I did everything I could! If you're going to bring me up on charges, you'd better do it!"

Instead of lighting into him, Faith sighed heavily. Deep down, she knew she had deserved that. "What I was going to say, Captain, is that I know you tried your best," she said quietly. "Thank you."

The Captain looked at the Navy JAG officer for a moment and then nodded, accepting her unspoken apology. "How is Lieutenant Roberts?"

"He's dealing with it," Faith replied flatly meaning she really didn't know how he was dealing with it.

Both turned toward the sound of the approaching aero-medical helo.

A running Petty Officer brushed past both of them. "Incoming wounded!" he yelled as nurses and orderlies began rushing toward the Seahawk as it settled to the ground.

**Operation King Cobra, D-day + 7 hours**  
><strong>Somewhere south of Objective India<strong>

The three HMMWVs rolled to a silent stop outside the partially camouflaged bunker. Before theirs stopped moving, Leroy Jethro Gibbs and Tony DiNozzo jumped out and ran to the side of the bunker. PO2 Vickers kept the vehicle's .50 caliber machine gun trained on the open back entrance as Victor Galindez, Master Chief Coskill and two other members of the SEAL team joined the uniformed NCIS Agents. The rest of the team spread out in a defensive posture around the bunker.

Gibbs nodded to Tony. "You go high, I'll go low."

"Got it, Boss,"

"Go!"

The two men entered the darkened doorway; Gibbs was squatting, and pointing his rifle to the left into the darkness. To his right, Tony was standing aiming his rifle into the darkness. No one greeted their armed entrance.

Tony couldn't see anything threatening in the inky black interior. "Clear!" he whispered to Gibbs.

The senior NCIS Agent nodded. Maybe this bunker was abandoned. Victor turned on his flashlight and shined it into the dark interior.

The red light revealed a closed door at the far end of the room. Though bathed in red light, it looked like an ordinary wooden door.

One of Coskill's young Petty Officers stole over to it and tried the handle.

"It's unlocked," he reported in a tense whisper. All in the room raised their weapons.

"Open it," hissed the Master Chief.

The young Petty Officer nodded. He counted down with his other hand as he gingerly began to turn the knob. Three, two, one!

The door swung open and Gunny Galindez's red light disappeared into the gaping darkness beyond the door.

The Special Agents and the SEALs lowered their weapons. Abandoned, like the room they were standing in. Then Gibbs raised his rifle again.

Tony started to ask him why he was raising his rifle and then in a moment, they all heard it. Voices in the darkness. English spoken with an Arabic accent. But why were they speaking English?

"Samir, I'm sorry…we failed to destroy the Americans." The first voice then started speaking his native tongue.

"English please, Hakim, we do not want our foot soldiers to know how badly things are going. But do not be sorry, we actually achieved our goal."

Gibbs and the others moved forward into the inky black room.

"How can you say that, Samir? The Fedayeen was scattered, their armor destroyed, our missiles and their launchers were destroyed and our base of operations was pounded to oblivion!"

Gibbs felt another door in front of him. Like the previous one, it was unlocked. He slowly opened the door and the SEALs and NCIS Agents entered the dimly lit room.

"But we sowed doubt in the minds of the Americans, Hakim! Part of their vaunted Marine Force Recon has been found to be corrupt and in collusion with us. Do you not see the value of this? Now the Americans will be second guessing every independent acting Force Recon commander and Special Operations officer. It erodes their morale that much more!"

"I beg to disagree, Samir."

The Al-Qaeda commander's cigarette fell out of his mouth and onto the floor. His eyes were locked onto the Caucasian with the silver military haircut. His rifle was pointed right between Samir Al-Sahood eyes. The second man had his weapon pointed at the man's heart. The other soldiers had their rifles trained on Hakim Faoud al-Harib.

The older man's hand moved slightly.

"Please go for your gun, Samir. I would love to wound you badly enough that you live in horrible agony for the rest of your life!" Gibbs growled.

**Operation King Cobra, D-day + 7 hours**  
><strong>GATORFORCE Command Post<strong>

Andrew Baxter stood looking through his binoculars at the fiercely burning rubble that was once the Iraqi Battalion Defensive Position. Nothing within stirred. Flying over the ruins, a lone AC-130, 'Elvin Fury', scanned for enemy movement.

"Colonel!" It was Sergeant Dewert, "Dust Devil One and Rover Leader report the Fedayeen are trying to mount a counter attack!"

"With what?" snapped Baxter.

Staff Sergeant Fuller says they've got an Assad Babil T-72, a couple of OT-64s and some URAL trucks along with a couple of Fedayeen pickup trucks."

The acting MEU commander grinned wolfishly. The Staff Sergeant and Lieutenant Borden had their platoon positioned all around the perimeter of the burning rubble. "Tell Rover and Slugger leaders to take them out!"

"Aye sir!" Dewert replied then spoke into his radio. "Rover Leader, Slugger Leader; take out the tangos!"

**If there had been twenty more of them**, they might have presented a threat to GATORFORCE. But the lone T-72M1 was more of an anomaly on this battlefield than anything else. Hank Borden, Slugger Leader, watched the Soviet built tank as it trundled toward them, seemingly oblivious to the hull down M-1 tanks.

"Tango identified! He's not moving very fast Lieutenant!" reported his gunner.

"Uh huh," replied Borden studying the Assad Babil as it climbed a slight rise. "He's hurting, Gunner. Let's try to take him intact. Fire!"

"On the way!" Slugger Four's 120mm cannon cracked once, sending an armor piercing round directly into tank's lower right front.

The Iraqi tank shuddered as the round dug into the unprotected right hand side drive sprocket, obliterating it and sending its right hand tracks slithering forward, piling up in front of the vehicle.

The heavily armored behemoth swerved to the right, with the entire vehicle tilting the same direction. The beast's 125mm cannon pointed uselessly into the air, away from Slugger Four.

"Mobility kill! Right on the money, Gunner! Coax on Tango! Loader! M Two Forty on Tango! Let's make it hot for them!"

Try as they might, the inexperienced crew couldn't depress their main gun low enough to engage Slugger Four. If this had been a TR-77 like they had trained on, they might have had a chance, but with .50 caliber and 7.62 rounds bouncing off their wounded machine, they panicked and tore open the hatches and thrust a dirty white undershirt into the air indicating that they were done fighting.

**Staff Sergeant Fuller watched** as the first OT-64, machine guns blazing, roared toward him, filling his vision.

"Gunner!" Fuller barked "Armor Piercing! PC! Point blank!"

"On the way!"

25 millimeter rounds punched into the charging Czech-built personnel carrier holing it. Driverless, the smoking OT-64 veered toward a slight drop off and overturned, spilling flaming wreckage out of it.

**To his left, Sergeant Kyle Sewett in Rover Three** was not as lucky as he had to dive into his hatch to avoid the hailstorm of machine gun fire that pelted his LAV.

The surviving OT-64, sensing it might have a kill, lunged toward the stricken LAV-25. It never saw the TOW missile from Lieutenant Dye's LAV-AT or 83mm SMAW rockets headed toward it.

The hapless OT-64 disappeared in an explosive convulsion of flame and debris.

Kyle pulled himself back up into the hatch opening to see who their savior had been. The Sergeant saw Lieutenant Dye in the LAV-AT giving him a thumbs-up along with Corporal Holmgren from Lieutenant Rowe's squad. Behind Holmgren was Seadragon A021 moving up with Gunny Sanchez and the rest of the squad.

**Dewert gave Andrew Baxter** an update on the Fedayeen assault. "We've knocked out their armored support, Colonel! But they still have their technicals and their armed transport trucks!"

Andrew Baxter shook his head at the irony of it. It wouldn't surprise him in the least if these were the same insurgents who had ambushed the 36th as it had entered Mirbullah back in March. Samir's men. And Lieutenant Hawkins unit was the closest one that could respond. Now that really was ironic.

"Let Lieutenant Hawkins and Alpha Company take care of them, Sergeant." Andrew Baxter replied. He was sure that Hawkins and his men would relish this chance to even the score.

Sergeant Dewert knew they would. "Aye, aye, sir!"

**Operation King Cobra, D-day + 8 hours**  
><strong>36th MEU Battalion Aid Station<strong>

Harm woke up to everything being olive drab and dusty but strangely quieter than his doomed Tomcat had been.

Then his eyes locked on her. She was still dressed in her Force Recon outfit but she was as lovely a vision as he had ever seen.

"Mac? What's going on?" Harm tried to stand and found sharp pains wracking his wrapped arm and leg.

Mac put her pretty hand on Harm's chest and pushed on him gently, urging him to lay back down. She didn't need to insist too much as Harm eased himself back down on the padded cot. "Easy Flyboy, you're still not in any shape to get up and walk around, you've got a busted arm and a pretty banged up leg."

The groggy aviator/lawyer looked around. "Where am I?"

"Battalion Aid Station," she explained, "they've been debating about sending you to Mirbullah and then shipping you out to a hospital ship."

Harm pushed against her hands. "Mac, you can't let them do that…"

She stood firm, keeping her hands on his chest. "Why not Harm? You're not exactly mobile at the moment-"

Harm struggled against her. "I'll be the judge of that-"

Mac fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Harm, don't be such a hardheaded idiot…" Commander 'Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead' was back.

"Ah, Commander Rabb, Colonel MacKenzie…."

They both turned and looked at the Romanian officer entering the room. Mac stepped away from Harm. "I'm sorry, Kapitan…?"

"It's Colonel Eliasu, Colonel." The Romanian officer replied correcting her politely. Then he turned his attention to Harmon Rabb, Junior. "Commander, I bring best wishes from her Excellency, Queen Alexandra."

Harm started at the name. Mac fought hard to suppress a smile. The aviator/lawyer looked uncomfortably at the Romanian officer. "Uh, well…tell her Excellency thank you-"

But the Romanian Colonel wasn't done. "The Queen has also put our medical unit at the service of this Marine Battalion Aid Station. The Queen wishes to see that you and the Marines of the 36th MEU get the best medical care available."

"Ah okay," Harm answered cautiously looking in askance at Mac.

"And she asked me to relay a personal message of wishes for a speedy recovery and she expressed hope that your injuries were not too um, debilitating." His eyes glanced downward toward the Commander's nether regions. Harm's eyes immediately went wide at what he was implying. Mac nearly burst out in laughter.

"Ah no, no! Really, I'm, uh, fine, uh yeah, just fine, down there…"

The Romanian Colonel beamed. "Excellent, excellent. Your Colonel Baxter has agreed that our surgeon should take a look at your arm and leg."

Harm was feeling trapped by Queen Alexi's humanitarian offer. "Ah, that won't be-"

But there was to be no escape for the Navy JAG Corps attorney. "The Queen insists, Commander. I'll be back in a little while with your surgeon." He turned to Mac and nodded. "Colonel," and with that, he left the room.

The aviator/lawyer couldn't believe what was happening. When Harm looked back at Mac, she was looking at him with a cocked quizzical eyebrow.

"Maac;" Harm groaned, "I swear, I knew nothing about this…"

Mac decided to have a little fun at his expense. After all she had been through this morning, she couldn't help doing something impish. "Uh huh; I see I'm going to have to keep an eye on you, Squid." She tried her best to sound miffed.

She succeeded. "Maac," Harm moaned. It was bad enough he was trapped in this aid station with this Romanian officer courtesy of Queen Alexi [Alexandra]. He didn't want her thinking what she was thinking. Not now.

Mac couldn't keep up the act. She truly felt empathy about his sticky situation; she had been in plenty of them herself. She smiled saucily at him and gave the Commander a wink. "You'd better watch it Commander," she said teasingly, "your nose might begin to grow…."

**-TBC…**


	86. Chapter 85

**…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 85**

A/N 1: Thanks to my trio of editors [Mary Ann, Janlaw and Karen] for their usual fine job. Kudos also to AeroGirl, Mkim, Soleil, TZ, Janlaw for providing their help and technical expertise. Also thanks to Lisa Griffon [Yahoo Shipper Group] for her continuing support.

**Operation King Cobra, D-day + 9 hours**

Clayton Webb watched closely as the HMMWV came to halt. Commander May and his driver got out. The driver excused himself. Brad looked at the strangely clean uniformed Marine standing there waiting for him. "Lieutenant Abby Cowen, I presume," Brad May said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

CIA Special Agent frowned. "It's Lieutenant Dayton Wilksbury, Commander."

Brad May shook his head. He honestly wondered sometimes why he worked with these spooks. "Okay Lieutenant; I take it you want a SITREP, correct?"

"Just tell me if you destroyed those missiles," Webb said bluntly. He wasn't in any mood for verbal foreplay or sparring right now. It had been a long flight on that C-17 from Washington and Kershaw had told him in no uncertain terms that he was not to come back unless Samir's missiles were destroyed.

Brad shook his head again. "No, we didn't, but Colonel MacKenzie's recon team did and Commander Rabb's squadron destroyed the trucks and some armor the insurgents had been squirreling away for a rainy day…." Brad wasn't going to reveal how extensive their stocks were, the spook could read about that in 'Rancher' and 'Scimitar's' report.

The SEAL Commander could tell by the look on Clayton Webb's face that those two names struck more of a nerve in him than did the Commander's report. "Colonel MacKenzie's recon team?" He said. It was obvious to May that he sounded thunderstruck and tad disbelieving. "She was leading them?"

Catching a spook by surprise was kinda fun every once in awhile, especially since they usually were the ones always insisting they were 'in the know'. Brad had a hard time hiding his amusement. "Yes sir, I thought you knew…"

Clay made a sour face. Sometimes dealing with military types could be such a pain. "No, I didn't…. So how do you know it was Commander Rabb's squadron that destroyed Sahood's armor force, did Rancher tell you?" It was an obvious assumption. After all, Rancher had been selected as the CIA's 'eyes and ears' for the strike on Objective India.

Again, Commander May turned that notion on its ear. "No sir, we learned via Colonel MacKenzie that Commander Rabb's squadron had volunteered to destroy the SCUD and FROG missile trucks. Colonel MacKenzie's team neutralized the missiles with the help of Captain al-Bazz."

That was another reason he hated those long flights – it left him out of touch with everything that was going on. Of course he hadn't contacted Meg Austin yet and gotten her report…if he had, she probably would've told him that Harmon Rabb's squadron was the one that put Sahood's force out of commission and that Sarah's unit had worked with former Republican Guard officer Hosan al-Bazz.

"Well I guess Commander Rabb's unit should be thanked for their help," Webb murmured grudgingly.

Brad nodded. "Yes sir; and you can thank Commander Rabb yourself if you like…" (and Colonel MacKenzie) he thought but decided he'd hold that back for now.

Clayton Webb was getting tired of Commander May's cryptic comments. "What do you mean?"

"The Commander was shot down by Samir's men. They had some GASKIN SAMs that they had liberated from the Iraqi army…." It was giving away a little of what was going to be in the official report, but maybe this would give the CIA Agent an idea of the kind of opposition they had faced in this operation.

"How bad was he hurt?" Clay had images of Sarah stringing him up like an Old West outlaw if Harm was badly hurt.

"He and his RIO were injured ejecting out of the plane and badly enough, sir, that they were medevac'ed to the Marine's Battalion Aid Station."

"What about the plane?"

Brad May didn't mince words. "Total loss – it augured in and destroyed the launcher that shot him down."

Even though Webb reasoned that it was partially Rabb's fault that he got shot down, the Special Agent knew that Kershaw would hold him responsible for this happening. After all, if he had caught al Harib in DC, they might have been able to stop all this from happening….

"Just tell me we caught Sahood and Livingston…" The CIA Agent said wearily.

"My men and the D.C. NCIS Major Case Response Team lead by Special Agent Gibbs are apprehending Samir as we speak. As for Colonel Livingston…she was badly wounded in a firefight between her unit and ours…"

"Ours? What do you means by ours? Was there more than just your SEAL team involved, Commander?"

"Mine and Colonel MacKenzie's recon Marines, Mr. Webb. The Colonel was able to turn several members of the unit against Colonel Livingston. We also apprehended Captain Lewis-"

"Captain Lewis…wait, do you mean Captain Jacques Lewis? The rogue DSD operative?"

Brad May smiled smugly. He was really proud that they had caught him. "None other sir. We suspected he was involved in several killings here in Iraq including Lieutenant Dodge's, but we didn't have any solid proof, that is, until he killed several members of Darcy's team during our firefight with them. Gibbs' unit supplied the rest of the evidence we needed to nail him."

"So when did you capture him?"

"We got him as he tried to kill Colonel MacKenzie. He was still with Colonel Livingston for some reason. We'd figured he'd high-tailed it to Syria once he learned we were on his tail."

"That's great news, Commander. What about the insurgents and the Saddam Fedayeen who were supporting al Sahood and Colonel Livingston?"

"Al Jihad and Jama'at al Tawhid al Jihad lost many of their senior lieutenants in the firefights with the 36th MEU and the air strikes against Objective India. Colonel Baxter, commander of the MEU, told us several armor caches were also found and many members of both groups were rounded up. It will take them time recoup those losses. The Saddam units in this area no longer exist."

"And the al-Diwaniyah and Mirbullah al Qaeda terrorist cells?"

Now Brad gave his first real smile in days. "Rendered ineffective, sir. With Sahood's and Harib's captures, the al-Diwaniyah cell is essentially leaderless. As for the Mirbullah cell…we're still counting heads, but we're fairly certain it has been wiped out."

**Operation King Cobra, D-Day + 9 Hours**  
><strong>36th MEU Battalion Aid Station<strong>

Mac needed to stretch her legs. With Harm sleeping peacefully, this was the perfect time. She quietly got up from his bedside and slipped out of the room. Passing by several wounded Marines' cots, she started to head outside.

"Colonel?"

Mac turned to see one of Commander May's SEAL team members motioning to her from a side room.

The Marine JAG Corps officer walked over to the young Petty Officer. "Yes, Petty Officer?

He turned and looked back toward the darkened room and then back at her. "Ma'am, Colonel Livingston would like to see you…"

Mac steeled herself. This was one confrontation she'd hoped she wouldn't have to have. Darcy Livingston was one of those people who won over others with flattery, found their weaknesses, and then exploited those to the fullest, sometimes to the person's death.

To say Mac had been equally flattered and frightened by Darcy would be an understatement.

The room was a little ways down from Harm's. Unlike the single lamp at Harm's bedside, there were none in Darcy's room. The young SEAL allowed her to go in first and then followed afterwards.

As Mac's eyes adjusted to the darkness, she could see the former Force Recon CO lying on her padded cot. If Mac didn't know better, she'd swear that Darcy had already passed.

Her chest was still and her eyes were closed…just like she was when Mac had left to her to rescue Harm.

She could still hear Darcy's comment about Harm as his squadron prepared to attack Sahood's fortress one last time…

_"Looks like I get a lagniappe after all, Cher…."_

The Marine JAG Corps officer pushed those thoughts aside. It wouldn't help her better handle talking to Darcy Livingston As she came closer to her bedside, Darcy's eyes fluttered and then opened, trying to focus on the person standing over her cot.

"Colonel…MacKenzie…."

Mac nodded curtly. "Colonel,"

Darcy licked her parched lips. "Because…you are standing here, cher, I take it…Samir's…al Sahood's... attack failed…."

"Yes it did, Colonel," Mac replied trying not to let any emotion creep into her voice. She found it odd that Darcy had corrected herself like that…maybe the scrambled thoughts of a dying woman. "And we found and destroyed his missiles."

Darcy nodded her head slowly. "And…Commander…Rabb?"

Mac steeled herself for Darcy's satanic grin.

"He was shot down, Colonel."

Darcy Livingston didn't smile. "I…I'm…sorry…so very sorry that…happened, cher." Mac thought for a moment the mastermind behind all the mayhem that had been going on in the 36th was going to weep. Was she trying to play on her emotions? Mac was determined not to let her even have this little victory.

No smile, though, came to Darcy's ashen face. Instead, she seemed…concerned.

"Was…he…badly injured?"

After playing cat and mouse mind games with this woman for the past few weeks, the JAG Corps lawyer wasn't sure whether she wanted to reveal this information or not. She paused, uncertain what to say.

Darcy seemed to know what she was thinking. "You…you're…afraid if…you tell me…he's alive…I'll have…him killed…."

The Marine lawyer wasn't sure what to say to that.

Darcy coughed; a trickle of blood ran from the corner of her mouth.

"I…I…understand…your concern…Colonel. No…I…am genuinely glad he…is not dead…."

Mac nodded. It was all she could do at this point.

"And…Colonel …just for…the record… I'm glad…those missiles were destroyed…Alhamdulillah….."

Darcy Livingston smiled for the last time. It was a peaceful look, not satanic, not mocking. Mac checked for a pulse. There was none.

The SEAL who had been standing behind her the whole time, moved to stand beside her. "Ma'am? What did she say?"

Mac sighed. Darcy would now have to face justice in a higher court. "She was glad the missiles didn't fire, Petty Officer," The Marine Corps lawyer replied quietly. "And, she said 'all praise is due to Allah'.

"She was glad al Sahood's attack didn't succeed?" There was astonishment in the young SEAL's voice.

"I believe so, Petty Officer," Mac said softly as they stared at the body of the former Force Recon CO.

**Harm felt a presence** in his room. Opening his eyes, he could see two women in fatigues standing at the foot of his bed. It took a moment for his eyes to clearly focus on the two women.

"Meg?" Harm said hoarsely.

"Good to see you still recognize me, Commander." Meg Austin said with a playful smirk, her blue eyes sparkling.

"It's easier when you're not wearing your headgear, Commander." Harm managed to quip.

"Colonel Drewe sends his condolences on the loss of your Tomcat to enemy ground fire, Harm," Meg said playfully but then turned serious. "But I'm really glad you and your RIO made it out all right."

"My government also wishes to express its condolences on the loss of your aircraft, Commander Rabb." The dark haired Lieutenant Dumai added, thinking that Meg was serious about the official comment. "And they would like to extend their sincere thanks for what you did. We are in your debt."

Harm cleared his throat and shifted uneasily in his padded cot. "Ah, well, thank you…both of you."

Meg turned to her partner. "We'd better let the Commander get some rest, Lieutenant."

Lieutenant Dumai nodded. "We have to meet with Captain al-Bazz. He provided invaluable help with this operation. Good bye Commander."

Harm nodded to Lieutenant Dumai. "Good bye Lieutenant." She smiled as she left the room.

"Take care of yourself Commander,"

"You too, Meg,"

She just smiled again and headed out of the room with Lieutenant Dumai.

**Fleet Hospital - 17**  
><strong>Expeditionary Medical Facility<strong>  
><strong>An Nasiriyah, Iraq<strong>

Bud Roberts hoped that he wasn't too late. 36th MEU Pharmacist Mate, Nick Hazon, had been sent here after he'd lost his right leg when an insurgent had fired an RPG rocket into the 36th MEU's Tactical Operations Center command and control HMMWVs.

The junior JAG Corps officer knew that Hazon had been kept under heavy guard since Lukens' and Buell's Court Martial revealed Captain Lewis and Colonel Livingston may have had a hand in Lieutenant Dodge's death. He just prayed that they hadn't transferred him to the hospital ship just yet.

It was a given that Hazon's injuries had ensured, at least for him, that the war was over. But what concerned Bud more was the fate of Saddiyah, the little Iraqi girl that Nick had befriended.

The Colonel and the Commander had determined that Saddiyah had actually witnessed a Marine [later determined to be Captain Jacques Lewis] shooting down FIREFLY ONE and then killing Combat Engineer Lieutenant Dodge.

Up to now, Dr. Roh Soong, the head doctor at Coalition Aid Station Charlie, had been able to convince the CO of the Korean contingent that he and Saddiyah needed protection from Darcy Livingston's henchmen.

But as soon as Bud had heard that Colonel Livingston and Captain Lewis had been captured, he knew that protection for both of them would eventually disappear and that the Corpsman would turn his attention back to getting Saddiyah out of this country.

Bud though, wondered if this was such a good idea. Sure, this country was still plenty dangerous, but it was the girl's native country. Even though Nick Hazon had promised Saddiyah's mother that he would take her to America…was this really the best course of action for this girl?

Maybe it was none of his business, but the young Naval officer wanted to talk that over with the Corpsman. At least he hoped he got the chance to do that. He had driven like a madman to get here as soon as possible.

Bud walked as quickly up the hall of the medical facility as his damaged leg would let him. He caught the eye of a Major who was standing at a nurse's station.

"Lieutenant?" She said quickly, the tone of her voice indicating her concern as she focused on Bud's right foot.

"I'm fine ma'am," Bud hurriedly explained. "Can you direct me to Corpsman Nicholas Hazon's room?"

She gave one last look at Bud Robert's oddly turned ankle. "Follow me, Lieutenant…."

**Special Agents Tony DiNozzo and Leroy Jethro Gibbs** were keeping a wary eye on the wounded prisoners who were sitting in the cargo area of CH-46 Phrog as it flew towards An Nasiriyah.

Acting 36th MEU CO Baxter had wanted to get these men out to the Expeditionary Strike Group in the Gulf as soon as possible. He didn't want to chance letting them stay in Mirbullah and possibly escape, so Gibbs had assigned Tony and himself to make sure they got to the prisoner transfer facility at An Nasiriyah.

Commander Coleman could finish up with the rest of Darcy's gang in Mirbullah.

But some of the wounded al-Qaeda soldiers and Saddam Fedayeen needed medical care before they were turned over to the detention facility on USS Oriskany.

Tony just hoped the Marines would understand that wounded enemy combatants in good condition would look better in the eyes of the media than wounded mistreated enemy combatants.

"Gunny, Agent DiNozzo, we're here," replied the CID Staff Sergeant to the two NCIS Agents over the whine of the rotors.

The trip had taken less time than Tony thought it would. He must've been more exhausted than he thought; otherwise he would have felt themselves landing.

"C'mon, DiNozzo," Gibbs said as he urged the wounded prisoners out of the helo's cabin.

Tony looked back in the cabin at their big prizes, the head of the al-Diwaniyah al Qaeda cell and his second in command guarded by the Staff Sergeant and his subordinate. "Boss? What about al-Sahood and al Harib?"

Gibbs looked back at the CID Staff Sergeant. He nodded.

Gibbs grinned. "We'll catch up with them, Tony. They won't be leaving without us…."

**When the two NCIS Agents** had left with the wounded, Samir turned to the Staff Sergeant.

"Thank you for taking care of my men, Staff Sergeant," Samir said obsequiously

"You are a very honorable man, for an infidel."

The Staff Sergeant grinned right back at the terrorist leader. "And you're a pretty nice guy, sir, for a cold blooded killer."

"Cold blooded killer? Hammad scoffed. "We are on a holy mission! You Americans are all alike-" Hammad began spluttering.

"Now that's where you're wrong, sir," The Staff Sergeant said as the smile froze on his face. "You see, Special Agent Gibbs may want to bring you and your friend here back alive, but I wouldn't have any problems shooting both of you dead *right here and now,* and claim you both were trying to escape."

The two terrorists did not say anything. They both had noticed that the two military policemen had taken their weapons off safety.

"Funny thing, you thinking you're on a holy mission, when the local Imam… what's his name, Corporal?"

"Ayatollah al Barani, Staff Sergeant." Both men noticed that the young Corporal had a look of barely contained fury on his face.

"Yeah, that's right," The Staff Sergeant said chuckling and shaking his head. "Al Barani. Anyway, it seems his son joined your insurgents in that little riot you and your friend caused in Mirbullah a few days ago…and he was killed there."

"That is not my fault," Samir said defensively. The Staff Sergeant was pretty sure this was the first time this slug had ever been on the defensive about anything. "Besides if his son died helping our cause, then he is Shahid; a holy warrior in the eyes of Allah."

"Ah, but I don't think that's the way the Ayatollah sees it. What he sees is that you got his son killed…and you know what that son was doing at the time?" The Staff Sergeant paused for effect. "…why he was slaying some women who had tried to stop the riots…. No, I think the Ayatollah; he's really pissed at you, sir. Issued a Fatwa, I think is what he did…."

"That's right, Staff Sergeant," the Corporal added as additional verification of the story. "Ayatollah al Barani issued a Fatwa against Samir al Sahood and his entire cell and anyone allied to him."

The Staff Sergeant was still talking in a friendly, folksy voice to the two men. "And just so you know where we're coming from with all our venom, sir….I had a cousin…that is- I lost a cousin, at the World Trade Center and Corporal James there…well, one of his nieces was badly injured in your attack on JAG Corps Headquarters. So just give us a reason, sir. *Give us a reason*."

Samir and Hammad kept their eyes trained on the two Marine military policemen. They had no doubt now that the Staff Sergeant and the Corporal would do as threatened.

**Bud and the Head Nurse** must've looked in a half dozen rooms before they finally found Nick Hazon with Saddiyah. It seems they had transferred the Corpsman without her knowledge. The Corpsman had his phrase book out as he tried to talk to the little girl. The junior JAG Corps officer was almost moved to tears by the tender scene.

"Saddiyah…The Corpsman consulted his phrase book, "…this book is yours."

The girl cautiously took the coloring book in her small hands.

"And these too." He handed her the crayons.

Saddiyah's features were filled with puzzlement.

"For me?" She finally said in halting English.

"Yes," replied Nick in her own tongue. "Come up here on the bed and I'll help you…."

Saddiyah got on the hospital bed, mindful of Nick's partially missing leg. Carefully, she opened the book and took out one of the crayons. Nick took out a crayon as well. In a few minutes both were coloring the images on the page.

"Uh Corpsman Hazon?"

Nick looked up to see that JAG Corps lawyer and Head Nurse standing by the open doorway. "Lieutenant Roberts! Uh sorry sir…you remember Saddiyah, don't you sir?"

Bud took an awkward step forward. "Yes I do, hello Saddiyah-"

Saddiyah's eyes grew big as she focused on the military man's oddly turned right ankle. She drew closer to Nick.

Bud looked at her reaction and then down at his damaged foot. "Oh, sorry…um, tell her it's okay, it's a plastic and composite foot…not real."

"He's not suffering, Saddiyah," the head nurse said gently to the little girl in her native tongue. "Come, let's go down the hall and get a drink, all right?"

She held out her hand to the little girl. Saddiyah looked from the Head Nurse to Nick.

It's all right Saddiyah, Nick assured her, "the Lieutenant just wants to talk to me…"

Saddiyah nodded and reluctantly got off the bed and left with the Major. When the door was closed, Bud began apologizing again. "Really, I'm sorry about the foot…I tend to forget…."

"It's all right Lieutenant, really, it is…." Nick replied. "She's just a little skittish, that's all. So what did you want to talk to me about? The leg sir? Do you think I might still be able to get active duty? You know, not as a Corpsman, but maybe something in a hospital…."

Bud really didn't know any other way to start this conversation. So he just dove in. "Well, I'd like to talk to you about Saddiyah, Corpsman."

Nick sat up in bed. Anger and indignation curled his features. "I knew it…I knew my CO would never let this adoption go through-"

"No, Petty Officer, it's nothing like that; Bud said working quickly to calm Nick Hazon. "In fact, your CO signed the paperwork approving your custody of Saddiyah…." Bud knew with things as chaotic as they were in Iraq right now, the interim government worked closely with the military on matter such as these.

Nick relaxed when the JAG Corps officer relayed that information. "That's good to hear, Lieutenant. Did you have something to do with that?"

Bud looked around uncomfortably. "Uh no, I didn't Petty Officer…in fact, Saddiyah is the reason I'm here."

Nick, who had settled back on the bed now jerk upright again. "She is? What is this about Lieutenant?"

"Petty Officer, I'm sure because your CO and the adoption agencies here have signed off on the paperwork for Saddiyah that you are more than capable of taking care of her…"

"You're damn right about that, sir" Nick said becoming defensive. "So what is the problem?"

Bud took a breath and just blurted out what he thought. "Petty Officer…have you really thought through adopting this little girl?"

Nick wasn't expecting that question. "Saddiyah? I promised her mother that I would take care of her and I will too-"

Bud held up his hand. "Just hear me out, Petty Officer…not as an officer or lawyer, but as a concerned parent. You know you have a lot of physical therapy and counseling ahead of you, don't you?"

Nick nodded. "Actually I had thought about that, sir, and I talked to my sister in Newport News. She can take care of Saddiyah when I can't…."

"Which will be a lot of the time for the next few months, Petty Officer. I should know," Bud said looking down at his own damaged artificial leg.

"Sir, the only family she has right now, is me! I can't just abandon her because of my leg-"

Bud again held up his hand. "You're right, Petty Officer, but think also about this; can you give her a better home than someone with a deserving family that is already here?"

"Lieutenant, in case you haven't looked out a window lately this whole country is a war zone! Where the hell is she going to live here without being touched by the violence that's going on all around her?"

Bud stood silent for a moment. "I don't know, Petty Officer, I just know that you have a long road ahead and I'll help with that any way that I can. But you also need to consider Saddiyah's needs. Talk it over with Dr. Soong. He might be able to give you an unbiased opinion."

Nick was silent for long time as if chewing over what Bud had said to him. The young JAG Corps officer hoped that Nick Hazon would understand what Bud was trying to get him to see. At last, the Corpsman sighed heavily.

"Sir, if anyone else would have said this to me, even my CO, I would have had the urge to deck them…but you're just trying to help…I know that…I'd like to think over what you said…one parent to another…all right?"

Bud stepped forward and put his hand on the man's shoulder in a friendly manner.

**-TBC…**


	87. Chapter 86

…For Meritorious Service, Chapter 86

A/N 1: Thanks to my trio of editors [Mary Ann, Janlaw and Karen] for their usual fine job. Kudos also to AeroGirl, Mkim, Soleil, TZ, Janlaw for providing their help and technical expertise. Also thanks to Lisa Griffon [Yahoo Shipper Group] for her continuing support.

**Fleet Hospital - 17  
>Expeditionary Medical Facility<br>An Nasiriyah, Iraq**

**Tony was sitting out in the hallway**, waiting with his two prisoners, both Saddam Fedayeen. The organized chaos of the facility and possibly the odors of iodine, sulfa drugs, disinfectant, and soap were making them look a little self-conscious and possibly even scared while sitting next to the NCIS Agent. Or it might be they were scared about what the Americans might do to them, no doubt their comrades had told them horror tales about what would happen to them. It didn't help that a stern looking Gibbs had already taken three others [with an armed escort] in to get x-rays. For all these Fedayeen knew, Gibbs had taken them to be executed.

So now it was just a matter of 'killing time', so to speak, while waiting to get these guys examined by a doctor and x-rayed. Tony looked around; no newspapers or magazines – but then this was a hallway and not a waiting room. Doctors, nurses, orderlies, and patients wandered back and forth past them.

The former Baltimore police detective could have played mental television trivia, but it was more important to keep an eye on his two skittish prisoners. Every once in a while one of them would give Tony a furtive glance and when he looked back they lowered their eyes to the floor.

Since Tony didn't speak Farsi and only pidgin Arabic there was no use trying to talk to them. So they all settled for an uncomfortable silence.

Presently two extra-large, muscular MPs walked up to Tony and his two prisoners.

Tony gave them his winning smile as he stood up. "Gentlemen…"

The beefier of the two MPs looked blandly at NCIS Special Agent. "You must be Agent DiNozzo. We're here to escort the prisoners down to see Doctor Rojas in 12B,"

"Wow, I have a reputation," Tony quipped, but no one laughed or smiled. "Well, I'd guess I'd better go with you guys."

"We'd rather you didn't, sir," replied the less beefy guy.

Tony continued smiling. "Oh? And why is that?"

"We can take care of them, sir, and we understand the situation you are in. They are just going to be checked over by Doctor Rojas."

"The situation I'm in…well that's certainly an awkward turn of phrase…" Tony looked for the other MP for an explanation.

"It's not so much that we rather you didn't" added less beefy. "You helped out the 36th this morning that goes a long way in our book, sir."

Tony thought about arguing with them, I mean, after all, they were his prisoners. And Gibbs would have his head on a platter if anything happened to them.

Then he noticed a cute brunette nurse sitting down the hall a little ways from them with a little Iraqi girl who appeared to be on the verge of tears. The girl seemed to be trying to ignore the nurse and concentrate on coloring in her book.

Talking to this brunette seemed like more fun than watching frick and frack here get an examination and besides having been around Gibbs for a while had made him more sensitive to kids' needs.

"Okay guys, you can have them, but if they come back busted or folded or spindled or otherwise messed up I'm going to come looking for you." Tony thought his voice sounded like a blend of Eastwood, Wayne and Willis. At least he hoped so.

The two giant MPs looked at each other [more amused by the Agent's tough guy talk then intimidated] and then at the DC MCRT Special Agent. "Don't worry sir." Beefier guy said in a serious voice. "Better that they talk to the CIA then have some sort of accident."

"All right, I'll tell the nurse…" he said pointing to one of the passing nurses "to keep tabs on you guys."

"Yes sir," Beefier guy answered. He and his partner gathered the two prisoners and escorted them down the hall.

Tony put on his best smile and walked down to the brunette nurse who seemed to trying to have a conversation with the little girl and was failing miserably.

"I take it you're new at this?" Tony began – not his best opening line, but it sounded pretty good at the moment.

The young brunette looked up and smiled. Saddiyah stopped coloring in her book and stared at the agent.

"I'm watching her for a patient," the brunette explained She had to admit she liked his smile and good looks - he looked like a young George Peppard or Robert Wagner. "She's worried that's something's wrong with her friend and I've been trying to reassure her."

Tony sat down beside Saddiyah as she continued looking at her coloring book. "Who's her friend?"

"Pharmacist's Mate Nicholas Hazon; he was injured in the riots here earlier in the week…"

Tony looked at the picture she had been working on. He tried to recall what Gibbs would do in situation like this. Then he remembered what he had said to that little boy who had lost his parents in a murder-suicide case a couple of weeks back. He'd had been doodling on a sketch pad Abby had given him.

"That's very good." Tony said to the girl. Saddiyah liked the sound of his voice. It sounded a lot like Nick. She gave him a small smile.

"That's the first smile she's had since she came out here," gushed the nurse. She hoped she didn't sound too effusive.

Tony gave her his winning smile again. "I'm very good with kids," he said lying through his teeth. "By the way, I'm Anthony DiNozzo, Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, but my friends call me Tony."

"Well Anthony DiNozzo, Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo," she replied teasingly "would you mind staying with us until the JAG Corps officer finishes with her friend?"

Tony looked around. "Where's her family?"

The nurse smiled sympathetically. She hated telling this part. "Dead. Pharmacist's Mate Hazon is all she has…"

Tony digested that. "Oh…well, yeah, sure."

"Thanks; and by the way, I'm Kim, Lieutenant Kim Fields." She said mimicking his verbal miscue and then suddenly feeling shy about doing so, maybe because she found him attractive and didn't want to chase him off the way she did to most men she met.

"Well Kim, Lieutenant Kim Fields, what do you say to asking her if she needs help with her coloring?"

She gave him a flirty smile. "We can ask her."

Tony nodded and started to ask the girl permission in her native language, "What do you say…" then he looked back up at Nurse Fields. "Um, what's her name?"

"Saddiyah…" Kim whispered

"Well, uh, Saddiyah, what do you say, can we help you?"

Saddiyah giggled at the agent's attempt to speak her language, but she was pretty sure she knew what he meant. She opened the book to a blank page and gave Tony and Kim a crayon each. She pointed to Tony and then the lower half of the page and then to Kim and pointed to the building on the page.

"Looks like I got stuck doing ground work…." Tony pouted pretending to grump about his 'assignment' - much to Saddiyah's delight.

Kim laughed softly, "I'm sure you'll do a good job Tony."

Tony gave her another of his winningest smiles of his in return. "Thanks Kim."

Saddiyah liked seeing them smile at each other. She grabbed another crayon and began working on the animals populating the page.

"DINOZZO!"

Tony shot out the chair like someone had poked him with an electric cattle pod

"YEAH BOSS!" he shot back as he scrambled awkwardly to his feet.

"Where the hell are your prisoners?" The Senior NCIS Agent demanded.

"Down the hall being examined by Doctor Rojas, boss!"

"Why aren't you with them?" he asked pointedly as only Gibbs can do.

Tony began his explanation innocently enough. "Well boss, Lieutenant Fields here asked me to help-"

Gibbs deftly slapped him on the back of the head, cutting his explanation short. "Go get them!" he growled.

"On it Boss!" Tony said as he scooted down the hall.

Gibbs looked down the stricken child and the stunned Lieutenant. "He was supposed to be guarding some dangerous prisoners!" Gibbs hadn't been on the defensive like this in a while. Seeing the woman and the little girl staring at him irritated him further.

Kim Fields stood. "Sergeant Nader and Corporal Stone could more than handle them, Special Agent-"

"Gibbs, NCIS" The senior Agent said brusquely, flipping open his wallet and showing her his badge and ID.

"Well Special Agent Gibbs, as I was explaining; Stone and Nader wanted to repay your agent for his service to the 36th this morning…and Tony volunteered to help me with this little girl…."

"Tony…?" Gibbs said sounding angry and confused at the same time while he stared pointedly at her.

She quickly averted her eyes from his steel gaze. "I-I mean Agent DiNozzo…"

Gibbs noted the little girl was giving him as mean a look as she could possibly muster. Kelly had done that to him a time or two when he had to discipline her. He could see Kelly in his mind's eye giving him her infamous [as he called it] death stare. Sometimes Gibbs would fake dying just to make her smile.

He squatted down in front of her. "He works for me; he was supposed to be guarding some dangerous men." He explained gently to her.

"She doesn't understand English very well…" Kim said coldly, obviously rebounding from the dress down given to her by the senior NCIS Agent.

Gibbs reached up to his uniform lapel and pulled off his subdued special agent service pin. Clipping it together, he gave it to the girl.

Saddiyah held the service pin like it was a dead bug.

"Here," Gibbs said gently, "It's a pin; you put it on your shirt; like this…"

Kim was touched. How could a guy act like a total jerk one minute and be so sweet and tender the next? "It's okay Saddiyah," she reassured the girl in her native tongue, "he's sharing with you…"

Gibb took the corner of her shirt near her chest and Saddiyah placed her hand on his as he carefully placed the service pin on her shirt.

While Saddiyah and Gibbs shared a smile, Tony came walking back up the hall with his two prisoners.

"Got my prisoners and am ready to go, Boss. Doctor Rojas was just-"

Tony stopped his ramble when he saw Saddiyah fingering the service pin her boss had just given her. He felt a twinge of jealousy at the way she was responding. Saddiyah had been the first kid not to despise his approach. He had to admit to himself that he really wasn't that great with kids, but he'd hit it off pretty good with Saddiyah, so seeing her react the way she did with Gibbs seemed a little unfair.

That's when Saddiyah looked up and smiled at Tony, holding out her shirt so he could see the pin. The senior NCIS Agent looked up at his Senior Field Agent.

Tony gave her that special smile he reserved for the girls. "Hey, that's some nice pin you got there. Did you thank my boss for giving that to you?"

Saddiyah turned and, in very rough English, spoke to Gibbs. "Tan-Tan Kew…"

Nurse Fields was floored. Gibbs didn't know what say at first. He looked at the girl for a moment. "You're welcome." He said stiffly. He looked back at Tony and then stood up.

"C'mon, let's go." As they both walked away with their prisoners who were obviously relieved they hadn't been killed yet, Gibbs turned back to Kim. "Excuse us, Nurse."

As they started down the hall, Saddiyah got up from her chair and scrambled after them.

*~*

**Outside in the 100 plus grit-filled heat** the two NCIS Agents were hustling their prisoners back on board their waiting helo.

The Phrog crew chief motioned with his chin. "Looks like you've got a groupie, Special Agent…"

Gibbs turned and saw Saddiyah staring wide-eyed at the helo. Nurse Fields was directly behind her. "Come on Saddiyah," she quietly urged her back toward the door. "We need to go back inside…"

Tony and Gibbs exchanged a glance. "I'll get them on board, Boss; you go talk to her…" Tony said in an uncharacteristically soft voice.

But his answer surprised the former Baltimore police detective. Gibbs smiled and shook his head "No," the Senior NCIS said as he took the prisoners toward the helo.

Tony stood there awkwardly for a moment, not sure what to do.

Gibbs looked back at his senior field agent. "Go on, DiNozzo," he added motioning him toward the two women.

Kim Fields and Saddiyah looked across the field at Tony who started to approach them.

"Here; you'll need this," Gibbs said as he tossed what looked like a rolled up towel at Tony.

Special Agent DiNozzo caught the 'towel' and looked back at Gibbs who nodded and then ushered the prisoners into the Phrog whose rotors had slowly started to turn.

Lieutenant Fields squatted down next to Saddiyah. "Wait for him to come here," she whispered in her ear and then looked up with a bright smile as Tony DiNozzo approached.

Tony squatted down in front of Saddiyah. He hadn't noticed it until now but she had a roll of paper tightly clutched in her hands.

"What do you have there?" Tony asked the girl.

Saddiyah suddenly hugged Tony fiercely, and then turned away from him, taking the 'towel' but not before shoving the rolled up paper into his hands.

The former Baltimore police detective was speechless as he continued kneeling, not sure what to do next. Kim Fields walked up to Tony, squatted down and slipped a piece of paper in with the rolled up sheet.

"Call me," she said into his ear. "I'll be at Bethesda next Thursday…." and then hurried after the little girl who had gone inside.

Tony slowly stood up, turning around as he did and pocketing the slip of paper. As he looked across the tarmac, he saw Gibbs standing in the side doorway of the CH-46. He and Tony exchanged nods as the Senior field agent walked over and climbed on board the idling helo.

As Tony got himself strapped in, he looked back at the hospital. There by the door stood Saddiyah wearing a right sized NCIS t-shirt. She and Kim were waving. He unrolled the piece of paper and looked at it. It was the picture she had been working on so industriously.

In one corner was a hospital bed with a man on it. On the bed next to him was a helmet with crude Red Cross on it. That had to be Hazon. Outside the building which also had a cross on it was the green grass Tony had colored. Kim had helped Saddiyah with the animals but let her do the people by herself.

Tony could see there were other people on the page as well. A primitively drawn armored car and three smiling people standing by it. The names in English on the paper read 'Sari' 'Harm' 'Dr. Soong'.

His breath hitched when he noticed the crude crayon drawing of Nurse Fields and a guy with 'NCIS' written on his shirt holding hands with a little girl.

Gibbs watched as his Senior Field Agent carefully rolled up the paper and put it inside his shirt. His mind replayed back to another time when Kelly had given him a similar picture….

**~~**~~**~~**

_What's this honey?_

_Picture for you so you don't forget us, Daddy…_

**~~**~~**~~**

**It was only a short deployment**, but to Kelly it would seem like a lifetime.

In his mind's eye he could see himself holding the crudely drawn picture of their house and Shannon and Kelly standing beside it. Above them was a plane with an American flag on it. The plane was labeled 'Daddy'. Gunnery Sergeant Gibbs had teared up and only by using his Marine will power was he able to leave the house without watery eyes.

As Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs sat back in his seat on board the helo, tears trailed silently down his face.

*~*

**"Okay…sound check, one, two…that's good…and we're live in three… two… one…**Today America extracted revenge for the brutal terrorist attack against the Judge Advocate General's Corps Headquarters in Washington, DC just a little over a week ago that resulted in the deaths of over twenty civilian and military personnel…."

Brad Holliman stood facing Sully and the camera, a look of grim determination on the young reporter's face. Stuart Dunston was glad Brad had agreed to do this. The bit about the deaths was a little much, but you had to get the public's attention any way you could. He made a mental note to tell Brad to next time say 'Navy and Marine personnel' rather than the cold and impersonal 'military personnel'.

"Dubbed Operation King Cobra, a subordinate military operation to Operation Desert Scorpion, US forces raided an Iraqi fortification previously thought abandoned during the opening days of the US invasion of Iraq…."

As Stuart continued to watch the live broadcast, Mac and Bud came up and stood beside him. As they stood there, Faith Coleman and Captain Natalia 'Lawboss' Seranovich joined their little group.

"Counselors." He acknowledged. They nodded back.

Brad was on a roll. "Calling in air strikes from carriers USS Patrick Henry, USS Reprisal and USS SeaHawk, along with helicopter gunship attacks from US Marine and Coalition forces as a pretext, US forces raided the fortification, resulting in a deadly four hour battle with former regime remnants as well as Ba'ath militia…."

"I hope this meets with your definition of cooperation, counselors." Stuart said quietly as Brad continued. "My bosses in New York will want to know why I didn't give the public more."  
>"Giving you this next bit was as much as we could do," Natalia said firmly. "There is a war on, you know."<p>

Brad continued his report, oblivious to their conversation. "US and Coalition forces' casualties included at least one F-14 Tomcat reportedly being shot down, as well as several Marines injured in the resulting firefight."

"Colonel, could I ask for an exclusive interview with Commander Rabb?" Stuart asked.

"You could, but it would be denied." Mac gave him a smirk. "Operational security."

The ZNN reporter half-chuckled, half snorted. "I figured as much," he said sourly.

"I hope our agreement is still intact…." Faith said the sentence in such a way that Stuart could tell it was more a question rather than a statement.

"You have my word Commander Coleman." The ZNN reporter replied evenly. "You held up your end of the bargain." He turned to Mac again. "Thank you for the exclusives."

"Our pleasure Mr. Dunston." Captain Seranovich will provide you with access to the Coalition and Marine personnel involved in this battle like we agreed."

"Thank you, Colonel."

"You're welcome."

"This is Brad Holliman, ZNN, at the Marine Forward Operating Base near Mirbullah, Iraq."

Stuart groaned as the words left the young reporter's mouth. "Great; all he had to do was say was 'at the 36th MEU Battalion Aid Station' but no, he had to go and say that…."

"Sounds jazzier," Bud offered with a faint smile gracing his face.

Stuart shook his head disgustedly. "Yeah, I guess…" he turned to the reporter who was now off camera "Hey Brad, come here…."

As Brad and Stuart critiqued the report, Mac sighed. "I'm going to check in on the Commander…."

How is he doing, ma'am?" Natalia ventured

"Not bad for being blown out the cockpit of his Tomcat…a little shorter, maybe…. She said as an afterthought. Then she grimaced, thinking about Harm's prior ejections or 'hard landings' as he'd sometimes called them. At first she had wanted to say something witty, but then she realized she really couldn't joke about something like that.

The Staff Judge Advocate nodded. She knew first-hand about the side effects of aircraft seat ejection. "Well, tell him everyone on the Patrick Henry wishes him well, including Captain Ingles, ma'am."

Mac gave 'Lawboss' a sardonic smile. "He won't believe that, but he'll like hearing it; thank you, Captain."

"My pleasure, ma'am, I'd better get ready to sheep herd my reporter entourage; by your leave, Colonel, Commander, Lieutenant…"

'Lawboss' headed over to Brad and Stuart who had just finished their 'discussion'.

As Mac turned to leave, Bud stopped her. "Ma'am, how is Colonel Briggs? And have you heard from the Admiral?"

Mac sighed again. It had been a long hard day. "He's under sedation at the moment, and no Bud, I haven't. I imagine The Admiral must have his hands full at the moment…."

"Ma'am?" He pressed. Basically he had been in the dark since the 36th went after  
>al-Sahood and his terrorist cell.<p>

Mac understood his need to know. "Harriet told me that Tiner and Sergeant Givers helped Alan and John Burford capture two spies in the JAG Corps Headquarter offices."

"They did?" Bud wondered why Harriet hadn't told him, but he'd save that for later.

"Two spies?" Faith wanted to know more. "Working for Colonel Livingston?"

"Yes," Mac said to both questions. "And I think the Admiral is busy figuring out how to put the best face on the spies' arrest and their upcoming hearing."

**1131 Zulu  
>JAG Headquarters<br>Falls Church, Virginia**

**Harriet's Ford Aerostar minivan pulled in right behind** Commander Alan Mattoni's JAG loaner Ford LTD.

"Thank you again for the ride ma'am," Jennifer said as she undid her seatbelt.

Harriet smiled at her. "You're welcome Coates; and thank you for your help with little AJ this morning…"

Jen smiled shyly as she opened the passenger door on the van. "Not a problem, ma'am, glad to do it."

Harriet grabbed her purse as she opened her door. "I don't know why he was being such a grump this morning…."

Jen chuckled. "We all feel that way some mornings, ma'am."

Harriet found herself chuckling at that as well. "True, Coates, very true."

As they got out of the van, they saluted Alan Mattoni who returned their military greeting.

"How are you doing this morning, Lieutenant?"

"Ready for a day in court, sir."

Alan's eyebrows rose to the tip of his cover. "Indeed." He then whispered to both women in a conspiratorial voice. "Well, I figure it won't be too long of a day," Ignoring their astonished looks, he nodded at them. "Ladies,"

"What do you think he meant by that, ma'am?" Coates asked as soon as the JAG Corps attorney had left their presence.

Harriet Sims watched as the attorney walked over to Commander Burford's Mustang convertible as it pulled into a nearby parking space. "I'm not sure, Coates, maybe trying to shake us up before we get in there…."

"You mean bust our chops, ma'am?"

"Exactly."

"Well he doesn't bother me, ma'am."

"Me either, Coates." Harriet said firmly.

The two women watched as Alan Mattoni exchanged comments with Commander Burford as he stepped out of his car. They were quickly joined by Major Clemons who had just arrived. She looked a bit flustered at first to see Commander Mattoni conversing with John without her.

The three talked for a moments and then Alan returned Carly's and John's salutes and headed inside.

"Wonder what that was about, ma'am?" Jen asked, her curiosity piqued.

"We'll find out soon enough, Coates." They walked over to the two remaining attorneys still standing in the JAG Headquarters parking lot.

"Good morning Commander, Major." Harriet said as she and Jennifer Coates saluted smartly.

"Lieutenant; Petty Officer," John returned.

"Petty Officer, do you have the copy of the surveillance tape?" Carly got right down to business.

But Jennifer was ready for her this morning. "Yes ma'am, Major, along with the transcript of Corporal Bannion's and Corporal Dells's interrogations."

"Very good. Coates." Carly praised, taking Jennifer somewhat by surprise. She turned to Harriet. "Lieutenant, how are you feeling this morning?"

"Ready to kick some, ma'am" Harriet replied fiercely.

Her unusually strong response resulted in raised eyebrows from both Coates and Burford. Carly Clemons though, looked pleased.

"Outstanding!" Carly replied just as fiercely, "We'll see you ladies inside."

A somewhat bewildered Harriet and Jennifer saluted and went on inside.

John gave his erstwhile partner a sidelong glance. "I thought you two didn't get along," he observed as he walked with Carly.

The Major gave the Commander a knowing smile. "We have a common interest," she said obliquely.

"Besides your dislike of each other?" John quipped. He just couldn't resist.

Carly reached out and slapped his shoulder playfully, then pulled her hand back as if she had scorched it.

John could hear the embarrassment in her voice. "Sorry," she said quickly. He could tell that she regretted slapping him, be it in jest or not. "I shouldn't have done that."

"Hey, it's okay," he said to her softly as he turned her around to face him.

Carly's features softened. "Look; we need to talk," she said quietly, "but right now, let's focus on nailing these slugs, agreed?"

John didn't know what she meant, but she was right; Chegwidden would ship them off to some far northern outpost if they didn't do their best on this case.

He nodded. "Agreed."

Carly gave him a pleasant smile as he opened the door for her. That certainly was different; usually she gave him a surly look or grabbed the door away from him – it was one of the reasons he'd stopped coming in at the same time she did. There was definitely something going on with her. Well, the time to worry about that was not right now—she said they would talk.

As Carly and John entered the courtroom, they saw Alan Mattoni and the Admiral conferring with their clients.

AJ had not gotten much sleep at all except for the 20 minute catnap he took on his office couch before getting ready for this morning's hearing. He had stayed long enough at NCIS to make sure that Harmon Rabb and Sarah MacKenzie were okay, but he couldn't stick around to see the end results of the battle. He'd have to check into that later.

When they entered the Admiral stood and looked at both of them. "Commander, Major."

"Admiral," they said greeting him. Alan motioned for the Sergeant-at-Arms and two MPs to come over to the table. Alan quietly conferred with the court officer and the MPs who nodded.

AJ turned towards Tiner, Givers, Harriet and Coates who were busying themselves with getting ready for the hearing. "You four," he said to them, "walk with us."

The Admiral and Alan led the little procession outside the room. Carly's eyes asked if John knew what was up. He shook his head 'no'

AJ stood beside the three attorneys. "I'm taking off my Defense hat for a moment."

He fixed the junior officer and three non-commissioned officers with his steely eyes stare.

"We haven't had much time to follow the usual protocol in this kind of situation so I'll just be blunt; I want to know right now if you four can do this; because if not, we can find someone else."

Harriet and three non-commissioned officers looked at each other and back to the Admiral. Harriet spoke for the group. "We'll work with our respective attorneys to do the best job possible, sir," she replied.

"That's good, Lieutenant. It's the kind of answer I expected to hear," AJ said as he nodded giving that faint smile of his that he was so famous for. Then he turned to the others. "But if you take on this assignment and I catch even a whiff that you are trying to undermine our case or Commander Burford's case by not doing your best, I'll personally take you down to Norfolk and have you keelhauled. Do you read me?"

"Aye, aye, sir" all four replied in unison.

AJ nodded his satisfaction with their response. "Good. Now I'll put back on my defender's hat. Let's get back inside."

Both groups returned to their respective tables.

As the clock approached 0952, Harriet and Jason busied themselves with looking through the evidence listings while Jennifer and Marla looked through the witness list again. The Admiral and Commander Mattoni conferred on what appeared to be their opening statement.

John looked at the clock. At precisely 0955, Commander Amy Helfman entered and made her way to the bench.

"All rise!" called out the Bailiff. "The Honorable Commander Amy Helfman is now presiding!" Both groups of attorneys and the defendants stood.

She sat down, opened her laptop and began reviewing her notes for the hearing. Everyone else took their seat as well.

Commander Helfman looked out at both Counsels. "I remind you both that this is an Article 32 hearing to determine if there is sufficient evidence for a trial, not a trial. Will the accused and their counsel please rise?"

She turned her heard towards Major Clemons. "Trial Counsel, are you ready to begin?"

Carly acknowledged the Judge. "We are your Honor."

Helfman turned her eyes to the Admiral and Alan. "Defense counsel?"

The Admiral nodded to Commander Helfman. "We are ready, Your Honor."

Commander Helfman looked at her notes one last time. "Then let's get started."

Carly stood again and opened the hearing. "Docket number 6151326,VR-9. The United States versus Corporals Mitchell 'Mickey' Bannion and Lance Dells. The accused are charged under the UCMJ with violations of Articles 106 and106a, Espionage, 108, Theft of and Destruction of Government equipment; 121, Larceny and Wrongful Appropriation and Article 128, Assault."

Judge Helfman looked from Major Clemons to the Admiral. "Does the defense wish to enter a plea for the accused?"

The Bailiff who had left the courtroom for a moment now was trying to get Commander Helfman's attention. The military judge nodded and he quickly and quietly approached the bench and handed her a hand written note.

She looked at it and then turned her eyes to the attorneys. "Counsel, will you approach the bench, please?"

Both sets of attorneys walked up the bench, not sure what was going on. Commander Helfman handed the note to the Admiral.

"This was just confirmed by the acting Chief Medical Officer for 36th MEU," she said simply.

AJ Chegwidden took the note and unfolded it. He scanned it briefly before folding it up again.

"Admiral?" Alan probed carefully.

The JAG addressed the small group in a low voice so the rest of the persons present in the courtroom couldn't hear. "Colonel Livingston is dead; her rogue unit is in custody, as is Samir al-Sahood and what's left of his terrorist cell."

Without waiting for anyone to say anything else, he looked at Commander Helfman. "Your Honor, may we have a moment to confer with our clients?"

The Commander looked like she wasn't going to grant this request. She hated interrupting court proceedings but she knew that Albert Jethro Chegwidden would not make such a request unless it was absolutely necessary.

"You have your moment, Admiral." she replied.

AJ smiled graciously. "Thank you, your Honor."

Alan and AJ approached the two Corporals.

"So what was all that about, Admiral?" Mitchell Bannion began. His tone reminded AJ of snake oil salesman.

AJ chuckled "Well, we just got some interesting news – thought we would share it with you and your partner,"

"Yeah, well whatever it is, it don't interest me." Lance Dells snorted and turned away from the JAG Corps attorneys.

AJ ignored the rude response and focused on Bannion. "Well, it seems that the 36th MEU survived the chemical attack Samir planned, in fact, it never really happened…."

The two corporals looked at each other. "Yeah? So?" challenged Lance Dells.

AJ and Alan were really beginning to dislike Dells. Bannion shot his 'buddy' a nasty look.

"Lance, let him talk, all right?" he said cuttingly.

Corporal Dells hissed his disgust with his 'friend'. "Whatever…"

Bannion started to say something else to Lance Dells but thought better of it. He turned his attention back to the Admiral who was waiting patiently for them to finish their little chat. "What do you mean, sir, 'it never really happened'?"

AJ didn't care much for Bannion either but at least he pretended to be respectful – even if he wasn't. "Force Recon, that is, those not loyal to Colonel Livingston, was able to call in an air strike and destroyed the launchers before they were loaded and al-Sahood and his terrorist cell were captured."

"Big freakin' deal-!" Lance began snarling.

But Bannion was not cocky. In fact his whole demeanor changed. He looked desperate – as if someone had sealed all exits and room was filling with water. "Shut up Lance!" he snapped. This time he tone was so sharp that Dells clamped his mouth shut but shot his buddy an evil look. Bannion turned back to his attorneys. "So what happened to the Colonel?"

('The Colonel'…) AJ thought sourly, (he's loyal to her to the end.)

"Your friend, Colonel Livingston, is dead" Alan Mattoni retorted bluntly.

All the color drained from Bannion's face. "Dead?" Even Dells' surly countenance was diminished somewhat by this news.

"How? What happened?" Bannion looked as if he was having trouble breathing. Alan wondered if the man was going to go berserk or have a heart attack.

The JAG knew the look he had seen it countless times before. His lady love was dead. To garner such loyalty, Darcy must have bedded half the men she'd used. "She was mortally wounded in a gun battle with the loyal Force Recon members, gentlemen. Now as far as I am concerned-"

Bannion shook his head as if trying to clear it. "Admiral, sir, I'd like to change my plea to guilty-"

Lance who had been slouching in seat sat upright. "What? Mick, you're not serious-"

Mitchell put his hand on his buddy's shoulder. "Lance, we're out on a limb here. She's…she's gone. We aren't going to see her again and don't have anybody to help us…we don't have any support-"

Lance gave Bannion furious look. "Look you lovesick idiot, I'm not doing time for that broad by myself-"

Bannion didn't listen to the rest. "Admiral in exchange for a guilty plea," The Corporal continued quickly as if his life depended on it "I'll tell you everything I know about Colonel Livingston and her espionage efforts that opened the door for the attack on JAG Headquarters."

AJ couldn't believe his good luck. "Let's me get this straight; you're asking for sentence limits in exchange for waiving the Article 32 investigation, the guilty plea and cooperation?"

Bannion looked coldly at his friend and then back at the JAG. "Yes sir, Admiral, a plea bargain."

"You're a dead man Mickey, Dells rumbled ominously. "You forget that Darcy and Samir have friends-"

"Are you saying that *you* made it possible for the terrorist attack that took place on *my command*?" AJ's low growl made both Bannion and Dells flinch. They had just admitted to the Marine/Navy Judge Advocate General that they were responsible for Islamic terrorists being able to attack his Headquarters and kill fifteen of his staff.

"We'll give you protection, Corporal; -in return for everything you can tell us about Colonel Livingston's operation." Alan said quickly in a counter-offer to the Admiral's threatening tone.

"I'll take it." Bannion said effectively ending the bargaining.

Now Lance Dells was close to panicking. "Mick! Mickey, you don't know what you're saying, man – they can't protect you – no one can. You know that."

The Admiral looked coldly at this miserable excuse for a Corporal. "On the contrary, Corporal, we can and will."

The JAG turned back to Commander Helfman. "Your Honor, I respectfully request a recess to prepare and deliver a proposed plea agreement to Trial Counsel and the Convening Authority. I know this is highly unusual, but if we can come to terms regarding sentence limitations, Corporal Bannion will plead guilty and fully cooperate with NCIS and Naval Intelligence about enemy combatants involved in the attack on JAG Corps Headquarters."

Alan Mattoni leaned over and whispered in Lance Dells ear. "Corporal Dells, you do realize he won't be court martialed with you? He'll maybe even have a separate date set to testify again you…."

"So noted. And what about Corporal Dells?"

The JAG glanced momentarily at Lance Dells. "We will recommend that the Convening Authority detail other defense counsel to represent Corporal Dells."

Amy Helfman nodded and tapped a note into her laptop. Very well; Trial Counsel, do you agree to the requested recess?"

Carly and John exchanged a wordless glance. Carly turned back to the military judge. "No objections, your Honor."

"So noted; Counsel, this hearing is adjourned to reconvene at my call; counselors-"

Before she could finish, Lance bolted out of his chair. "What? He's not being court martialed and I am?"

"Order!" Amy said banging her gavel. I will have order in this court! Counsel, remind your client he is in a court of law and should act accordingly!"

The JAG looked over at Lance Dells with a cruel smile. "Agreed, your Honor. My apologies. Bailiff, will you have the Master-at-arms escort the Corporal back to the Brig?"

As the Bailiff and the Master-at-Arms approached, Lance Dells broke. "Waitaminnit, wait a damn minute, I wanna make a deal too!"

-TBC...


	88. Chapter 87

THE FINALE…For Meritorious Service – Epilogue – Chapter 87

A/N 1: Thanks to my trio of editors [Mary Ann, Janlaw and Karen] for their usual fine job. Kudos also to AeroGirl, Mkim, Soleil, TZ, Janlaw for providing their help and technical expertise. Also thanks to Lisa Griffon [Yahoo Shipper Group] for her continuing support.

A/N2: Well, here is folks; the last part of the epilogue. As you know there still some threads that need to be tied. I did this on purpose so I could have continuity between this story and the new one I've been working on for a while that will bring together the JAG, NCIS and NCIS LA universes- because in reality, they are all really part of the same universe. Thank you Donald P. Bellisario, Charles Johnson, Don McGill, and Shane Brennan for sharing your creations with us.

**The Navy/Marine Corps JAG pinned Dells with a stony look** as he crossed his arms across his chest. "You want to make a deal? And, uh, just what kind of *deal* do you want to make?"

"You want names, I'll give you names." Dells said pinning the JAG with a desperate look.

"Not good enough, Corporal," AJ Chegwidden was looking him up and down like he would a failing SEAL recruit in BUDs training. "Your buddy Corporal Bannion has already agreed to that and more. Master-at-Arms! Get this slug out of my sight!"

"N-No wait, d-don't! I know way more than Bannion does! Really! I-I was on the inside, I can give you names, places, contacts, even people that indirectly involved in the attack!"

Alan Mattoni decided to play good cop, or this case 'good JAG' to AJ's 'bad JAG'. "Give us a minute," he said to the surly looking Master-at-Arms then turned back to Dells "Okay, what do you mean, 'you were on the inside'?"

Lance thought there might be salvation for him yet. "Mitch may be able to name some names, but he wasn't in on the planning!" He said bluntly

"That's a damned dirty lie!" Bannion said heatedly as he moved threateningly toward his erstwhile 'partner'. Alan's hand shot out to restrain him.

The JAG wasn't about to have a 'he said/he said' duel in the courtroom. "Lock it up, you two! Now!" AJ growled at Mitchell Bannion and Lance Dells.

This was his way of letting Bannion know that just because he was turning on Darcy and his pals, that didn't win him the 'golden sailor award'.

Amy Helfman banged her gavel impatiently. "Counselors!" She gave AJ the 'Judge eye'. "I'd like to give you that recess you requested, Admiral, unless you rather-"

AJ Chegwidden, using all his lawyer skills, made his words flow out like soothing ointment on a burn. "My sincere apologies, Your Honor, but it seems Corporal Dells wishes to propose a plea agreement based on new information that has just come to light."

Amy was not pleased there seemed to be a lot of 'new evidence coming to light' at the last moment; but if the other traitor could be turned as well, this circus might be worth it. She eyed the JAGs and the accused for long moment. Then as if giving in, she motioned to them. "Counselors and accused; approach the bench…"

The four lawyers and the two sailors again walked over and stood in front of Judge Helfman's bench. She looked down on the six.

"Unless some kind of agreement can be reached in the next few minutes, I'm going to throw you all in the brig," she warned.

AJ nodded his understanding. She may only be a Commander, but Amy Helfman could only be pushed so far. That's why Admiral Morris had selected her to preside over cases here at JAG Corps Headquarters; she was a fair and ethical judge, but she also did well in unusual situations and this was one of those situations.

"Understood Your Honor," AJ said as humbly as he could. He shot Alan a quick look. "We would like to amend our previous statement and request a recess to prepare and deliver a proposed plea agreement to Trial Counsel and the Convening Authority, I know this is highly irregular, but if we can come to terms regarding sentence limitations, both Corporal Bannion and Corporal Dells will plead guilty and fully cooperate with NCIS and Naval Intelligence about enemy combatants involved in the attack on JAG Corps Headquarters."

Judge Helfman stared stonily at the two miscreant sailors. "I expect nothing less." She said simply. She turned her eyes to Major Clemons and Commander Burford. "Trial Counsel; do you have any objections to the amended request for recess?"

She and Commander exchanged another quick glance before speaking. "No objections, Your Honor."

Amy Helfman quickly followed up. She didn't want anything else prolonging this little 'get together'

"So noted; Counsel, this hearing is adjourned to reconvene at my call. Step away from the bench," she said to her assembled group.

As they did, she banged her gavel. "This hearing is adjourned, but to be reconvened at my call," she said to the people in the courtroom.

As murmurs filtered through the room about her decision, Commander Helfman made another brief note in her laptop and then turned it off.

"All rise!" pronounced the bailiff. Everyone in the room stood as Judge Helfman left the room.

When she had left, John looked at Carly. "So, do we talk now?"

Carly shook her head quickly. "No, later…." She said quietly.

"How much later?" He pressed. He knew he was pressuring her, but John felt this had gone on long enough. Plus he had to know why her sudden turnaround.

She gave him a slight smile. "This evening at McMurphy's Pub, all right?" She said hoping her mock irritation didn't sound too much like the real thing.

The Navy/Marine JAG walked over to their table. "Well, Commander, Major; I trust you are disappointed with the way things turned out…."

"Mixed feelings, sir," Carly said quickly. "I would have liked to nail them, but I also want to catch the bastards that trashed your command."

AJ nodded thoughtfully and folded his arms across his chest. "I see; Commander, how do you feel about what happened here today?"

"I would have liked to nail them - fish in a barrel - sir, but the Major is right; we need to catch all the members of the terrorist cell – even if it means forfeiting a slam-dunk case."

AJ Chegwidden gave him a piercing look. "And what makes you think it would have been a slam-dunk case, Commander?" I didn't hear anything from you or the Major except the charges leveled against my clients. Nothing substantial as far as I concerned to make me think you had a real case."

John Burford was never one to back down when challenged. But before he could Carly answered for him. "Your clients committed treason, Admiral. By all rights, they should be in Charleston or Guantanamo. And we didn't present any of our evidence because your two clients made a deal with the government which we agreed to honor-"

"But if they renege on the deal, Admiral, we'll see to it that they face life at hard labor."

The Navy/Marine JAG gave them both a smile that held no warmth. "Is that a promise, Commander?"

"No Admiral," John replied with his own 'no warmth' smile. "That is a guarantee."

AJ Chegwidden nodded his head thoughtfully. "Good," he said brusquely and strode out of the room.

**2004 Hours Local**

**McMurphy's Pub and Grill**

"**I miss going to Benzinger's…."** Carly said wistfully as she looked around the room.

"You do?" John wasn't sure what to say to that. In fact, this whole meeting had him on shaky ground. She still hadn't said why she wanted to talk to him here – or why she was suddenly being so nice to him.

"Yeah," she said with a nostalgic smile as she sipped her beer. "-went a couple of times before law school with Tiner and the others…" John could tell she was cherishing the memory.

"You know why we didn't go there tonight, don't you?" John didn't know what else to say. As soon as it came out of his mouth he regretted saying it.

She nodded as she took another sip of her beer. Obviously, she didn't think it was a dumb thing to say. "Yeah; the Admiral declared it off limits after what happened with Singer…"

The name of the dead JAG Corps officer said out loud left Carly and John silent for a moment.

"How about you….?" Carly began in the middle of her thought.

John looked at her with a puzzled look. "How about me, what?"

She laughed softly at her faux pas. "Did you ever go there?" she said elaborating on her previous question.

Now it was John's turn to chuckle. He nodded. "Yeah, a few times…good sandwiches…" He took a pull on his beer because he didn't know what else to do at this point.

"Yeah; great sandwiches…" she said in agreement and went back to studying her bottle.

John could see this was going really well. So much for communication. He sighed. "Yeah…."

"So?" He said inquiringly, giving her an opening.

"So?" she repeated back to him, it was obvious she didn't know what he wanted.

"As I remember, you wanted to talk…" he prompted. John hoped he wasn't too sharp with her.

"Yeah; yeah, I do," She said concentrating on the words on her beer bottle for a moment, as if she was working up her courage and then she looked back at him.

"Carly-" John was feeling self-conscious; maybe this meeting had been a bad idea.

"John, I'm sorry for being such a jerk." Carly blurted out hurriedly. The admission left them both without words. Carly started studying her bottle again. John was surprised by her statement.

"Well," the Navy attorney began, but she quickly cut him off.

She sighed and put her bottle down. "Look, this is not easy for me to say; I came back here to JAG Corps with a chip on my shoulder the size of Abrams tank, just daring anyone to knock it off."

"Hey, it's okay…" John said softly, for some reason, he took her hand and held it. She didn't resist.

The JAG Corps Major gave him a haunted look. "No; no, it's not okay…" Her pregnant pause made him wonder what else she was going to say.

Carly looked into John's eyes. Were hers filled with regret? "You never did anything to deserve the way I treated you…." She drifted to a stop again, waiting to hear what he had to say about her comment.

John Burford smiled gently. "I understand, Carly; you had a lot on your mind…."

She gave him a harsh chuckle. He thought at first she was going to pull her hand away, but she didn't. "Oh yeah; Captain Franklin Ross Seibert – please don't remind me…."

"Why? What happened?" John was concerned at her sarcasm. He wanted to ask her if he had done something to her hurt her. Why, he didn't know.

Carly shook head as if she didn't want to explore this any further. "He played me; that's all." She said simply.

"Played you?" John now felt anger-indignation towards Captain Seibert. After all, she had tried to help him -when everyone else had abandoned him.

She chuckled dryly. "Like the proverbial fiddle. And I fell for it."

"You mean he was guilty?" John said incredulously. He let go of her hand. Did he see disappointment cross her face?

"He was. Wanted me to get him off. Said it was a mistake. I did some checking before everything went to hell. He was guilty. He had wanted me to get him off and make the blemish on his record 'go away' and I fell for it. I always do when it comes to guys I fall in love with."

John didn't know what to say to that. In fact this whole conversation had turned his view of her on its head. Maybe that's what she wanted, maybe she was playing him.

It was as if she was reading his mind. "I know you're wondering if I'm just saying all this to get sympathy, and maybe part of me would love to see where we could go, but no, I just wanted to clear the air between us. Are we good?" She waited for him to respond.

He was torn. Something inside of him wanted her to know that a relationship wouldn't be bad thing but he also understood how she felt. He had been there himself not so long ago. She needed a friend and partner right now more than a hot bunk mate.

John gave her another gentle smile "We're good. How about some dinner before we leave?"

She smiled warmly at him. "That would be great."

**Operation King Cobra, D-Day + 1**

**36th MEU [GATORFORCE] Battalion Aid Station**

**Somewhere south of Objective India**

**Mac was sitting on a chair next to Harm's bed**. Bud Roberts and Sturgis Turner were standing on the other side. Harm was not happy, but then he never did make a good patient.

"I don't see why I can't get up," Harm groused, "I'm fine."

Mac put her hand on his chest, stilling him. "Harm you ejected from a disintegrating Tomcat and have a possible concussion; don't you think that's enough adventure for one week?"

"She's right buddy," The Bubblehead quipped, "Getting up right now might not be a great idea…"

Harm turned to longtime friend at JAG, the former Public Information Officer for the SeaHawk, for solace. "Bud, a little help here?"

Bud tried hard to hide his mischievous grin. "Sorry sir, I'm siding with the Colonel and the Commander on this one."

"A guy can't catch a decent break," grumbled Harm as he shifted in bed. He looked at the three of them who seemed to be enjoying his predicament.

"Okay, ha, ha," he said drolly. "Look; I'm fine Mac; all of you; I'm fine. I've ejected before-"

"You should listen to the Colonel, Commander; she has your best interests at heart…"

Everyone looked up to see Dr. Roh Soong, Saddiyah's other unofficial guardian, standing at the doorway. "May I come in?"

"By all means, Doctor," Harm replied, hoping that now that there was a professional in the room, he'd get a second opinion – despite the doctor's initial comment.

The four made room for the new visitor. "Bud, Sturgis - you remember Dr. Soong, from Aid Station Charlie?"

Both men shook the older Korean doctor's hand.

"I came to see how the Commander was doing…Saddiyah was worried about you."

"See Harm, women of all ages are concerned about your health…" Sturgis quipped. Mac covered her mouth to stifle a girlish giggle.

"Don't you have a tank or two to chase down?" Harm said with mock snideness, referring to Sturgis' part in stopping Al-Sahood's armored surprise.

"You know, I may just ask the Admiral for a change in designator, ole Buddy; I kinda enjoyed the thrill of it." The Preacher's son said jocularly.

Doctor Roh laughed softly at their joshing.

"So what really brings you down here Doctor? Want to give me a second opinion on my current state of health?" Harm asked hopefully.

Doctor Roh shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Commander. You should at least stay in bed through the rest of the week – give your body a chance to heal…."

"Don't forget your surgery in the morning for your hand, Sir." Bud added.

"Thanks a lot, Bud." Harm said dryly. This time Mac chuckled.

"Why, you're welcome, Sir." Bud said with as straight a face as he could possibly manage.

Dr. Soong and the others chuckled again. This time Harm joined in the laughter at the good natured ribbing.

"Actually Commander, I came here to thank Lieutenant Roberts for asking Nick Hazon to reconsider his adoption of Saddiyah."

Mac glanced over at Bud as did Sturgis. "And why is that Doctor Roh?"

Dr. Roh gave Bud a gentle smile. "You told him it would be better for a family from this country to adopt Saddiyah, didn't you, Lieutenant?"

Bud noticed all eyes in the room were on him.

"Yes Sir, I did." Bud said somewhat self-consciously as his mentors stared at him. (Just what do they think about my actions?) He wondered.

"And you believe that, Lieutenant?"

"Yes Sir; I do."

"Doctor Soong, if I may ask – why are you asking Lieutenant Roberts all these questions? Do you feel he was in the wrong?" Sturgis Turner asked the question the other JAG attorneys had wanted to ask.

The Korean Doctor shook his head. "No, not at all Commander Turner. In fact, I'm glad he did so. I just finished talking with Nick a few minutes ago and we think we've found someone for Saddiyah…"

"Who Doctor?" Mac asked; her curiosity piqued.

"Come on in," The doctor called out to the closed door.

All four JAG Corps officers stared in shock at the young couple who opened the door and entered the room. The man wore the uniform of the new Iraqi Army and the woman was similarly attired.

Mac was the first to find her voice. "Izdihar? Rafid?"

Doctor Roh smiled proudly and nodded. "Yes Colonel. Lieutenant; Izdihar and 'Arif Rafid T'Lass would provide Saddiyah with an excellent home."

Izdihar looked from Rafid to the young JAG Corps officer. "We are to be married soon, Lieutenant."

When Dr. Soong told us about Saddiyah and Nick Hazon, we knew had to help." Rafid finished for his soon to be wife.

"Nick agreed with us, Lieutenant. Like you said; Saddiyah deserves to grow up in a family in her own country. He will always be welcome to visit Saddiyah; after all, he is her uncle." Izdihar added.

Bud looked at his mentors; they were all silently nodding their approval. Bud turned back to the couple. "I know it's not my place to say this, but the insurgent activity-"

Rafid nodded his understanding of what the young JAG officer was intimating. "-yes, and the car bombs and the sectarian violence - they will all be great challenges, Lieutenant, but Nick wants us to raise Saddiyah-"

"-she will get the best protection possible, Lieutenant. Nick said Saddiyah is considered an honorary Marine and has a battalion's worth of brothers and sisters who will watch out for her."

"-we want to adopt her, Lieutenant Roberts." Izdihar finished for her husband to be.

Bud looked at them with bewilderment on his face. "You're asking my permission?"

Izdihar smiled gently at his confusion. "We're asking for your blessing. Nick told us that the 36th would serve as…Godparents and we want you to be…Godparents as well. I can think of no greater blessing."

Bud looked at his three senior officers who were now smiling. "Go on, Bud," Harm said to his mentee. Bud turned back to the nervous couple.

"I would be honored to give my blessing." Bud said proudly.

Izdihar and Rafid broke into wide smiles. "You will come to the wedding?" She asked and then looked at Mac, Harm and Sturgis. "All of you?"

"We'll be there," Sturgis answered for the group.

**Operation King Cobra, D-Day + 5**

**36th MEU [GATORFORCE] Battalion Aid Station**

**Somewhere south of Objective India**

**Harm gingerly put his weight on the damaged foot**. While not broken, his leg had been

badly bruised. After the Marine medical team consulted with the Romanian surgeon, it was decided to put aviator/lawyer in a walking cast in case there was a hairline fracture.

"How does that feel?" The surgeon asked as he watched him take his first halting steps. Mac was right there beside him ready to give him support if he wanted it.

"A little odd," Harm answered honestly as Mac moved closer to support him as he walked stiffly around the room.

"It's not perfect," replied the surgeon, "but it should work until you get back to the continental United States."

"How about the arm?" Harm asked examining the oddly shaped cast in the sling.

"I want to keep it immobile. I had to put in two pins to hold together the broken bones. You'll regain full use of your hand, but you need to have this looked at in six weeks to determine if you're ready for the pins to be removed."

Mac and Harm exchanged concerned glances.

"You said he would regain full use of his hand," Mac began worriedly.

The surgeon nodded. "Yes, but the damaged ejection seat did a great deal of damage to his hand. You'll need to see a specialist for follow-up. Captain Timas at Bethesda is a good friend of mine; I'll make sure he gets your medical records on this incident. I'll also notify your personal physician about your appointment with the Captain. Timas is an excellent bone reconstruction specialist."

Harm started to move again.

"Easy does it Commander, you don't want you to undo all of our hard work, do you?" The surgeon asked pointedly.

Mac gave him a warning look "You heard him Harm, take it easy." She wouldn't brook him testing the limits of his mobility. Flyboy or not.

"I will, Mac, when we've talked to Captain Lewis and Colonel Briggs," Harm said determinedly. He glanced at the surgeon. "If I promise to use a cane, will you let me go and talk to these people?"

The Romanian surgeon sighed; why was it the Queen always gave him these impossible patients? "If you insist on doing this Commander, then yes, it will make me feel better."

Harm flashed him a grateful smile.

"Don't get too excited Harm about winning this fight," Mac warned, "because if you over-do it, *I'll* be the one who straps you to the bed."

Harm chuckled at her fierceness. He had no doubt she'd make good on that threat if he re-injured himself. "I promise, Mac, I won't over do it."

**36th MEU Detention Center**

**Camp Chesty Puller**

**Mirbullah, Iraq**

**The ride back to Mirbullah had been little bumpier than Harm had expected**. Mac drove, but it seemed she kept one eye on Harm the whole time. For his part, the aviator/lawyer tried not to let the lingering pain from his injuries show through. For once, Sturgis didn't say anything about Harm and his 'testing the limits'. Bud had fiddled with his PDA during the whole drive. Harm figured Bud had a new game he was exploring.

When they arrived, the MPs escorted them to Captain Lewis's holding cell, where the former Captain sat chained to his chair, his hands manacled. Harm and the others didn't protest this handling of this former Marine officer – he was also former DSD and had been directly responsible for over a dozen deaths – and that was just the ones they knew about. He was a very dangerous man, capable of anything.

Jacques Lewis gave them an unsettling smile. Mac felt queasy, but was determined to see this through.

"Captain, you understand the charges against you?" Harm said coolly to Darcy's co-hort. He kept his cane out of the Captain's reach.

Jacques Lewis smirked. "Yeah, yeah; I'm being charged with violations of UCMJ Article 104, aiding and abetting the enemy; Articles 106 and 106a, espionage, yeah, I pretty much get it, Sir."

The 'sir' was not a form of respect.

Sturgis got dangerously close to the man as if he was daring him to try something. "You're also now recognized as an enemy combatant, Captain" Sturgis' use of the word 'Captain' was to remind him of what he had lost.

If Jacques Lewis cared about that or the fact he was an enemy combatant, he didn't show it.

"We all have our reasons for doing what we do, Commander." He said as if explaining a problem to a dunce. "By the way, where is my lawyer and where is Colonel Livingston? Did you send her to Baghdad?"

Sturgis looked at Mac and then back at him. "Colonel Livingston is dead, Captain; she committed suicide rather than surrender."

"She left you holding the bag, Captain." Mac added with a hint of a cruel tone in her voice. It was ploy to make him nervous. But somehow, Mac didn't feel it was all show. Harm's eyes widened at first. Then he nodded.

"Did you have anything you want to tell us?" Harm said sounding genuinely concerned about him and his situation.

"Yeah, yeah, I do." He said to Harm while ignoring Mac and the others. Then he turned so he could look at all of them. "It wasn't supposed to happen the way it did, you know."

"What wasn't supposed to happen the way it did?" Harm said feigning interest in whatever this jerk had to say.

He moved forward on his seat causing his chains rattle. "You know; the finger, it was supposed to point at al-Sahood; not Lukens and Buell…."

Harm, Mac and Sturgis exchanged blank glances.

Lewis rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Oh for the love of- you know, al-Sahood, Samir; he was supposed to have stolen and used an American sidearm and killed Dodge. Get it?"

Bud looked somewhat smugly at the three senior JAG Corps officers. It seemed the theory he had first proposed when they were flying into Iraq was correct. Mac smiled at Bud. He was becoming quite the lawyer.

If Jac noticed their silent conversation he didn't indicate that he did. He continued his rambling revelation.

"…but those two idiots had to screw everything up and fly to 'our rescue' out there…but that didn't ruffle Darcy a bit. She said, 'let them take the fall'. I should have known at the time she was protecting al-Sahood, but at the time we all thought it was perfect – Lukens had already threatened Dodge and we had a string of red herrings to keep you busy – like the thing with Gunny Sanchez…."

Harm held up his hand to stop him. "Wait, what about Gunny Sanchez? Were you trying to ensnare him too in all this?" He vaguely remembered that the Gunnery Sergeant had at one time been considered a suspect.

Jac gave Harm a startled look. "Hey don't lay that racist crap on me, JAG. What kind of person do you think I am?"

Bud excused himself and left the room.

Sturgis sighed as if he had tired of listening to the Captain. Which was partially true. "We'll let the prosecutors at your courts martial decide that, Captain."

Mac gave him a nasty smile. "Enjoy your stay in Charleston, Captain."

Lewis' bravado died. He stoically acknowledged the lawyers as Bud brought in the Marine MPs who unlocked his chains and began to lead him out of the room.

Uncharacteristically, Harm didn't admonish Mac. As far as he was concerned, this guy was pure evil.

When they got outside though, Sturgis took up Harm's usual role. "Mac, you should be more careful what you say to him…."

The Marine Judge Advocate had the decency to look guilty about her recent actions. She wasn't above though, trying to defend them. "I know Sturgis, but he tried to kill all of us – you, me, Bud, and Harm."

"Nevertheless, you can't say something like that to him." The Bubblehead continued calmly.

Mac's bottled up anger slashed out. "The hell I *can't*, Sturgis! Lewis and those other bastards killed Dodge in cold blood, tried to pin it on Buell and Lukens, not to mention they tried to kill all of us and everyone in 36th MEU! And with the help of al-Qaeda!"

"He still deserves a trial Mac," Harm said quietly feeling the shame as well. "They all do…no matter what they did or how we feel about them – even Lewis."

Mac seethed, but he was right and she hated it when he was right about something like this.

She took a deep breath and then reluctantly nodded her agreement.

Bud decided he'd better heal any rifts that were forming – they had all come so far and the wounds of earlier this spring were finally healing – he wasn't going to let them be ripped open again by Captain Lewis or anyone else. He decided to sum up what they all were thinking.

"Well, all I have to say is - thank God it isn't us that have to do this one."

The three senior JAG Corps attorneys looked at him and then nodded. Truthfully, they were all relieved that the Admiral would have to have someone else to handle Jacques Lewis and the other members of Darcy Livingston's gang.

"That's probably a good thing considering everything that's happened here." Harm added somberly.

"Tiner said that Mattoni and Imes will be brought out here to replace us," Sturgis replied adding what he knew.

Mac sighed. "Well, now all that's left is getting the Admiral to talk to Colonel Briggs…."

Bud was confused. "Colonel Briggs? Why Colonel?"

"He's in the early stages of Alzheimer's, Bud," Harm said quietly.

"That explains a great deal," Sturgis had been as confused as Bud about Mac's comment, but he hadn't wanted to probe her given the success of his last effort to talk to her.

"So rather than having Colonel Baxter or us talk to him, I thought an old friend might be better able to handle it than we ever could." Mac finished. She was not looking forward to placing this phone call.

Bud looked at the Colonel. "You're the best one to tell the Admiral, ma'am."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Bud." Mac said wryly.

**Mac had told Harm she needed to handle this by herself.** He had started to  
>protest but she was firm on this point. Reluctantly, Harm had agreed.<p>

It seemed to take forever before the phone line in Colonel Baxter's office  
>clicked. Mac started at the noise and then took a breath. It wouldn't do to<br>have a nervous voice when talking to the Navy/Marine JAG.

"Good morning Sir," she said crisply.

"Colonel, how is it going? How is the Commander?"

"He's doing much better, Sir." Mac appreciated the fact that AJ was concerned  
>about Harm considering the ups and downs their relationship had in the past<br>year.

AJ was now all business. "Good; glad to hear it…is there something else,  
>Colonel?"<p>

Mac wished she didn't have to do this. Twice, she almost backed out. It was  
>only images of her Uncle telling her not to give in to fear that kept her going.<br>"Sir…it's about Colonel Briggs…."

Admiral Chegwidden's tone quickly changed. "What about him, Colonel? Is he  
>still giving all of you trouble?" Part of her was glad that he was concerned<br>for them – it had been a while since she had heard him speak like this…and it  
>only made what she had to tell him even harder to do.<p>

She looked over at the shell of the man who had been CO of this MEU only days  
>ago. "No Sir, nothing like that…Admiral, have you noticed Colonel Briggs<br>repeating himself, being overly forgetful?" Mac hoped her questions would  
>prompt a similar response about his friend.<p>

The Admiral however, didn't think this was something worth reporting. He tried to  
>make it clear he was a busy man. "Colonel, we all get overly forgetful in<br>stressful situations-"

Mac pressed him. "Yes Sir, I know, but there are other things you should know  
>about…."<p>

Admiral Chegwidden was becoming frustrated with her obtuse comments. "What  
>other things, Colonel? You're not making any sense…just what are you driving<br>at?" She could almost hear him saying to her (Spit it out, Marine!)

(Here goes…) "Colonel Briggs…he has the early symptoms of Alzheimer's,  
>Admiral…he had to be relieved of command. Colonel Baxter has been made acting<br>CO…."

There was silence on the other end.

"Admiral…" AJ didn't respond. Mac felt her nerve slipping. She wished now she  
>had disconnected.<p>

"Sir?" She prompted. That niggling worry was starting to grow (I never should  
>have done this, I should have let someone else, a doctor, handle it…)<p>

The voice that came back was low and quiet. "Colonel, are you sure about this?"

Mac braced herself. She had just given some very bad news to her boss about one  
>of his best friends. (Be logical, facts only, Marine) "Without a thorough<br>medical exam and a battery of neurological tests, sir, no; but the unit's medical doctor  
>believes he is and the Colonel admitted as much to me, Sir."<p>

"Oh…I see…" Mac noted that AJ Chegwidden sounded tired…and old.

That was other part Mac had been dreading. She hated doing this to him. He'd  
>had so much disappointment in his life – at least his relationship with Meredith<br>seemed to be going pretty smoothly. "I'm sorry Sir…would you like to speak to  
>him? He's here with me."<p>

"He is? Yes, Colonel, I would, thank you…" The tiredness in his voice made  
>Mac's heart ache, God how she hated doing this….<p>

"Sir, again, I'm sorry…" Was all she could think to say to him. It seemed so lame…

"It's okay, Mac," AJ said gently to her. He knew she was hurting as well. Mac  
>had been his confidant many times in the years she'd served under his command. "Thanks for letting me know…." The Admiral said tiredly with a faint smile.<p>

He felt honored and humbled at the idea of Mac taking it upon herself to deliver this news. She had always tried to help him; probably more than she should, but still, he appreciated that it was her giving him an update on his friend.

"Yes Sir," she said as a tear rolled down her cheek, even as she angrily swiped at the  
>offending moisture. She turned and gave Colonel Briggs a watery smile. "The<br>Admiral would like to speak with you, Sir."

"Are you all right, Colonel?" Ashton Briggs was genuinely concerned about why  
>this woman was crying. He didn't know her, but the Colonel seemed nice enough.<p>

Mac cleared her throat. "I'm fine, Sir; the Admiral is waiting to speak with  
>you." Colonel Briggs nodded and took the phone.<p>

"AJ?" Ashton R. Briggs' voice was shaky and uncertain.

"Ashton, how are you doing?" AJ did his best to sound chipper and upbeat, but  
>there was something off in way he was talking – his best friend knew it.<p>

The former MEU Commander held the phone tightly as if it would slip away from  
>him. "I-I don't know, AJ. I honestly don't know."<p>

AJ Chegwidden was stunned. In all the years he'd known the Marine Colonel, he'd  
>had never heard confusion in his voice. A child-like confusion. It shook the<br>Navy/Marine JAG to the core. There was a long silence

"AJ?" Ash called out like a man verbally reaching for a life preserver.

AJ was immediately there for his friend. "Yes Ash?"

"I'm scared AJ." Brutal honesty. Now that was the Ash Briggs that AJ knew.  
>But it was also an affirmation that something was terribly wrong.<p>

AJ didn't know what to say to his old friend. Emotion took over. "Yeah, I know,  
>Ash, me too."<p>

As their poignant conversation continued, Mac quietly stepped outside. No one  
>was in the outer office. She walked over and sat heavily on the sofa next to<br>the door. It was as if the act of sitting triggered her emotions and tears  
>began to freely run down her face as she broke down, sobbing as silently as she<br>could.

**36th ACE Airfield, Camp Chesty Puller  
>Near Mirbullah, Iraq<strong>

**The Light Colonel had gone to the latrine** and splashed cold water on her face

until it began to hurt. It took another fifteen minutes after that to get her emotions  
>back under control.<p>

When she did she joined Harm, Sturgis and Bud on the drive over to the  
>airfield. Bud drove and Sturgis took the front passenger seat. Harm and Mac<br>sat in the back. Mac kept her eyes forward and didn't say anything the whole  
>trip. Harm knew she had been crying, but decided that if Mac wanted to talk<br>about it, she would, in time.

When they arrived at the airfield, they clambered out and walked to the hangers.  
>Benjamin Lukens and Frank Buell, the crew of Firefly One, were busy doing<br>maintenance on their helo. They looked up and saw the JAG Corps officers  
>approaching. They both stood up.<p>

"Colonel, sirs," Ben Lukens said as he and Buell saluted the JAG Corps  
>officers.<p>

"Lieutenant, I heard that you and Buell saved the day…." Mac said in a  
>surprisingly strong voice given what she had just gone through.<p>

"Well, we didn't do it all by ourselves, ma'am," Ben said with uncharacteristic  
>humbleness. "we had some help…."<p>

"You did an outstanding job out there, gentlement," Sturgis replied,  
>"you're to be commended…."<p>

"We really didn't do that much, Sir," Weapons Officer Buell was as reticent as the Cobra  
>pilot. "It was a team effort, really."<p>

"That's not what your CO said of you two," Harm couldn't understand why these  
>two were acting so skittish, did they honestly think they were still in trouble<br>after all this?

"He's recommending that you both receive Silver Stars for your actions."

Ben looked even more uncomfortable than before. So did Fred Buell. "We  
>honestly didn't do that much, Commander," Ben Lukens said quietly, "we did what<br>any other member of our unit would do…." Frank nodded his agreement.

Sturgis couldn't understand their reluctance either. "Lieutenant, both of you  
>kept at least three, if not more, of your fellow helo pilots from being<br>shot down by deliberately placing your helo between theirs and enemy fire.  
>Captain Maxwell witnessed you doing it at least once and Lieutenant Hafez<br>witnessed the other times you did this. And then you flew into heavy enemy fire  
>during a Fedayeen counter-attack and kept a squad of Marines from being wiped out."<p>

"Lieutenant Hawkins witnessed that one, Sir," Bud added "he said they could have  
>easily been shot down but you chose to stay with those Marines until Lieutenant<br>Hawkins' men could link up with them."

"You showed intestinal fortitude out there, both of you did," Mac wanted them to  
>know how much their actions were appreciated. "So what is going on? Why are<br>you so bashful? This isn't like you two…."

Ben and Fred looked at each other. "Well ma'am, sirs, we just don't want to be  
>in the limelight anymore," Ben said speaking for both of them. "We nearly tore<br>this unit apart and if it hadn't been for you and the Commander, we'd be on our way  
>to Leavenworth right now." Frank nodded again, it was clear that he agreed with<br>the Cobra pilot.

"We're just glad we were able to help," Harm replied.

But Ben wasn't finished. "I can never take back the things I said to Lieutenant  
>Dodge, ma'am, they were wrong-I was wrong. I was so worried about my sister's<br>honor that I became biased against a fellow Marine. I shouldn't have done that  
>and I can't expect that every Marine in this unit, or in the entire MEU for that matter, will<br>forgive me."

"You're being too hard on yourself, Lieutenant" Sturgis saw a little bit of  
>himself in the Cobra pilot at the moment.<p>

Lieutenant Lukens shook his head. "On the contrary Sir, I don't think I'm being  
>hard enough. This whole experience has taught me a valuable lesson."<p>

"And what is that, Lieutenant?" Harm asked.

"That I haven't been the example to Buell that I should be, sir. He  
>should expect more from a senior officer."<p>

"Lieutenant, we all have feet of clay," Harm said in an understanding tone, "the  
>trick is knowing how to deal with it."<p>

"Yes Sir, I understand that now, but I also want to help others with these kinds  
>of situations…and I also want to show him that you have to be accountable<br>for your actions…."

"What do you mean, Lieutenant?" Mac was curious as to where he was going with  
>this.<p>

"I mean, there is something more I can do," He handed Harm a folded letter. "By  
>your leave, sirs, ma'am…"<p>

He walked over to Steve Maxwell who had been walking toward him. "Lukens, I was  
>just coming out to talk to you-"<p>

Ben handed him the letter. "Captain, before you say anything else, I'd like to  
>voluntarily ground myself. Effective immediately."<p>

That took the acting CO of the helo unit by surprise. "Are you sure about  
>this? We need men like you up there…."<p>

Ben nodded. "The past few months have taught me a lot about what I didn't  
>understand. I want to make this right sir; I'd like to request a transfer to a<br>training unit. I think I still have a lot to offer other helo pilots…as a  
>training officer…sir."<p>

'The Blue Max' considered that for a moment. Then he nodded. "I'm still putting  
>you in for a Silver Star and for Buell as well."<p>

Ben gratefully smiled. "I understand sir. And thank you…"

Steve sighed. He knew why Ben Lukens was doing this and he wasn't going to be  
>able to talk him out of doing it. "We'll miss you, Lieutenant." He held out<br>his hand to Ben. They shook hands.

"Yes Sir, but it's the best solution for all concerned…" he looked over at Harm  
>and Mac, who along with Bud and Sturgis, had walked over to them. "Right<br>Commander? Colonel?"

Harm knew what Lieutenant Lukens was doing. He was trying to make things  
>right. "Yes Lieutenant, for all concerned." Ben Lukens went back over to help Buell<br>finish their work on Firefly One as the JAG Corps attorneys silently watched.

Mac's was disappointed by the fact that after all their hard work, Ben Lukens was stepping down, but she had seen it happen before and she, like Harm, knew he was doing it for the right reasons. She was also very sure he'd be back before too long.

**The JAG Corps Officers stood at attention**. In front of them was 36th MEU's  
>reorganized Force Recon unit. The Dodge pickup trucks had been replaced with<br>Mercedes Benz Trackwolf recon trucks. Staff Sergeants' Mark Dallas and Joe  
>Corbin stood in front of the lead platoon, Shark Two.<p>

"Platoon! Ten-hut!" Called out Dallas. "Pre-sent H'Arms!"

Mark, Joe, Kayce and the others members of Shark Two saluted the attorneys as a  
>group, but their eyes were on their leader, Silver Leaf, the Light Colonel<br>Marine Judge Advocate.

Mac was humbled by their salute. She looked at them and nodded. "SEMPER FI  
>MARINES!" She barked.<p>

The platoon, as one, barked right back to her. "SEMPER FI MA'AM! OOO-RAH!"

Sturgis leaned over to Bud. "Eerie, isn't it, Lieutenant?"

"She must have been very good, sir." Bud replied just as quietly as the  
>ceremony continued.<p>

Sturgis grinned. "Of that, Lieutenant, I have no doubt."

After the platoon was dismissed, Harm glanced over at his partner as they  
>started to walk back to their HMMWV. "You know Mac; I don't think I'll ever<br>completely understand Marines…"

Mac gave her best friend a saucy smile. "That's okay Harm; I'll never  
>completely understand aviators either…"<p>

Harm chuckled. "Oh I don't know Mac, give it time…"

She stopped and cocked an eyebrow at him. "I will if you will."

Harm's smile grew wider. "I think I can live with that…."

They were about to climb back into their Hum-Vee when Kayce Danvers walked up to  
>them and saluted. "So this is the jet jockey you were so worried about, Ma'am?"<p>

Harm's eyebrows raised to the brim of his helmet. Bud and Sturgis did their  
>best to pretend nothing out of the ordinary had happened.<p>

Mac merely chuckled at Kayce's seemingly flippant remark. "That's Commander Jet  
>Jockey to you, Corporal," she said with mock seriousness.<p>

"Sorry sir," Kayce said smiling at the tall, good-looking Commander. "But she  
>was really worried about you, so I just had to see this guy for myself."<p>

Mac felt her face becoming hot. Now it was Harm's turn to have some fun.

"So the Colonel was worried about me, Corporal?" Harm turned and cocked an  
>eyebrow at a stoic Colonel MacKenzie.<p>

"Corporal," Mac said in a low warning tone. She looked over at Harm and gave  
>him the same. "Commander…."<p>

But the aviator/lawyer was having too much fun and, unfortunately for Mac, so  
>was Kayce.<p>

"Aye sir," The Recon Marine said smartly, ignoring the Colonel's plea.

Mac wished she could shove the three male officers into HMMWV but figured they  
>would just stall her someway, wanting to hear more from this very talkative member of<br>Shark Two. She could have called the Corporal on what she was doing, but it  
>only make it rougher on her once the four had left the presence of this Force<br>Recon Marine.

That's when Kayce turned the tables on the grinning Commander. "Begging your  
>pardon, ma'am, but if my friend called me a Jarhead, I'd squeeze his head like a<br>grape."

Now all three men had looks of mild surprise on their faces.

Mac had to admire Kayce's gutsiness. She gave her former aide an impish grin.  
>"That's the difference between you and me, Danvers. You see, I know it's a term<br>of camaraderie when he uses it."

"Understood ma'am." Kayce said crisply before turning back to the tall Navy  
>lawyer. Commander, it was an honor meeting you. Thanks to you, and your<br>team, for saving my unit and for clearing Lieutenant Lukens and Chief Buell."  
>She saluted.<p>

"You're, um, welcome, Corporal," was all Harm managed to get out while returning  
>her salute.<p>

As she strode back to the members of her unit waiting for her, Harm and Mac  
>joined Bud and Sturgis in the HMMWV.<p>

**36th ACE Airfield, Camp Chesty Puller  
>Near Mirbullah, Iraq<br>**

**Harm and Mac had their sea bags slung over their shoulders**. Bud and Sturgis  
>were pulling theirs from the back of their parked HMMWV.<p>

Harm let out a long sigh as he hobbled down to the flight line. "It's good to  
>be going home,"<p>

Mac gave him a look, "You mean you don't wish you were in Patrick Henry's crow's  
>nest watching planes take off and land?"<p>

"Nope, I miss my bed," Harm said something akin to homesickness in his voice.  
>Mac could see that Harm was tired but if she had tried to show sympathy he would<br>have just waved her off. She decided that playful bantering was the best way to  
>handle this situation.<p>

Mac chuckled. "This has got to be a first."

"Oh yeah, Marine?" Harm challenged somewhat playfully. "What about you?"

"Well, I don't know," The JAG Corps Light Colonel said thoughtfully. "I *was* leader of  
>my own recon team…."<p>

Delusions of grandeur, Mac." Harm said with some irritation in his voice as he  
>resumed hobbling down the flight line.<p>

Mac gave him a playful smile. You're just sore because you got blown out of  
>your cockpit rather than jockeying a 'Cat the whole time we were here-"<p>

"Colonel, Commander. Thought I had missed you." It was the MEU CO, Andrew Baxter, walking up behind them. Sergeant Jenkins, Colonel Briggs' aide, was with him.

"Colonel Baxter," Harm said as the four lawyers saluted the CO. He returned  
>theirs.<p>

"I'm in your debt, to all of you; for what you did for this unit." He said  
>honestly. "Sorry I couldn't talk to you sooner." They all nodded because they<br>knew he had been busy with after action reports to Brigadier General Thornton,  
>Colonel Cresswell, the United States Joint Operations Command and the<br>Provisional government – as well as getting Colonel Briggs to Baghdad for his  
>flight stateside.<p>

"We were just doing our job, Colonel," Sturgis replied trying to sound humble.

Bud nodded his agreement.

"Sergeant Jenkins informed me about the other footwork all of you did in  
>cooperation with the NCIS Major Case Response Team from Washington. I know it<br>wasn't easy working with Special Agent Gibbs-"

Harm gave the Colonel a wry grin. "On the contrary, Colonel, he was actually  
>very easy to work with; and I think both our teams learned something from this<br>experience."

"That is pleasantly surprising news, Commander." Baxter said in a somewhat  
>relieved voice.<p>

"The Commander is right, sir," Bud added, "I think the DC MCRT appreciated our  
>help and cooperation and I know we did theirs…. We may have even learned a lot<br>from each other." The junior JAG Corps officer added as a final thought.

That last 'Budese' comment lead to a gentle chuckle that rippled through the group. They all knew what he meant. Jethro Gibbs and his Major Case Response Team had been a real asset.

Andrew gave Harm the once over. "How are you feeling, Commander?"

"I've been worse," Harm quipped. Then he became serious. "But if I had to do  
>it again, I would, without hesitation, sir."<p>

"Never had any doubt, Commander," Colonel Baxter replied with a quiet smile.  
>"You saved GATORFORCE – plain and simple." Then he turned to Mac. "And<br>Colonel, you did an outstanding job."

"Thank you, sir," Mac said, as a blush slowly rose in her features. Thank  
>goodness they were outside and the sun could hide her coloring face.<p>

Then he turned to Sturgis and Bud. "And I couldn't have asked for better  
>support; not only what you did in the legal sense, but your willingness to<br>pitch in and help when we needed it. I'll be forwarding commendations to  
>Admiral Chegwidden's office for both of you."<p>

"Thank you sir," Bud and Sturgis replied simultaneously.

Baxter nodded to them. "You're welcome. Colonel, Commander, could I speak to  
>you in private for a moment?"<p>

Harm and Mac exchanged apprehensive glances, and then Harm turned to Sturgis.  
>"We'll be right back…."<p>

As Bud and Sturgis watched, The 36th MEU CO and the two JAG attorneys moved out  
>of earshot.<p>

"Yes sir?" Harm said a little hesitantly.

"The CO of the Rasheed Air Base owes me a favor, so you're getting a Hercules  
>ride back to Baghdad to catch your C-17 back to the States." But before the two obviously relieved JAG attorneys could thank him, he continued. "Also Sergeant Jenkins told me about Corporal Richards spying on you two. Look; we're all adults here and as far as I am<br>concerned, what you faced certainly outweighs any protocol breaches that I may  
>or may not have been made aware of."<p>

"We appreciate that, Colonel-" Mac said quickly wanting to get away from this  
>touchy subject as soon as possible.<p>

But Andrew Baxter wasn't done with them just yet. "Be that as it may, I would  
>strongly recommend you cement the bond, so to speak, and then inform your CO.<br>If he's half the man I expect he is, I think he saw this one coming."

"Aye sir," Harm said a little sheepishly.

"Good luck to you and the Colonel, Commander." He shook hands with both of  
>them.<p>

"Semper Fi, Colonel." Harm added as they started back toward Sturgis and Bud.

"Fair Winds and Following Seas, Commander." Baxter replied with a smile.

**"So, buddy, what did he say to you two that was so private?"** Sturgis asked  
>knowing all along he probably wasn't going to pry the real answer out of his old<br>Naval Academy buddy.

Harm gave his old friend that smile that said 'I wouldn't tell you if you boiled  
>me in oil'. "That he had pulled some strings to get us a C-130 flight back to<br>Baghdad and then a C-17 flight back to Washington, Sturgis."

"Hey," Bud said pointing. "Here it comes now."

The four looked to the north and saw the unmistakable shape of a Navy C-130 preparing to  
>touch down at the airfield.<p>

**As Colonel Baxter and Sergeant Jenkins watched**, the C-130 rolled down the runway  
>and gathered speed for its takeoff. Major Lyle Kelly, commander of GATORFORCE's<br>Bravo company, came up to where they were standing and saluted. As the three stood  
>there, Kelly chuckled as he handed the Colonel a stack of the completed after<br>action reports. "I'll bet you're glad to see those legal weenies leave…."

Andrew Baxter cut an irritated glance toward Lyle Kelly. "Major, those 'legal  
>weenies' as you call them, are as good as any Marines I've ever fought<br>alongside." The Colonel watched the Hercules lift off, set off his flares and then  
>wheel around and turn north. "I'd be more than glad to share a foxhole with them anytime."<p>

Major Kelly was suitably chastised for his rash comment. "Aye Sir."

The trio watched as the big plane winged its way northward.

**Raptor Ready Room  
>USS Patrick Henry<br>Somewhere in the Persian Gulf**

Supergirl sat with Lieutenant Sandy 'Dust Storm' Ribkins and two other recently  
>recovered patients; Undertaker aka LT Commander Jason Cintrelle, and LT Commander<br>Elizabeth 'Skates' Hawkes.

Commander Cintrelle took another sip of his soft drink, and then looked over at his Executive  
>Officer. "So tell me again; what did you see?"<p>

Nicole sighed. Since the first time she had relayed her verbal report to  
>Captain Ingles, the story had spread like wildfire through the whole ship. Sailors<br>at sea are desperate for any news or any diversion, and this qualified as both.

There was an immediate spirited debate that dominated the ready rooms all over  
>the carrier. Attendance at religious services of various faiths went up. There<br>was even an unofficial lottery on whether or not a ghost had really appeared in  
>Hammer's doomed plane. The bets were split 5050.

She began her story yet again. "Hammer and Clyde had just ejected from their  
>Tomcat, I was keeping my eye on them because we saw that shrapnel from the SAM<br>had shredded their restraints. That's when I noticed it… it looked like someone  
>else was in the plane…"<p>

"Someone else?" The doubt in Sandy's voice was still there, even though this  
>was about the twentieth time she had the story.<p>

Supergirl turned to her RIO. "As God is my witness, Sandy, I swear to you there  
>was someone else in that plane. Pitcher saw it too." Unfortunately Pitcher<br>wasn't there to corroborate her story. After the assault on Objective India,  
>Jeff 'Pitcher' Rodriguez had been transferred to the Henry's Marine Hornet<br>squadron when Dust Storm was cleared to fly.

Commander Cintrelle though, was less dismissive. He had been in the Navy long  
>enough to never take anything for granted. "Never mind her; you say the 'Cat<br>righted itself?"

Nicole took another pull on her soft drink, she wished it was beer. "Uh huh…it was  
>like someone had taken control of her, and then she nose-dived toward that<br>Gaskin battery…."

"What about the pilot, could you still see him?" This was the first time Skates  
>had joined the conversation. Unlike Sandy, she seemed to be interested in what<br>Nicole had to say.

Bolstered by this sudden surge of interest, Nicole continued. "Sort of;  
>honestly, it was getting really hard with all that smoke was pouring from that<br>cockpit. Then he or it dived away from me…."

Jason seemed to know what happened next and this was his first time to hear it.  
>"…then he augered in – took out the Gaskin…." But it wasn't a sense for the<br>supernatural; he knew that a dive like that only ended one way.

Supergirl nodded. "Yeah, direct hit; nothing left but a burning pile of  
>scrap…."<p>

She looked down at the root beer foam drifting down the inside of the glass  
>she was cradling in both hands.<p>

It was if she was looking for answers in the suds.

"What did he look like?" Elizabeth said softly. That got her attention. Nicole  
>looked up to Undertaker's RIO and saw encouragement.<p>

"Well, he sort of looked like Hammer, but then again, he didn't…" Nicole didn't  
>know what else to say.<p>

"Facial hair?" Elizabeth prompted.

Supergirl nodded. "Yeah, how did you-"

Elizabeth pulled a picture from the breast pocket of her flight suit. "-Harm  
>showed me a picture of his Dad once. Looked like his spitting image…except for<br>the mustache. Got my husband to fax over a copy of the squadron Rabb senior was  
>in."<p>

Nicole's startled eyes fell on the image and she sucked in her breath. "That's  
>him," she said in a whisper. That's the guy I saw."<p>

Sandy took the photo from Elizabeth and looked at it. Then she handed it back  
>to her. "That is just too weird…." She mumbled as she pushed away from the<br>table and started to get up.

Jason didn't need to see the photo. He knew what was there without even seeing  
>it. "Stranger things have happened, Dust Storm," He said quietly to her.<br>Sandy stopped and looked back at the group. "Yeah, well, no offense, Supergirl,  
>but I'd have to see it with my own eyes to believe something like that…."<p>

Nicole understood her RIO's seemingly unfeeling comments. "I don't blame you,  
>Dust Storm; I would have had trouble believing it too, had I not seen it<br>myself…."

"Skates, what do you think?" Sandy said to her, hoping that the fellow Radar  
>Intercept Officer would support her.<p>

But Elizabeth Hawkes had brushed up against the unusual once before…in the cold  
>waters of the stormy Atlantic in May of 2001. "I think he was there, Sandy,<br>giving Hammer what protection he could…."

**1904 Hours Local  
>McMurphy's Pub and Grill<strong>

Albert Jethro Chegwidden perused the menu selection with a sigh. It was better than  
>Benzingers' used to have, but a part of him still longed to go to the bar and<br>grill that JAG Corps personnel had made their 'hang out spot' since JAG Headquarters had  
>moved to Falls Church in the winter of 1997. He glanced at his watch and<br>wondered where Tiner was. After all, the Petty Officer had requested this  
>meeting.<p>

Jason Tiner appeared at the door as if he had been telepathically signaled. He  
>quickly walked over and sat down in the booth seat opposite the Admiral.<p>

"Sorry I'm late Admiral," Tiner began when AJ put up his hand.

He gave his Yeoman a paternal smile. "It's okay Tiner; I know you have a lot get  
>in order before you leave for Naval Justice School. I figured that's what had<br>delayed you."

"Yes sir," Tiner said tentatively as the waitress placed a glass of water in  
>front of him and left again. The JAG noted his Yeoman's hesitancy and knew<br>there was something else he wanted to say. (Well, he'll spit it out in time.)  
>AJ thought.<p>

AJ looked over his half glasses at the Petty Officer looking more like a kindly  
>old gentleman than the Navy Marine Corps JAG as he handed Jason a drink menu.<br>"So what are you going to have?"

The 1st Class Petty Officer quickly scanned the list. "I'll just have a beer,  
>sir."<p>

AJ looked momentarily disappointed and then nodded his head. "Beer it is."

He motioned to the waitress who quickly came back to their table. "Two drafts,  
>please,"<p>

The waitress nodded while making a note on the Admiral's tab, and then left.

They sat in silence for a moment. Jason shifted in his seat as if he was about  
>to get up.<p>

AJ sighed and took off his reading glasses. "Son, are you going to make me pull  
>this out of you?"<p>

Jason swallowed involuntarily and took a quick sip of his water.

"Sir, I have a problem…." he began.

"What kind of problem?" AJ was trying his best not to let a gruff tone enter  
>his voice. After all, Jason had come to him.<p>

Jason looked helplessly at the JAG. "It involves Petty Officer Coates, sir." He  
>said finally.<p>

AJ put down his drink a little harder than he meant to. The bang of his glass  
>hitting the table made the Yeoman flinch as did the Admiral's growl. "It<br>does?"

Jason shrank back in his seat. "Uh, yes sir…" he said quietly.

AJ took a deep breath; he was never any good at this-his track record with  
>Francesca in these kinds of talks hadn't been that good. He sighed, and worked<br>hard to keep the growl out of his voice. "Go on, Petty Officer, what's the  
>problem?"<p>

Jason took his own deep breath. "Well sir, I think…I think I love her…"

"You do." That came out more as a statement than a question. The JAG had not  
>been oblivious to all the time these two had spent together lately. Not to<br>mention the 'competition between her and Sergeant Givers although that seemed to  
>have died down after the attack.<p>

"And how does she feel about you?" He asked point blank.

The waitress came back with two frosted mugs full of beer and set them down on coasters in front of the two Navy men. Seeing that they were involved in a private, and possibly painful, conversation she murmured, "I'll be back in few minutes for your food order…." and then left.

Jason turned to acknowledge her while he thought about what the Admiral had said. After a moment he said quietly, "I think…I think she loves me too, Admiral."

To AJ 'thinking' and 'knowing' were two different things. "You think? You're  
>not sure?" Especially when it came to matters of the heart.<p>

The Admiral's questioning brought out the nervousness in Jason Tiner that AJ  
>Chegwidden was oh so familiar with. The words tumbled out of his mouth like<br>falling bricks. "Uh, as sure, as I can be, Admiral, without asking her. She  
>told me so – just not in so many words, sir."<p>

AJ chewed on this for a moment. To Jason, the silence was deafening.

"Sir?"

"So you're as sure as you can be?" The JAG replied evenly.

Jason nodded. "Yes sir, Admiral."

Now the irritated JAG took over. "Well then what is the problem, Petty Officer?"

"Sir?"

AJ couldn't understand why his Yeoman was confused. To him it was clear as day what he had to do. "You love her, she loves you; I don't see where there is a problem here, son…."

Jason was quick to make his point. He didn't want the Admiral to think he was wasting his time. "I'm going to be commissioned, Admiral. Then I'll be at OIS and then at NJS. I'll be an officer, sir, and it'll be Fraternization if we stay together…."

"I see…." AJ wondered at first why his Petty Officer hadn't really thought this though  
>– like a certain someone else, he seemed to be hesitant to take that leap. Well,<br>he wasn't going to let another person under his command blow an opportunity at  
>happiness. AJ knew all too well that these opportunities should be grabbed when<br>they appear.

"Yes sir. Admiral, I have to break it off with her, but I really don't want  
>to." Tiner continued, oblivious to the plan forming in the JAG's mind.<p>

"You don't." Again more of statement than a question. Truthfully, AJ hadn't  
>heard the last part. He already knew what the Petty Officer was going to say.<p>

"No sir, I really do love her…." Jason answered honestly.

AJ nodded. "I see; well…I can only think of one thing that you can do then,  
>Petty Officer."<p>

"Yes Admiral?"

"You've graduated from law school and passed the bar exam…correct?"

"Yes sir, I have…" Tiner couldn't see where he was going with this or how that  
>would help.<p>

"Then you are hereby discharged from active duty. Effective immediately.  
>Coates and Sergeant Givers can handle your duties – along with Lieutenant Sims.<br>Have the paperwork on my desk in the morning."

Tiner simply nodded. Discharged from service. He hadn't expected that.

"Then you'll have to marry to her; the sooner the better." AJ was blunt with the young  
>Petty Officer.<p>

"Marry Sir?" Now Jason was stunned and confused. He had just told the Admiral  
>he couldn't marry her and now he was saying that he should get married to<br>Jennifer Coates right now?

AJ smiled. "And because you graduated from law school and have already passed  
>your bar exam, you'll be commissioned a Lieutenant, junior grade. And as such, it<br>won't take effect until next Monday. I can delay the necessary paperwork that long.  
>Call it Admiral's privilege. ." He loved it when he could move mountains for his people.<p>

Tiner didn't know what to say. This was hitting him too fast.

AJ shook his head at his slow on the uptake response. He would have to do  
>better than this at his next posting if he was going to advance within the JAG<br>Corps. "Tiner, if you're married to her when you go to OIS and NJS, it's not  
>fraternization." AJ said spelling it out for him.<p>

"Really sir?" That had never occurred to him. He had been so worried about  
>trashing their careers he really hadn't considered what they could do.<p>

"Did you not look this up, son?" The JAG said pointedly.

"Well sir, I just figured-" Jason Tiner began haltingly.

"Well you figured wrong." The Admiral said brusquely, cutting him off. "Look;  
>I'm having a welcoming back party for Commander Rabb and the JAGMAN team this<br>weekend-"

Jason jumped in because wasn't he supposed to plan all these parties for him?  
>Was he bypassing him because he didn't think he could do the job? "Sir, I'm<br>supposed to help with these kinds of things-"

"Well in this case you aren't." AJ said in a friendly but firm manner meaning  
>there would be no more discussion about this. "Sergeant Givers and Petty<br>Officer Coates are. This is also supposed to be a good luck party for you as  
>well."<p>

PO1 Tiner was flabbergasted…and pleased. "I—thank you sir."

AJ grunted. "Just be there on time and don't foul this up, Petty Officer. You  
>love her, she loves you; don't make me regret getting personally involved with<br>my staff, understood?"

Now Jason smiled for the first time since they sat down. "Yes sir, Aye, aye sir  
>and thank you sir." He said effusively.<p>

Now was AJ's turn to give him another paternal smile. "You're welcome, Tiner. And talk  
>to her about seeing me about one of the Enlisted Commissioning Programs. I've been<br>watching her – she's officer material too."

To say that Jason Tiner was floored would be an understatement. "Uh, y-yes, sir, I will sir." Was all he could manage.

AJ grinned, glad that Tiner was finally getting it. He had his doubts about the Petty Officer in personal relations department because of that fiasco with Meredith's engagement ring. But now it looked as though he had his head screwed on straight. "Now, what do you say to getting something to eat?"

**1820 Hours Local  
>A.J. Chegwidden's House<br>McLean, Virginia**

AJ watched as Marla Givers and Jennifer Coates worked with quiet efficiency to  
>finish placing the table settings and putting out an array of hor d'oeuvres.<p>

"Everything is just about ready, Admiral," Jennifer announced as Marla Givers  
>walked over and turned on the stereo, keying up some soft jazz instrumentals on<br>the combination Stereo-Turntable-Cassette-CD player.

AJ nodded his approval. "Very Good, Petty Officer. Sergeant; will you turn on  
>the lights out on the porch?"<p>

Marla nodded and headed to the French doors at the back of the living room.  
>"Yes sir."<p>

As Marla left to do this, AJ pulled Jennifer to one side. "I hope you-"

Jennifer finished his thought for him. She had learned it was good to  
>anticipate the Admiral's thoughts and intentions. "-brought my civilan clothes? I did<br>sir, but I thought I was supposed to be helping Sergeant Givers-"

AJ finished for her. Some would find what she did annoying. But not him, in  
>fact, he kind of liked that she could that, because he could do the same to<br>her. "-Sergeant Givers can handle the party from this point on. In fact, I  
>told her that would be the case."<p>

PO2 Coates was stumped about the Admirals intentions on this one. "But why sir?"

AJ smiled his all knowing smile. "Because Petty Officer Tiner is receiving  
>commission to Lieutenant, junior grade tonight."<p>

"Oh…."

Jen's heart sank –she had thought he would be made Chief Petty Officer, that  
>would make talking about solidifying their relationship a little bumpy, but they<br>could handle that – but not him being promoted to Lieutenant. He'd be an  
>officer and any future plans they had would mean she or he would have to leave<br>the service. That difference in status couldn't be overcome. AJ detected the tone of  
>disappointment in her voice.<p>

AJ Chegwidden feigned concern. He knew exactly what she was thinking – Tiner  
>was right; she had been thinking about marriage. "What's the matter, Petty<br>Officer, aren't you happy for him?"

"Happy? Oh yes sir!" She exclaimed immediately brightening and nodding  
>enthusiastically. "Absolutely; it's just that-"<p>

AJ cut her off. A little cruel, but he thought the night would make up for  
>that. "What Petty Officer?"<p>

Her senior officer's brusque manner told her it wasn't a good idea to bring up  
>any girlish fantasies with him. "Oh…nothing, sir."<p>

The JAG was momentarily disappointed that Coates didn't fight this more. Since  
>day one she showed everyone in the office that she was a scrapper and didn't<br>back down easily from a challenge. He admired that in her, so seeing her collapse  
>this easily left him a little worried about the plan for this evening. "Don't<br>worry Coates; it will all work out in the end. Now go on and get changed out of that  
>uniform and put on your civilian clothes. You can use my bedroom."<p>

She didn't know what he meant by that obtuse remark 'work out in the end', but  
>the Petty Officer put on her best smile. "Yes sir."<p>

As she headed toward the bedroom, AJ couldn't help smiling to himself. He  
>really did enjoy this kind of subterfuge.<p>

**Jason Tiner was dressed in his brand new Service Dress Whites** as directed by the  
>Admiral. He hoped that they stayed that way at least through the ceremony. It was<br>an unusual dress code for a gathering of this nature, but it was the Admiral's party  
>so-<p>

The door opened before he had a chance to ring the bell. There stood Marla  
>Givers in a waiter's uniform. "Petty Officer Tiner, good to see you." she said<br>smiling.

It took Tiner a moment to gather a coherent thought as they walked into the  
>living room. "Marla, are you doing this by yourself this evening?" Normally the<br>Admiral had Tiner oversee hired the caterers serving as wait staff but right now  
>he only saw Marla.<p>

(Always the gentleman – bet he would volunteer to help if I said yes, but I know  
>better than to do that,) she thought. Her smile got wider. "No, Jen helped set<br>up most of it. My assistants will be arriving shortly," As if on cue, the door  
>bell rang. "Will you excuse me, I need to go answer the door…."<p>

Jason nodded absently as he wandered into the dining room and saw the  
>beautifully set table. "They even have a better centerpiece than I did-"<p>

"Excuse me?" Jennifer said in response to his mumbled comment as she came out  
>of the bedroom, smoothing her skirt and making sure everything was in place.<br>Jason turned around to see Jennifer in red polo shirt and jeans. For some reason she  
>look even more gorgeous even though it was just jeans and a red shirt.<p>

"Jen!" He blurted out as he looked at her. Seeing the look of happy shock on  
>her face at his comment he blushed as he corrected himself. " I uh, mean, Petty<br>Officer, how are you this evening?"

Jennifer fought the urge to giggle at him. Sometimes he was so cute. "I'm um,  
>fine, Tiner. Thanks for asking."<p>

"Why aren't you helping Marla?" He couldn't help it, but his voice did sound a  
>tiny bit accusatory.<p>

"The Admiral asked me to wear civilian clothes and to join the party." She said a  
>little brusquely. She didn't like the fact he was insinuating that she had left<br>Marla holding the bag.

Tiner's color got deeper (Boy, you sure stuck your foot in it, Jason. Let's see  
>if you can get out of this one…) "Uh, I'm sorry, Coates, I didn't mean to<br>sound…for that to come out the way it did. I'm sorry. It's just the Admiral  
>usually has me organizing these things and I-"<p>

He sounded sincere, but Jennifer wasn't going to let him off that easily. "Next  
>time leave the rank off when you ask me something like that. I can see where<br>you might have thought something else, but Marla and I are past that, okay?"

"Okay," he said sheepishly. He hoped he didn't do anything else dumb like that  
>tonight, he wanted this to all go right.<p>

**"Hey; sorry I'm late,"** Pete said as he came in the back door of the kitchen.  
>"What do I need to do?"<p>

Marla gave Corporal Bauer a quick smile as she handed him a tray of hor-d'oeuvres.  
>"Here, take these and set them on the table. When you get back we'll get the caterers<br>to begin serving drinks…"

**Marla opened the door to see Gunnery Sergeant Victor Galindez** supporting a still  
>injured but definitely on the mend Cassie Ramirez. Victor's class A uniform<br>seem to be bursting with ribbons - what he called 'the fruit salad'. She was  
>surprised that Sergeant Ramirez had worn hers, but then Cassie was known for<br>being a stickler for protocol. If the Admiral said for her to wear her uniform,  
>she wore her uniform – injuries or not.<p>

"Gunny! Sergeant! Good to see you!" She said opening the door wider to  
>accommodate them.<p>

"It's good to see you too, Sergeant," Victor said graciously as he helped Cassie  
>walk in. Cassie didn't seem to mind the extra attention.<p>

Marla noted a momentarily grimace cross her face. The tale-tell sign she was  
>still having some pains. "Cassie, how are you doing?" Marla asked<br>sympathetically.

Cassie did her best to hide her pain and smiled at the Sergeant who was  
>obviously worried about her. "Taking it one day at time, Marla."<p>

Marla nodded soberly and then led both of them over to couch where Cassie could  
>sit. It was apparent that Cassie was far from fully recovered.<p>

**The red Corvette pulled in behind Jason Tiner's Dodge Durango**. Mac got out of  
>the car and walked around to the passenger side and opened the door.<p>

Harm and Mac would have come separately but Mac insisted on driving Harm whose  
>arm was still in a cast. The doctor had told him it would come off next week.<p>

Harm was embarrassed that he couldn't be the usual gentleman that he liked  
>being. "Mac, I could've gotten Sturgis to drive me…"<p>

Mac scoffed at his attempt to wave her off. "And you two would have never made  
>it over here…" she quipped. It was fun being the 'gentleman' in this particular<br>case. Besides it was rare when she could make the Commander feel ill at ease in a  
>good way.<p>

Harm couldn't let that slide. "As it was, I didn't think I was going to make it  
>here tonight, Mac."<p>

She gave him a cutting look as they continued up the walkway. "Are you  
>criticizing my driving, Flyboy?"<p>

"I'm just saying you could have slowed down when we came to that last curve,  
>Marine." He couldn't help it and besides, she had been rather lead-footed on<br>the way over here.

Mac laughed off his comment. "You're just miffed because you didn't get to drive  
>and because Dr. Timas wouldn't take off your cast until next weekend…."<p>

That was true.

"That's not true," He lied. "Look, Mac; I didn't mind the act of  
>you driving me," He said by way of elaboration hoping to soften the blow.<p>

She wasn't going to let him get off that easy. "Then why the crack about me  
>driving fast?" She hoped she put the right amount of 'miffed' in her voice.<p>

Harm tried lawyer semantics on his partner. "I minded how you drove me. You  
>were driving fast, Mac." He hoped she got the point without getting mad.<p>

Nope. "Oh really-"

Marla opened the door on the two bickering officers. "Colonel! Commander!  
>Please come in, the Admiral is waiting for you…"<p>

"We'll finish this later, Navy." She replied in a low voice that held a note of  
>retribution as Marla led them into the living room.<p>

"Looking forward to it, Marine." Harm said smiling. He loved verbally sparring  
>with her.<p>

**Pete Bauer opened the door.** "Lieutenant Sims, Lieutenant Roberts; please come  
>in. I'll tell the Admiral you're here."<p>

Harriet Sims smiled graciously even though she felt like an elephant lumbering  
>into the entryway. She leaned over to her husband as Pete turned his back to<br>them.

"Now Bud, please don't get this uniform messed up; it's the last clean one you  
>have right now…." Though it was a different circumstance and different outfit,<br>she was still worried about Bud's perchance for party mishaps.

Bud Roberts patted his wife reassuringly on her arm. "Don't worry Harriet; I've  
>got it covered…."<p>

**John Burford put his Mustang into park** just as a Nissan Pathfinder pulled in  
>behind him and parked.<p>

As the Lieutenant Commander got out of his car, he noticed Carly Clemons getting  
>out of the Pathfinder.<p>

John smiled.

"Would you like an escort to the door?" The Marine Major asked as she closed her  
>SUV's door and began walking toward him.<p>

John closed the door and stood by his convertible. "Are you offering?"

She smiled back. "Well, yes, I am."

"Then I'm accepting." He replied.

**Jason and Jennifer stood on the porch which was bathed in the soft glow** of white  
>Christmas lights as muted jazz drifted out of the living room.<p>

Jason couldn't get over how pretty Jennifer Coates looked. He had to work hard  
>not to stare at her. They stood at the porch railing looking out at the starlit night sky.<p>

Jason stole a look at her. "You uh, look very nice tonight," he said lamely.

Jennifer dipped her head and smirked. "In this?" She asked the dubiousness  
>evident in her voice.<p>

"Yes, you do." He said with sudden conviction. He wanted her to believe that.

That took her by surprise. "Oh."

Jason took her hands in his. "Would you like to sit for a moment?"

She felt her heartbeat quicken as the warmth from his hands spread up her arms.  
>"Sure."<p>

They sat down on the bench next to the railing.

"The Admiral told me this party is part of my going away present from him…."  
>Jason said, then immediately regretting it because it sounded so stupid!<p>

But if Jennifer Coates found his comment dumb, she didn't admit it. In fact,  
>she seemed very interested in the fact. Jennifer looked around and then back at<br>him. "Yeah, that's what he told me too. So, how long will you be, um, gone?"

Jason did some mental math. "Two to three months…" When he saw her expression  
>falter, he grasped at something, anything that would make her feel better. "Hey,<br>you know, Newport isn't that far away…."

But Jennifer was a realist. Her hard life before meeting Commander Rabb and  
>coming to JAG had taught her to accept bad news as inevitable. "But you're not<br>coming back here, to JAG Headquarters, are you?"

"No, probably not." He admitted.

She nodded. "So, where will you be?" Party over. It was fun while it lasted.

Jason thought about that for a moment. "Probably with a carrier group or a TAD  
>with Naval Intelligence or Naval Criminal Investigative Services-<p>

Jennifer felt the disappointment and sadness growing within her. Alone again…

Jason noticed the sad faraway look on her face. "Hey, it's not the end of the  
>world. Jen?" She looked back at him with watery eyes.<p>

She smiled trying to put on a brave face. "It's all right, Jason; you've got  
>your job to do, and the Admiral has given me mine…" her voice, though,<p>

faltered as she bit her lower lip to keep the tears from falling.

Jason couldn't stand to see her that way. "Jen, come on now, don't act that  
>way…"<p>

She shook her head. "I'm not mad Jason, honest. I'm happy for you…really,"

She tried another smile.

Jason looked at her, not sure what to do. "Really? You're not just saying  
>that?" The uncertainty in his voice made her lower lip tremble.<p>

Jennifer took a deep shaky breath and then nodded. "Sure, I'll be okay, look; I get to  
>take your place here at JAG; what could be better…." As she finished a tear ran<br>down her cheek and another and another and soon her shoulders began to shake as  
>she began to softly cry.<p>

Jason didn't know what to do at all now. He couldn't stand seeing her like this  
>and it was all his fault. What he and the Admiral had planned was imploding<br>right in front of him. He had to stop it. He had to get her to listen to him.  
>"Jennifer, oh hey, Jen, please…"<p>

"I'll be fine really; don't worry about me all right? I'll be okay…." She said  
>hoarsely and he didn't believe a word of it. He also couldn't believe this was<br>going so terribly.

Jason took her hands again. He had to stop her before it was too late. "Jen  
>listen to me, please."<p>

She couldn't imagine what he could say to make this better or why she had  
>collapsed so. Part of her was embarrassed and mad that she fallen apart like<br>this. She had faced worse situations than this, so why did this hurt so much?  
>Still, he had worked with her since Christmas 2002, so maybe she should listen<br>to him….

He gave her a tissue from a pack he was carrying. His sinuses had been  
>bothering him earlier. She nodded.<p>

"Okay, I'm listening…." she said as she dried her eyes with the tissue he had  
>produced.<p>

"I'm going away, for a short while, but it's not forever." Did she understand  
>what he was saying?<p>

Jennifer was trying her best to comprehend what he was saying but she also  
>wanted to let him know it was all right. That she understood. "I-"<p>

But Jason Tiner wasn't done yet. "I'm not finished yet. Hear me out, okay?"

"All right." She said nodding.

"It's not forever, and I'm not giving up my apartment here in DC. Not yet  
>anyway. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?" (<em>Please understand what<em>  
><em>I'm saying, Jen<em>)

Jennifer Coates wasn't sure at all what he was saying to her. "I'm not sure-"

"Jen, you're a great lady and I don't want to lose you." He continued. "Promise  
>me I won't."<p>

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Maybe she misunderstood him. "What  
>are you saying Jason?"<p>

He took his high school ring and placed it on her finger. "Just promise me,  
>okay?"<p>

She couldn't dare let herself think what this might mean. "Is this what I think it  
>is?" she said quietly. Sure it was a high school ring, but it was what it meant that<br>was far more important.

He nodded. "It's the only ring I have right now." Regret filling his voice. "I  
>just want to know…will you wait for me? Until we can do this proper, I mean. I<br>want to marry you, tomorrow, if you'll have me."

It was probably the worst proposal in the world that she had ever heard. And the  
>sweetest. She looked at the ring for a moment then fell into his arms and gripped<br>him in a crushing hug.

**AJ Chegwidden looked out at the group of officers and enlisted personnel **who  
>had been able to make the party. Part of him was disappointed that Meredith<br>hadn't been able to attend; after all, he wanted to share her with his family.  
>Family. He had tried to deny that in the last few months, but maybe the attack<br>on his command made him realize that they truly were his family.

As he stood there watching them, a person who had long been absent moved to  
>stand beside him.<p>

"Admiral,"

AJ smiled but didn't turn to look at him. "Roger, glad you could make it,"

"Wouldn't have missed this for the world, sir." Captain Roger Landham, AJ's  
>long absent Deputy Judge Advocate General, said as he watched the JAG Corps<br>Headquarters staff mingle. "I'm just glad my TAD with FJA-NAVFOREUR is  
>coming to an end."<p>

AJ understood why the Captain was saying this. "How's the family, Roger?"

He had to leave his children with his sister when the assignment was given to  
>him. AJ had not been unsympathetic to the fact that Roger was technically a single<br>father, but Captain Richards, Force Judge Advocate at Naval Forces Europe had  
>been dealing with a host of problems, not to mention his wife's deteriorating mental<br>and physical state.

Roger had been the logical choice to help him and was the only person  
>at JAG Corps Headquarters who the Admiral could spare.<p>

DJAG Landham stood at parade rest next to his CO. "Kayla's getting ready to  
>enter first grade this fall. Adam will be entering junior high…."<p>

Roger's eyes fell on Carolyn Imes who was looking surprisingly good for a woman  
>who had nearly been killed when JAG Corps Headquarters was attacked. Carolyn<br>took a sip of her coke and acknowledged Roger's presence with a small smile  
>before she continued talking with Alan and Jacquelyn Mattoni.<p>

Roger Landham nodded and gave her a smile in return. AJ noted the trading of  
>glances between the two officers. "I know it was hard for you, being stuck over<br>there."

"I'm just glad we were able to help by detaining those members of al Sahood's  
>cell who had flown into Heathrow after the attack."<p>

The Navy-Marine Corps JAG nodded. "Hard to believe they thought they could  
>transit through Britain without us noticing."<p>

"Yes sir, hard to believe," Roger said agreement. He noted AJ watching as a  
>puffy eyed but smiling Jennifer Coates and grinning Jason Tiner enter the living<br>room.

He turned to his CO. "Shall we get this boat underway, Admiral?"

"By all means, Captain," AJ returned.

Roger tapped his glass, immediately quieting the room. "Ladies and Gentlemen,  
>could I have your attention, please?"<p>

Everyone turned their eyes toward the Captain and the Admiral.

AJ cleared his throat. "I want to thank you all for coming tonight. For some  
>of you, I know this was a difficult choice for you…" He eyed Carolyn and Cassie<br>in particular. "…and I applaud your courage and determination…. Three weeks  
>ago, this command was tested to its last full measure, not unlike what the attacks of<br>eleven September did to this country. I can't tell you how honored I am to work  
>with ladies and gentlemen such as yourselves, soldiers of your caliber, for your<br>bravery…and your sacrifice. In late August, we will have a reception and  
>memorial for the families of this command to honor those who gave their lives in<br>defense of this country during those dark hours on seven July."

"ATTENTION TO ORDERS!" barked Captain Landham.

Everyone in the room had surreptitiously placed their plates on nearby tables or  
>the floor while the Admiral had been talking. They all snapped to attention as<br>one.

"Lieutenant Sims, Petty Officers Tiner, Coates and Sergeants Ramirez, Givers and  
>Corporal Bauer, front and center!"<p>

Harriet Sims and the others made their way to where the Admiral and the DJAG  
>were standing and stood facing them.<p>

Landham began reading from the note cards he had pulled from his breast pocket.  
>"On 7 July, 2003 Lieutenant Harriet Beaumont Sims, liaison to the Inspector<br>General's Office and Senior Office Administrator at JAG Corps Headquarters, in  
>the face of an al-Qaeda suicide terrorist attack on said Headquarters notified<br>installation personnel of the attack and then risking her own life, and that of  
>her unborn child, and proceeded to lead all non-combat personnel to safety in the<br>face of enemy fire. For her coolness under fire and her willingness to  
>sacrifice her own life and safety in order to secure protection for others, and<br>for conspicuous gallantry in the face of enemy action at JAG Corps Headquarters  
>on 7 July 2003, on behalf of the Secretary of the Navy, I present you with the<br>Meritorious Service medal."

"Congratulations Lieutenant," Landham added.

"Thank you sir," Harriet replied, awed by what was taking place.

She looked to AJ Chegwidden who held a small rectangular leather case. Harriet  
>proudly took a step forward towards the JAG.<p>

He smiled his best fatherly smile as he took the medal out its case and pinned  
>it on her breast next to her other service medals.<p>

"Congratulations Lieutenant," he said quietly and then saluted her.

Harriet's bright blue eyes brimmed with happy unshed tears. "Thank you sir,"  
>she said, her voice heavy with emotion as she returned the salute.<p>

Everyone in the room applauded. Bud looked as if he were going to burst  
>with pride. He couldn't help grinning and clapping the loudest.<p>

Landham paused until Harriet returned to the little group. Then he continued. "On  
>7 July, 2003 in the face of an of al-Qaeda suicide terrorist attack on JAG Corps<br>Headquarters, JAG Corps Petty Officers Jason Tiner, Jennifer Coates, and Marla N.  
>Givers and JAG Corps Security Personnel Sergeants Cassandra Elena Ramirez,<br>and Corporal Peter D. Bauer did knowingly and without hesitation or regard for their  
>personal safety, worked to repel the enemy assault and though being seriously wounded<br>in the process, did, through their selfless actions, prevent this installation from falling  
>into enemy hands and thereby saved the lives of their fellow Marine Corps and Naval<br>personnel based at this installation. For their bravery and because they suffered serious  
>personal injury in the execution of their duties, on behalf of the Secretary of the Navy,<br>I present each of you with a Purple Heart and Silver Star with Combat Valor emblem.

"Congratulations, Petty Officers, Sergeants, and Corporal." Landham added.

Jason and the others were likewise stunned. "Thank you sir," they said, still  
>in shock over what had just taken place.<p>

They walked up to the JAG as he and the DJAG, in turn, pinned the medals on each one of them.

Congratulations and Thank Yous were exchanged. The group of non-commissioned  
>officers quietly stepped back to join a proud and happy Harriet Sims.<p>

The applause this time was more vigorous but Harriet was not hurt by this. They  
>deserved it. Each of them had suffered personal losses in the attack and their<br>actions truly had kept others, both civilian and military, from dying.

AJ Chegwidden held up his hands until the applause died down.

"Sir, may I be allowed a moment?" Jason asked.

AJ smiled that all knowing smile of his.

"Go ahead, Petty Officer."

Jason turned to assembled JAG Corps Headquarters personnel. "Everyone;  
>Jennifer Coates has agreed to become my wife." There were several cat calls as<br>well as cheers and clapping. He held up his hands to quiet them.

"I know this is very short notice, but there will be a marriage ceremony at the Fairfax County Justice of the Peace tomorrow morning; you're all invited to attend if you can."

'Try and keep us from coming, Tiner!" Came a voice from the back of the room  
>Followed by a ripple of gentle laughter.<p>

The Admiral leaned over and spoke into Tiner's ear. "Petty Officer, if I may,  
>there is one more piece of important business we need to finish this evening."<p>

Jason blanched. How could he forget about this? "Yes sir." Then stepped back  
>to join his little group.<p>

The Admiral looked out at the assembled group once again. "As you all know,  
>Petty Officer Jason Tiner has recently graduated from law school and he has also<br>passed the Virginia bar exam. Both of these are great accomplishments and I am proud  
>and honored to recommend Petty Officer Tiner for commissioning in the Judge<br>Advocate General's Corps. After he goes to OIS. He'll continue to the next class at  
>Naval Justice School."<p>

The JAG paused for effect as he looked at Jason Tiner and Jennifer Coates.

"There is one more ceremony that needs to be completed…."

"ATTENTION TO ORDERS!" Landham barked again. As before, all present  
>personnel snapped to attention.<p>

"Petty Officer, with the approval of the Chief of Naval Operations and the  
>Secretary of the Navy, you are hereby appointed to the rank of Lieutenant,<br>junior grade."

Shocked silence radiated through the room. Jennifer Coates was beaming.  
>Captain Landham continued.<p>

"Lieutenant; please raise your right hand and repeat after me:

I, Jason Tiner, having been appointed Lieutenant, junior grade, in the US Navy,  
>do accept such appointment and do solemnly swear that I will support and defend<br>the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic,  
>that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this<br>obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and  
>that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am<br>about to enter, so help me God."

Jason did as instructed. Jen had to work hard to keep from grabbing and  
>squeezing his hand.<p>

"Lieutenant, please step forward."

As Jason stepped forward to the JAG. AJ looked over at Jennifer Coates. "Uh  
>Petty Officer Coates, would you care to do the honors?"<p>

Jen stammered, "Me Sir?"

AJ looked dourly at the Petty Officer. "Do you see any other Petty Officers  
>named Coates around here?"<p>

Mac who had moved to the front of the room with Harm, Sturgis and Bud, nudged  
>Jennifer. "Go ahead Coates, he's waiting…"<p>

"Yes Ma'am," she said nervously as she stepped up beside him and began to pin  
>his new rank on his uniform.<p>

"Congratulations, Lieutenant Tiner," she said happily while giving him a kiss on  
>the cheek.<p>

"Thank you, Petty Officer." Jason replied as thunderous applause erupted all  
>around them.<p>

**Harm and Mac stood on the Admiral's porch** as people gathered around Jason and  
>Jennifer in the living room.<p>

Harm sighed. "Well, it looks like Tiner did the right thing,"

Mac looked wistfully at the happy couple. "Um yeah, about that…."

Harm immediately turned to his partner. He could sense there was something she  
>wanted to say.<p>

"What's on your mind Mac?"

"You remember when you said you never wanted to lose me?" God, did that come  
>out sounding awkward.<p>

Harm took a sip of his punch. "Yeah…I do." he replied in a low serious voice.

Mac set her punch glass down on the porch railing. "Well, I just want you to  
>know, that I never want to lose you either-"<p>

Harm put down his glass as well. "But you haven't, Mac, and you won't-"

"Harm, we've both had our share of close calls lately and you nearly getting  
>killed in Mirbullah made me realize I can't stand the thought of losing you, you<br>not being there…." She had meant to say 'ever again' but she lost the words when  
>she looked up into his gorgeous aqua blue eyes.<p>

Harm smiled at Mac. "You won't, Marine, I promise."

"You can't promise me that, Harm." Mac said flatly. No bantering about 'Don't make a promise you can't keep'. There was resignation and sadness in her voice.

"Mac," Harm was working hard not to take her hand in his. They were in public.

The Light Colonel shook her head. "Harm, listen to me. Either one of us could  
>have been killed on this assignment."<p>

His blue eyes bored into her brown ones. "Mac, that's true of most of our  
>assignments-"<p>

Harmon Rabb could be so frustrating at times. "But Harm, it isn't the same  
>anymore." She said trying again to get the point across.<p>

"It isn't? What do you mean? Do you want me to give up flying?" What she didn't  
>know was that right now he didn't find the idea of being grounded all that bad. His<br>latest close call had him wondering just how many of his nine lives he had left.

She smiled gently at his misunderstanding of her obtuse statement. "No Harm; I  
>would never ask you do to that. You know what I mean…." He stared at her, trying<br>to figure out what she meant. For a tough, no-nonsense Devildog, sometimes she  
>could be downright bewildering when it came to declarations like this.<p>

"I do?" He said not really understanding at all.

Mac blew out a frustrated breath. Why was this so hard? After all, they had  
>done the deed and formed a stronger relationship because of it. "Yes, you do."<br>He continued to stare at her waiting for more of an explanation. Why was taking  
>this one little step so hard for both of them? "Harmon Rabb…dammit Harm…you make this so difficult…"<p>

A light suddenly dawned in the aviator/lawyer's eyes. "You want to be more than  
>just my girlfriend…."<p>

She nodded, unable for some reason at this moment in time to verbally confirm  
>what he had just said.<p>

"Even though you know my track record with women…." He continued carefully.

She nodded again. "And you know about my track record with men-" she finally replied.

She thought she was giving him the correct signal.

Which he promptly misinterpreted. "Mac, please, honest to God; I'm sorry I ever  
>said those words-"<p>

But she wasn't about to let this degenerate into one of their famous dances.  
>"They were true Harm; you can't deny that…hell, I can't even deny that-"<p>

"Mac-"

She took the initiative. "Harm, listen to me; I want to be more than just your  
>friend or your girlfriend—I don't care about your track record with other women.<br>Just like you don't care about my track record with other men-otherwise, you  
>still wouldn't be around…I just know I can't let you go."<p>

The tall Commander nodded. "And I can't let you go either, Mac." He said with  
>conviction.<p>

Mac was warmed by his statement, but it also left them looking over a precipice  
>from which if they jumped, there would be no return. "So what do we do about<br>this Harm? We can't go back to the way it was."

He nodded solemnly. "You're right Mac, we can't."

"So where does that leave us Harm?" She prompted. Fear started to grow in her.

What was he going to do – back away?

She could see that Harm was weighing what she had said. "Harm?" she said, this  
>time a little more strongly.<p>

In his mind, Harmon Rabb, Junior was back on the Admiral's porch at Mac and  
>Brumby's engagement party.<p>

_'Mac, you have someone who will always love you.'_

_'And you have somebody that *loves* you…'_

**"Mac,"** he said suddenly, "you once told me I have someone who loves me; I hope  
>that person will be you-"<p>

She nodded. He was doing it. "It will be Harm, but-"

He wanted to finish before he lost his nerve. "-Because I will always be the  
>one who loves you— He took his academy ring and then taking her hand, slipped<br>it on her finger. "It's not much, I know, but I figure if Tiner can do it-"

Mac stared at him in surprise. She had wanted him to propose but she didn't  
>expect this. Her mouth opened as if to say something.<p>

"Mac?"

She looked down at the academy ring and then back at him.

Harm began to panic. A speechless Mac couldn't be a good thing. "Mac, say  
>something, please, you're scaring me."<p>

"Oh God," she breathed, her eyes were bright with tears and her voice was thick  
>with emotion, "Harm?"<p>

"… Mac I-"

"Don't you say another word, Sailor." She warned playfully.

She could see he was about to say something and that might ruin the moment. Mac  
>did what any good Marine would do. She jumped on the grenade. She pulled Harm<br>to her,

"Mac, I—mfmfmff-!"

They kissed longer than they ever had before. The kiss grew more intense with  
>each struggling to get a better grip. Both pulled away gasping. Surprisingly,<br>no one seemed to take notice of what the two senior lawyers were doing - either  
>that or they were doing a good job of ignoring it.<p>

"Wow, um," Harm stood, unable to comprehend what had just happened.

Mac nodded, still a little off kilter herself. "Yeah,… wow,…h'oh boy."

"Mac?" Harm said tentatively.

"Yes Harm?" She replied with some hesitancy herself.

"Let's try that again. You know; just to be sure-"

That made sense to her. To hell with protocol. "Okay, sure, yeah…to be sure…."

This time he pulled her to him. Again the kiss became intense as both struggled  
>to maintain control and lost. After a few minutes they both pulled away again.<p>

"Wow…." Was all the tall Naval Commander could say.

"Yup, wowee…" replied Mac biting her lower lip and smiling like she hadn't in months.

She looked down at the ring again. "Harm, do you really mean it? Are you sure?"

Now it was his turn to nod. "I mean it, Ninja Girl. I don't want to lose you,  
>Mac."<p>

She couldn't believe this was happening. "You won't Flyboy, I promise you that,  
>you won't…."<p>

Bud at that moment walked out onto the porch dabbing uselessly at a punch stain  
>on his breast pocket. Sturgis was following close behind. When he saw the two<br>senior officers and the way they were looking at each other his eyes immediately  
>fell on the new ring on the Colonel's finger.<p>

"Colonel? Holy Cow!" Was all the Lieutenant could manage to say. Sturgis for  
>the first time since he had met these two together, was speechless.<p>

Both senior attorneys acted as if they had woken up from a great dream. They  
>gaped at Bud and Sturgis and then looked at each other. Mac's hand instinctively<br>went behind her back.

"Bud-" Harm began.

At that moment AJ Chegwidden strolled out onto the porch. He saw the trio and  
>from the looks on their faces immediately knew something was up. "Commander!<br>Colonel! What the devil is going on out here?"

Bud looked at his two mentors reassuringly. "Don't worry, Sir, Ma'am,"

AJ looked at Harm's academy ring on Mac's finger. He looked at Mac and then at  
>Harm.<p>

Bud was the first to break the silence. "Congratulations Ma'am, Congratulations  
>Sir! Wait till I tell Harriet…!" Sturgis Turner gave his old Academy buddy and his<br>erstwhile investigative partner, Mac, a satisfied smile.

As Bud rushed back inside, AJ looked from Harm to Mac and then back to Harm.  
>Then he looked again at Mac's hand which she had brought out from behind her<br>back.

AJ folded his arms across his chest. "Well Commander, I trust you have a good  
>explanation for this…."<p>

"We do, Admiral," Mac replied looking at Harm and then back at the Colonel.

"Ah, Yes sir, we do." Harm repeated.

AJ stood there a moment. "Well, I'll be…" He then cleared his throat.

"Well, Commander, Colonel; I guess this means you've both came to a decision about  
>what we talked about."<p>

Harm looked at Mac who gave him an encouraging smile.

Now the Commander cleared his throat. "Ah, Yes Sir, we have-

AJ cut him off before he could say anything to ruin the moment. "Good! Because  
>I was beginning to wonder if this was ever going to happen on my watch."<p>

Stunned looks showed on both of their faces. "Sir?" They said in unison. Had  
>he been expecting something like this would happen? And for how long? What<br>was going to happen now?

AJ chuckled and shook his head. "I've told you two before; if you've got a  
>problem, talk to me about it. As JAG I have certain privileges and can use them<br>when necessary. I want to see both of you in my office bright and early  
>tomorrow morning. Understood? Now let's go inside and rejoin the party."<br>The two senior JAG Corps attorneys grinned at each other and then looked back at  
>AJ.<p>

"Aye, aye, sir!" They said in unison.

The Navy-Marine Corps JAG turned and headed back into the living room followed  
>by the two senior officers. As they started toward the entrance, Sturgis Turner<br>stopped them.

Sturgis looked at Harm for a long moment and then shook his friend's hand. "Congratulations, buddy."

"Thanks Sturg," Harm said warmly.

The Preacher's son and former Bubblehead then turned to Mac. "Congratulations, Mac."

Mac was beaming. The secret was finally out. "Thank you, Sturgis."

As the three headed toward the door, they heard AJ Chegwidden sounding chipper than he had in weeks.

"Ladies and Gentlemen; I have another announcement to make…."

-FINIS


	89. Chapter 88  Appendix

*Scorecard for Operation King Cobra*

After discussing this idea with my editors, we decided you guys might appreciate a scorecard of sorts - for those of you familiar with me, military arts and sciences is a strong interest of mine.

What you have below is a modified Table of Organization & Equipment for the 36th MEU and a partial roster for the carrier wing of USS Patrick Henry. You could call this a good guys - bad guys scorecard and hopefully it will help in being able to visualize the battle. There is really no way I could possibly recreate the entire conflict in which Harm, Mac and the rest of the JAG/NCIS team are involved with, so to make the battle vignettes a little less overwhelming, this was suggested. For those not interested, just ignore :)

A/N: *Character or mentioned in the story **Good guys** _Bad guys_

**Patrick Henry's Carrier Wing - CVW-12** 'NJ' on F-14D tail flash. **VF-218**'Raptors' EAGLE – Velociraptor on circular red/white/blue background

218TH Fighter squadron – 14 F-14Ds in a normal 2003 squadron;  
>Section -consists of 2 planes; Flight-consists of 4-6 planes CALL SIGN: EAGLE Example: Harm, EAGLE 21<p>

**Naval Aviator Ranks**  
>O 5 CDR – Commander<br>O 4 LCDR – Lieutenant Commander  
>O 3 LT – Lieutenant<p>

O 2 LT jg – Lieutenant junior grade

Harm's unit – nicknames in [ ] brackets. His unit is the lead unit in the Alpha Strike against the insurgents and SCUD launchers. They make two passes on the target. On the second pass, the insurgents manage to shoot down one of the F-14s.

***EAGLE 21 CDR Harmon 'Harm' [Hammer] Rabb, Jr.  
>*EAGLE 22 LCDR Nicole [Supergirl] Hollands<strong>

*EAGLE 31 LT Joseph [Rhino] Wayne  
>*EAGLE 32 LT, jg J. [Flying Cloud] Cloud<br>*EAGLE 33 LT Diana [Sweet Cheeks] Schaffer  
>*EAGLE 34 LT, jg Ben [Wolfie] Walsh<p>

*EAGLE 41 LT Rick [Mr. Cool] Fuqua  
>*EAGLE 42 LT, jg Aaron Phelps<br>*EAGLE 43 LT Lyle Danson  
>*EAGLE 44 LT jg Ted Epps<p>

EAGLE 51 LT Berry [Poindexter]  
>EAGLE 52 LT jg Waldron<br>EAGLE 53 LT Vandenberg  
>EAGLE 54 LT jg Holmes<p>

**Marine Aviator Ranks**  
>O 4 MAJ – Major<br>O 3 CPT – Captain  
>O 2 1st LT – Lieutenant 1st class<br>O 1 2nd LT – Lieutenant 2nd class  
>CWO – Chief Warrant Officer<br>WO – Warrant Officer

**VFMA**(From Patrick Henry) Super Hornet Squadron [A flight of four will appear in the story] Callsign: HUNTER. This unit is from the 1st Marine Air Wing [MAW] in Iraq and is tasked with support of ground units in Operation King Cobra.

**F-18D [Lucky Eddie] *MAJ Edward Epperson HUNTER 01**  
>F-18D [Roger Ramjet] 1st LT Owen HUNTER 02<br>F-18D [Busy Bee] 1st LT Lucas HUNTER 03  
>F-18D [Hummingbird] 2nd LT Cara Daniels HUNTER 04<p>

Marine Aviation Wing: 36th MEU Aviation Combat Element (ACE)

**HMLA 975**– Nicknames: Wildcats, Night Prowlers Callsign: Firefly [HMLA-975 also served in Afghanistan – with a reserve unit from Marietta, Georgia; operated out of Forward Operation Base (FOB) Salerno]. During the opening phases of Operation King Cobra, Colonel Briggs determines that CAS [close air support] provided by the 1st MAW and the fixed wing aircraft of Aviation Combat Element will be more than enough support for this military strike. As the initial fighting reveals that the insurgents are more organized than first thought, HMLA-975 is ordered to assist.

4-8 AH-1W, AH-1Z Supercobra helicopter gunships

COL Ellis

XO – MAJ Birdwell

DRAGONLY TWO LT Gale  
>DRAGONFLY ONE LT Dickey<br>*FIREFLY SIX – CO CPT Steve Maxwell  
>FIREFLY FIVE – XO Ian Skaggs<br>*FIREFLY FOUR – LT Mason Richard 'Rich' Aubrey  
>*FIREFLY THREE – LT Wayne Towers<br>*FIREFLY TWO LT Anwar Hafez  
>*FIREFLY ONE [1st LT Ben Lukens and 2nd LT Fred Buell]<p>

**HMM 871**12 CH-46E SEA KNIGHT - also known as EHCOS/PHROGS [frogs]. Only one helo from HMM-871 is involved in this part of the operation [and the story].

**HMH 892**7 CH-53 STALLION; 2 MH-53M Pave Low IIII on loan from Special Operations Callsign: Hatchet 07 The MEU has two Special Operations helos that are on loan from the 20th Special Operations Squadron [20th SOS]. The helos were assigned to the MEU during their tour in Afghanistan, fall 2002.

Low III [crew]  
>*Pilot &amp; CO: CPT Don Casey Pave<br>*Co-Pilot 1st Lieutenant Sal Jankovich  
>*Crew Chief 2nd Lt Mark Feldman<br>*Assistant Crew Chief CWO Chief Warrant Officer Javier Guzman  
>Door gunner 7.62 left Sgt Scott Brinks<br>Door gunner 7.62 right Sgt Tad Reese  
>Door gunner ramp .50 cal SSgt Chad Martin<p>

2-3 UH-1N HUEY MAYFLY ONE – 2nd LT Baugh. Mayfly One is assigned as aerial observation support to the MEU.

2-3 UH-60N SEAHAWK ANGEL TWO Medevac – 1st LT Nick Charles, *Hospital Corpsman 1st Class [HM1] Chief Petty Officer Rachel Brie. This Seahawk is assigned to Battalion Aid Support [BAS] for the MEU. They are the 'first responders' to downed aircraft.

**VMA 217**This unit, from the 1st Marine Air Wing, is assigned to MEU's Aviation Combat Element. LT. Carter's section is damaged by insurgent man portable surface to air missiles [SAMs].

4 AV-8B HARRIER [two will appear in this story] Callsign: JAVELIN  
>AV-8B *1st LT Abner Scott JAVELIN 01<p>

AV-8B *2nd LT Keith Price JAVELIN 02  
>AV-8B *1st LT Miles Carter JAVELIN 03<br>AV-8B *2nd LT Alf Kensington JAVELIN 04

**VMGR 3**KC-130 Marine Aerial Re-fueler Transport aircraft Callsign: PELICAN This section from the 1st Marine Air Wing is assigned to the 36th MEU as aerial refuelers and to transport the 36th MEU's special operation troops – namely, Colonel Livingston's Force Recon Marines

***PELICAN THREE – Commanded by 1st Lt. Gill Basilone**  
>PELICAN TWO – 2nd LT Skaggs<br>PELICAN ONE – 2nd LT Baum

Attached to Operation King Cobra - Air Force assets in Theatre

**Air Force Aviator Ranks**  
>O 5 LT COL – Lieutenant Colonel<br>O 4 MAJ – Major  
>O 3 CPT – Captain<br>O 2 1st LT – Lieutenant 1st class  
>O 1 2nd LT – Lieutenant 2nd class<br>CWO – Chief Warrant Officer  
>WO – Warrant Officer<p>

1 **C-130U Spectre Gunship – 16th SOW Special Operations Wing**'Elvin Fury' Callsign: DUST DEVIL ONE. CPT Brown's plane is assigned to the 36th MEU in support of Operation King Cobra.

***CPT Lea Brown  
>*1st LT Aimee Joshua<strong>

Air Force Assets from Diego Garcia

SORTIE 1 - A Mighty Wind – Assigned to Operation King Cobra. MAJ Heartford's cell arrives just after VF-218's plane is shot down. Their assignment – to neutralize the Iraqi Battalion Defensive Position [IBDP] north of Mirbullah.

B-52H Cell [3 planes]

THUNDER 07 Gran'dad's Devastator [lead] Crew S-95 *CPT Carter  
>THUNDER 08 Rampaging Beast MAJ Heartford<br>THUNDER 09 Infinite Destruction CPT Lawrence

B-52H Crew  
>Aircraft Commander CPT [Captain]<br>Pilot 1LT [First Lieutenant]  
>Pilot Augmentee MAJ [Major]<br>Radar Navigator CPT [Captain]  
>Navigator 1LT [First Lieutenant]<br>Navigator Augmentee MAJ [Major]  
>Electronic Warfare Officer CPT [Captain]<br>Gunner A1C/SGT [Airman First Class/Sergeant]  
>Additional Pilot MAJ [Major]<p>

SORTIE 2 - Lancer Flight – Assigned to Operation King Cobra. MAJ Collins' section arrives just after MAJ Heartford's unit finishes its bombing run. Their assignment – to neutralize the IBDP survivors.

LIGHTNING 05 Son of Stratofortress B-1B *MAJ Collins  
>LIGHTNING 06 Black Avenger B-1B *CPT Oswald<p>

MAKE UP of the 36th Marine Expeditionary Unit. Currently assigned to Mirbullah, Iraq north of al-Nasiriyah.

Mentioned in the upcoming chapters

36th Marine Expeditionary Unit - Special Operations Capable (MEUSOC)- 3-2nd Battalion Landing Team [BLT]

**Marine Ranks**  
>O 6 COL – Colonel<br>O 5 LTC – Lieutenant Colonel  
>O 4 MAJ – Major<br>O 3 CPT – Captain  
>O 2 1st LT Lieutenant 1st class<br>O 1 2nd LT Lieutenant 2nd class  
>E 9 MGS – Master Gunnery Sergeant<br>E 8 FSG/1SG – First Sergeant  
>E 7 GSG – Gunnery Sergeant<br>E 6 SSG – Staff Sergeant  
>E 5 SGT – Sergeant<br>E 4 CPL – Corporal  
>E 3 LCPL – Lance Corporal<br>E 2 PFC – Private First Class

Marine Expeditionary Unit Commanding Officer MEU CO *COL Ashton Briggs [Overall command of Operation King Cobra, due to his illness, he is unaware of _Darcy Livingston's_plans]

HMMWV *SGT Jenkins [Briggs' driver and aide]

Battalion Executive Officer BNXO 36th HQ & HQ Coy [HHC]MEU ***LTC Andrew Baxter**[Overseeing the Infantry Battalion (GATORFORCE) its supporting elements, and Multinational Support in Operation King Cobra]

AAV-7A1 ***SGT Dewert** [Baxter's driver and aide]

***JAG/JAD/NCIS INVESTIGATION TEAM** paired with Lieutenant Colonel Baxter

**CDR Faith Coleman** – JAG Corps – Marine squad

**LT Bud Roberts** – JAG Corps

AAV-7A1 **SGT DAMATO**

Marine Squad – NCIS Major Case Response Team (MCRT) **NCIS Special Agent Leroy Jethro GIBBS, SGT CANELLA **(5-14 Marines, Military Police and NCIS Officers)

AAV-7A1 **SGT MARCUS**

**2ND LT BICE** (5-14 Marines, Military Police and NCIS Officers)

Marine Squad – Staff Judge Advocate Marine Expeditionary Force

(SJAMEF) Judge Advocate Division (JAD) MAJ Vincent **BARNETT**

M240 MMG Section & Marine Squad - Staff Judge Advocate Marine Expeditionary Unit (SJAMEU) JAD CPT Floyd **JOHNSON**

AAV-7A1 **SGT DEVEREAUX**

M-136 LAW Team (5-14 Marines, Military Police and NCIS Officers)

**Force Recon Unit** [Typical as of 2003]

EACH PLATOON HAS 22 MEN – DIVIDED INTO 5 MAN TEAMS. 6TH MAN SPECIAL AMPHIBOUS RECONNAISSANCE CORPSMAN [SARC] RANK OF PETTY OFFICER 3RD CLASS TO PETTY OFFICER 1ST CLASS. HE ALSO SERVES AS BOAT DRIVER AND RATELO [Radio Telephone Operator]

2nd Force Recon

Command Element of 2nd Force Recon- Headquarters

*LTC –CO _Darcy D'Acerville Livingston_

MAJ –XO [in charge of other Force Recon units not in Mirbullah]

S1 Administration

S2 Intelligence

S3 Operations – training, parachute rigging

S4 Logistics & Supply – dive, amphibious operations

S6 Communications

SGM Sen Sgt/ MGS 'Master Guns' (was *_Rudy Wilbane_; now is ***Victor Galindez**)

Headquarters &Service Company; normal leaders MAJ, 1SG

Three Companies

A Coy – MAJ, 1SG – with another marine unit in Iraq

B Coy – CPT, 1SG – with another marine unit in Iraq

_C Coy, 2nd Recon Battalion, 2nd Force Recon, 2nd Mar Div _attached 36th MEU

Normal leaders of the unit CPT, 1st LT & 1SG with 200 Marines & Sailors total 6 platoons per company/ 22 men each

4 men platoon headquarters – normally lead by a MAJ, CPT

3 recon teams/ 6 men each [5 and one Corpsman aka SARC]

*Current Organization for Company C

Hq Plt & 1st Plt *_LTC Darcy Livingston_ - Lead team-they carry silencer equipped AK-47s]

2nd Plt ***LTC MacKenzie and MGS Galindez** [Deep Recon]

3rd Plt *_Capt Lewis and 1st LT Bailey_

Individual Platoon Makeup (normal unit)

Platoon HQ Supt 3 men – radio, ordnance, divers

1]MAJ/CPT – CO

2]GSG or SSG – PLT SGT

3]SSG – PLT RATELO

4*]Petty Officer SARC [Navy] (assigned to one of the platoons)

5]SGT PLT EQUIP RIGGER

6] SGT

Platoons 1-3 - 3 teams per platoon

1- TEAM Commander GSG or SSG Recon Team Leader

2- Executive Officer SGT Assistant Team Leader [ATL]

3- Section Leader CORP RATELO

4-LCPL Recon Specialist

5-LCPL Recon Specialist

6-LCPL Engineering Specialist

DARCY'S UNIT – The good guys and the bad guys

Indicates those_ loyal_ to Darcy Livingston. Indicates those** loyal** to Mac and the 36th MEU

***CLP GONZALEZ/Radio-Telephone Operator **

_*SGT GONSALVES – M-82 Sniper_

***CPL GARCIA – Sniper**

_*2nd LT FULMER – Recon FO_

_*CPL DUNLAP – Recon Scouts_

_*1st LT BAILEY – Recon Engineers_

_*SGT WITT – Recon FO_

_*2ND LT RICKETTS – Recon Grp_

_*CPL DAY – Recon Eng_

*CPL SAVAGE – Recon Scouts

_*CPL ARONSON – Recon Sniper_

_*1ST LT BENSON – Recon Grp_

_*SGT SAUNDERS – Recon Eng_

_*CPL OWENS – Recon Scouts_

***SGT CIENFUENTES – M-82 Sniper**

_*1ST LT BAGGETT – Recon Grp_

_*CPL PHILLIPS – Recon Eng_

*CPL WAYANS – Recon Scouts

*CPL DEVENS – M-82 Sniper

***2nd LT FLEMMINGER – Recon Team FO**

_*CPT JACQUES 'JAC' LEWIS – Sniper & Recon FO_

***1st LT Bart Skinner**

Colonel Livingston and Lieutenant Bailey's ground transport

M1008 Dodge Ram M2HB .50 SLAP

_*2nd LT Peterson_

***SGT Dahl**

_*SGT Collins_

M1008 Dodge Ram M2HB .50 SLAP

_*1st LT Sadowski_

_*CPL Kingsley_

_*SGT Ramage_

*'**SHARK TWO'** UNIT 3-2 [2ND FORCE RECON, 8TH PLATOON] 18/22 men total

*1-LT. COL PLT HQ LDR **Mac 'Silver Leaf/Tin Leaf'** replaced **1st LT CARLSON EBBITS**

*2-MASTER SERGEANT [msg] NCOIC 'Master Guns' replaced by **Gunny Victor Galindez**

*3-[STAFF SERGEANT SSG] M224 60MM MTR AND PLT RATELO _Harry Armstrong_

*x-[SERGEANT] PLT EQUIPMENT RIGGER, ORDNANCE SGT

*5-[PETTY OFFICER 1ST CLASS] SARC [knows SEAL team sent to stop Darcy] **'Doc Yader' Ryan Burke **

*6-SSG M-19 ISGL/M2HB .50/STINGER **'SSG Mark Dallas'**

*7-SGT M-249 SAW **Casmir Szymas**

*x-CPL M-4A1-M-203RGL/M-249 SAW

*9-LCPL M-4A1/HK-MP5SD/MOSSBERG-REMINGTON SHOTGUN **Davy 'lance criminal' Crockett**

*10-LCPL M-4A1/HK-MP5SD/MOSSBERG-REMINGTON SHOTGUN **Arnold Kenneth Bledsoe**

*11-LCPL M-4A1 WITH RIFLE GRENADE LAUNCHER/HK-MP5SD _Jim Stallings_

*12-SSG M-240 G MMG/M-136 SMAW/M3 CGRR/M72 LAW **'Joe Corbin'**

*13-SGT M249SPW SAW **Al Bradenton**

*14-CPL M-4A1-M-203RGL/M-249 SAW '**Luke Calapango'** [Tonga]

*15-LCPL M-4A1/HK-MP5SD/MOSSBERG-REMINGTON SHOTGUN **Evan Mickens**

*16-CPL M-4A1/HK-MP5SD/MOSSBERG-REMINGTON SHOTGUN _Nate Peters_

*17-LCLP M-4A1/HK-MP5SD M202 66MM RKT '**Hooks', Logan 'sister' 'Ronnie'**

*18-SSG – Sniper M-40A1 _Leonard Reynolds _

*19-SGT – SPOTTER _Tim Bullard_

*20-LCPL - SPOTTER **Sean O'Grady**

*21-LCPL – Sniper **Kayce Danvers** DESIGNATED MARKSMAN M82A3E1 BARRET LIGHT FIFTY WITH HUD SCOPE (SILENCED) BIPOD

3 M1008 Dodge Ram Pickups with M2HB .50 SLAP

***SGT Sal Williams**

***CPL Don Burges**

***CPL Eddie Willet**

THREE PLATOONS PER COMPANY

PLATOON HQ

1]PLT LDR CO LTC **Sarah MacKenzie**

2]GSG or SSG – PLT SGT/ MSG **Victor Galindez** [riding in Willet's? truck]

*]PO1-3 SARC [Navy *Mayer's mole*] **'Doc' Yader – Ryan Burke**

x]SSG PLT EQUIP RIGGER/LOGISTICS

5 M-1008 Dodge Ram M-2HB AAMG .50 SLAP CPL **Don Burges**

6-GSG RCN TM LDR SSG **Mark Dallas**

7-SSG ATL SGT **Al Bradenton**

8-SGT FRATELO SGT **Casmir Szymas**

9-SGT RCN SPEC LCPL **Davy 'Lance Criminal' Crockett**

10-SGT RCN SPEC CPL **Arnold Kenneth Bledsoe**

_11-SGT ENG SPEC LCLP __**Jim Stallings***_

12 M-1008 Dodge Ram M-2HB AAMG .50 SLAP SGT **Sal Williams**

13-GSG RCN TM LDR** Joe Corbin**

*14-SSG ATL SSG _**Harry Armstrong**_

_15-SGT FRATELO CPL __**Nate Peters***_

16-SGT RCN SPEC CPL **Luke Calapango**

17-SGT RCN SPEC CPL **Evan Mickens**

18-SGT ENG SPEC CPL '**Hooks', Logan 'sister' 'Ronnie'**

*_19-SSG ATL _SSG _**Leonard Reynolds**_

20-SGT FRATELO CPL **Sean O'Grady** SPOTTER M-14 DMR

*_21-SGT RCN SPEC __**Tim Bullard**_

22-SGT RCN SPEC CPL **Kayce Danvers** SASR-LRSR [riding with Mac]

SPECIAL APPLICATION SCOPED RIFLE – LONG RANGE SNIPER RIFLE [M-83A3 WITH HUD DISPLAY [PROTOTYPE]]

23 M-1008 Dodge Ram M-2HB AAMG .50 SLAP CPL **Eddie Willet**

[US Navy S.E.A.L. Team] Commander [CO] Brad May hails from Galveston, Texas used to go down to Corpus and watch the LPH/MCM-Inchon and visit the Lexington. Always had a strong interest in military aviation – impresses and intimidates subordinates with his knowledge – his actions at Mirbullah earn him the Navy Cross.

The S.E.A.L. unit is code named 'Rat Patrol'

**Navy Ranks**

E 4 PO3 – Petty Officer 3rd class CPL

E 5 PO2 – Petty Officer 2nd class SGT

E 6 PO1 – Petty Officer 1st class SSG

E 7 CPO – Chief Petty Officer

E 8 SCPO – Senior Chief Petty Officer

E 9 MCPO – Master Chief Petty Officer

O 1 ENS – Ensign

O 2 LT, jg – Lieutenant, junior grade

O 3 LT – Lieutenant

O 4 LCDR – Lieutenant Commander

O 5 CDR – Commander

S.E.A.L. PLT ***CDR Brad May**

Lt. Commander [xo]

Supt 20 men – radio, ordnance, drivers

Platoon- 2 officers 14 enlisted men

SEAL Team ~MCPO Darrell Coskill

SEAL Team ~SCPO Brachett

SEAL Pathfinder ~CPO Davis

Squad- 1 officer [ensign] 7 em

2 Fire teams 4 men

Unit vehicles:

M-1044 HMMWV .50 cal *PO2 Vickers [CDR May's vehicle]

*Vickers, *Coskill, *May, [Galindez, Burke with Shark Two]

M-1044 HMMWV .50 cal *PO3 Davenport [SCPO Brachett's vehicle]

M-1097 HMMWV M-19 ISGL *PO2 Broadland [CPO Davis' vehicle]

Team support vehicles:

Desert Patrol Vehicle (DPV) .50 cal *PO2 Gifford [small 4x4 off-road dune buggy]

DPV .50 cal *PO3 Sharpe

DPV M-19 ISGL *PO1 Unger

DPV M-19 ISGL *PO3 Cameron

LAR RECON CDR Zachery 'Zeke' Fuller's Unit [LAV-25] **Company C**Platoon Nickname: 'Gunslingers' Callsign: Rover.

Attached to 36th MEU, they scout out the route for the attacking Marine unit and provide fire support for the attacking Marine infantry companies. Staff Sergeant Fuller [Rover Leader] and 1st LT Pope [Combined Anti-Armor Team One] support GATORFORCE ONE and Sergeant Sewett and 2nd LT Thomason, Sergeant Casano [Combined Anti-Armor Team Two] and support GATORFORCE TWO. Sewett's unit contains the mole loyal to Darcy.

**RECON for GATORFORCE 1**- Name of combined arms Marine/Iraqi combat unit

Patrol *1st LT Chapps - M-16A4 Automatic Rifle, M-249 Squad Automatic Weapon (SAW), M-203 Rifle Grenade Launcher (RGL), M-136 Light Antitank Weapon-A (LAW-A)  
>CPL Larry Glanz – Radio-Telephone Operator (RATELO)<br>LAV-25 ROVER 4 Vehicle Commander (CDR): *SSG Sergeant Zeke Fuller  
>Gunner (GNR): *CPL Chris Kirtland<br>Driver (DVR)

Patrol – *CPL Falls - M-16A4, M249SAW, M203 RGL, M136 LAW-A  
>LAV-25 ROVER 2 Vehicle CDR: *CPL Appleton<br>Gunner (GNR):  
>Driver (DVR)<p>

**INTF – BDE S – Iraqi Army, 10th Division, 4th BDE, 203rd Battalion 4-3-203rd Battalion **

Motorized Rifle Section – Ra'is AK-74 AR, PKM LMG, Hand Grenade

Motorized Rifle Section – 'Arif AK-74 AR, PKM LMG[2], RPG-7

Motorized Rifle Section – Ra'is AK-74 AR, PKM LMG, RPG-7

BTR-50

BTR-50

BTR-50

BRDM-2

Scout Section

HMMWV 'Arif Bahi

Scout Section

M-1044 HMMWV – CPL Windrich Combined Anti-Armor Team (CAAT) 1  
>Marine Squad – 1st LT Pope M-16, M249SAW, M249SAW, M203 RGL<br>M-1044 – CPL Newsome  
>Marine Squad – CPL Martin - M-16, M249SAW, M249SAW, M203 RGL<br>M-1044 – SGT Simmons  
>Javelin Antitank Weapon Guided Missile Teams – *SGT Berry,* CLP Brick - ATGM[2],<p>

M-16A4, Hand Grenades

LAV-Antitank (LAV-AT) TOW ATGM – *SGT DeWard  
>LAV-Mortar (LAV-M) 81mm MTR – Section CDR: *SGT Whalen<p>

**RECON for GATORFORCE 2**

Patrol - M-16A4, M249SAW, M203 RGL, M136 LAW-A  
>CPL Greg Tacewell M-249 Squad Automatic Weapon<br>LAV-25 ROVER 3 Vehicle CDR: *SGT Kyle Sewett  
>Patrol - M-16A4, M249SAW, M203 RGL, M136 LAW-A<br>*CPL Vick Dremmond M-249 Squad Automatic Weapon  
>*CPL Rick Bauer M-16A4<br>LAV-25 ROVER 1 Vehicle CDR: _Corporal Jay Raden_

GNR

DVR

**4-2-203rd Battalion **

Motorized Rifle Section – Ra'is AK-74 AR, PKM LMG, RPG-22

Motorized Rifle Section – 'Arif AK-74 AR, PKM LMG[2], RPG-7

Motorized Rifle Section – Ra'is AK-74 AR, PKM LMG, RPG-14

MT-LB Ra'is Hammami

MT-LB *Ra'is Sadoon

MT-LB

BRDM-2 Naqib Ali

Scout Section

BRDM-2 DVR ***Arif Rafid T'lass**

Scout Section ***Ra'is Khalil As'sam**

M-1097 HMMWV – *CPL Dillman CAAT 2  
>Marine Squad – *1st LT Thomason M-16A4, M249, M203 RGL, M203 RGL<br>M-1097 12.7 GAU-19A GG Gun Truck – *SGT Casano  
>Marine Squad – CPL Swift M-16A4, M249, M203 RGL, M203 RGL<br>M-1097 – CPL Jacobson  
>Shoulder Mounted Assault Weapon Teams – SGT Pondren, CPL Edson Javelin SMAW-NE[2], M-16A4, Hand Grenades<p>

LAV-AT – Section CDR: *1st LT Dye  
>LAV-M – SGT Miller<p>

**4-1-203rd Battalion **

Motorized Rifle Section – Ra'is AK-74 AR, PKM LMG, Hand Grenade

Motorized Rifle Section – 'Arif AK-74 AR, PKM LMG[2], RPG-7

Motorized Rifle Section – Ra'is AK-74 AR, PKM LMG, Hand Grenade

BMP-1

BMP-1

BMP-1

BRDM-ATGM Konkurs Ra'is Tariq

BRDM-ATGM Konkurs Ra'is Saad

BRDM-ATGM Konkurs Ra'is Mohammed

BRDM-ATGM Konkurs *'Arif al-Sapir

**2nd Tank Battalion Company B, 3rd Platoon** – Nicknames: Ace in the Hole, Masters of the Iron Horse Callsign: Slugger Marine M1A1HC platoon – 6 tanks, 24 men. Attached to 36th MEU, they are anti-armor and anti-infantry support for the attacking Marine companies. 1st Lieutenant Borden [Slugger Leader] and Corporal Vandergrift [Slugger Two] support GATORFORCE ONE and Sergeant Watkins [Slugger Three] and Corporal Foss [Slugger One] support GATORFORCE TWO.

Normally composed of four to five tanks, Slugger unit has been supplemented with mine clearing and engineer tanks borrowed from US Army units.

M-1A1HC Abrams Main Battle Tank [Hard Composite armor] with Marine modifications  
>Deep Water Fording Kit - DWFK<br>Position Locating Reporting System - PLRS  
>Digital Electronic Control Unit - DECU<br>Independent Thermal Viewer - ITV  
>Thermal Imaging System - TIS<br>Gun Positioning System – Line of Sight GPS-LOS

Assigned to GF 1

M-1A1HC – *2nd LT Borden SLUGGER 4 – Vehicle B20  
>M-1A1HC – *CPL Vandergrift SLUGGER 2 - Vehicle B22<br>M-1A1CBS – *GSG SGT Dyess Vehicle B24 [Mine clearance tank] WARTHOG4

Assigned to GF 2

M-1A1HC – *SGT Watkins SLUGGER 3 - Vehicle B21  
>M-1A1HC – *CPL Foss SLUGGER 1 - Vehicle B23<br>M-728 Combat Engineer Vehicle (CEV) – *SSG SGT De Blanc BULLDOG4

[Attached to armored unit] 1 x M88A1 recovery vehicle  
>[Attached to armored unit] 1x M1 AVLB<p>

**2nd Amphibious Assault Battalion, Company A**– Nicknames: Brown Water Navy, Gatorforce Callsign: Sea Dragon. Transports for the Marine Infantry battalion, normally only supplied with a platoon's worth of these vehicles, GATORFORCE has been supplied with an entire company of AMTRACs plus Mine clearing Engineer vehicles.

LAV-FiST (Forward Observer for BN Commander and Executive Officer and for Rover platoon) Forward Observer (FO) – ***SGT DeWald**

**3rd Bn, 2nd Marines**- The main component of the 36th MEU. Due to attrition from a locally virulent influenza, the infantry companies of the battalion are lead by 1st Lieutenant Hawkins [Company A, GATORFORCE ONE], Major Kelly [Company B, GATORFORCE TWO] and Captain Sorenson [Company C, GATORFORCE RESERVE].

[Alpha] Company A, 3rd Bn, 2nd Marines GATORFORCE 1 Sewett, Thomason, Hammami

Marine Squad - *1st LT **Hawkins** M-16A4, M-16A2LMG, Sniper Rifle, M203 RGL  
>Scout Team – *1st LT Price M-16A4, M-249SAW, M203 RGL, Hand Grenade<br>Scout Team – CPL Edwards M-16A4, M-249SAW, M203 RGL, Hand Grenade  
>Heavy Sniper – CPL Garten M-82A1, M-16, Hand Grenade<br>Sniper – CPL Kelso Sniper Rifle, M-16, Hand Grenade  
>AAV-7A1 – CPL Shute A020<br>AAVE-7A1 MCLIC *1st LT Ansel Paige CHISEL 4  
>Combat Engineers – *2nd LT Ramon Gutierrez M-16A$, M203 RGL, Flamethrower, Satchel Charge<br>Combat Engineers – CPL Polk M-16A4, M203 RGL, Flamethrower, Satchel Charge  
>M-728 CEV – SGT Eckart BULLDOG 3<br>HMMWV Forward Observer –Ground Surveillance Radar (FO GSR) – SGT Martin

Marine Squad – 1st LT Rowe  
>Marine Squad – CPL Davenport<br>Marine Squad – *GSG Albert Sanchez  
>M240 MMG Sec – CPL Cleary M240, M240, M-16A4, Hand Grenade<br>SMAW Team – CPL Holmgren SMAW, M-16, Hand Grenade  
>AAV-7A1 – CPL Davis A021<br>AAV-7A1 – CPL Stein A022  
>AAV-7A1 – CPL Lopez A023<br>AAVE-7A1 MCLIC - CPL Mars CHISEL 1 31A  
>Marine Squad – 1st LT Cole, SGT Perez<br>Marine Squad – SGT Commiskey  
>Marine Squad – CPL Gill<br>M240 MMG Sec – CPL Timms, *PFC Jack Rodgers  
>M136 LAW Team – CPL Thoms<br>AAV-7A1 – SGT Power A024  
>AAV-7A1 – CPL Coontz A025<br>AAV-7A1 – SGT Hess A026  
>Marine Squad – 2nd LT Waters<br>Marine Squad – CPL Shadden  
>Marine Squad – SGT Ruben, *CPL Jack Keller<br>M240 MMG Sec – SGT Moore  
>SMAW Team – CPL Harry Samuda, *LCPL Wil Delphin<br>AAV-7A1 – SGT Foster A027  
>AAV-7A1 – SGT Winders A028<br>AAV-7A1 – SGT LaBelle A029

[Bravo] Company B – 3rd Bn, 2nd Marines GATORFORCE 2 Fuller, Borden

Marine Squad - ***MAJ Kelly** M-16A4, M-16A2LMG, Sniper Rifle, M203 RGL  
>Scout Team – *<strong>1st LT John Packer<strong> M-16A4, M-249SAW, M203 RGL, Hand Grenade  
>Scout Team – CPL Rouh M-16A4, M-249SAW, M203 RGL, Hand Grenade<br>Heavy Sniper – SGT Loudon M-82A1, M-16, Hand Grenade  
>Sniper – CPL Saleman Sniper Rifle, M-16, Hand Grenade<br>AAV-7A1 – SGT Wilson  
>AAVE-7A1 MCLIC – SGT Mausert CHISEL 2<br>Combat Engineers – SGT Lucas M-16A4, M203 RGL, Flamethrower, Satchel Charge  
>Combat Engineers – CPL Hanson M-16A4, M203 RGL, Flamethrower, Satchel Charge<br>Combat Engineers – 1st LT Ron Felk M-16A4, M203 RGL, Flamethrower, Satchel Charge  
>M-728 CEV – CPL Pell BULLDOG 2<br>HMMWV FO GSR – SGT Wills

Marine Squad – 1st LT Champagne  
>Marine Squad – CPL Gomez<br>Marine Squad – SGT Kennemore  
>M240 MMG Sec – CPL Wilkinson M240, M240, M-16, Hand Grenade<br>SMAW Team – CPL Pugh SMAW, M-16A4, Hand Grenade  
>AAV-7A1 – SGT Pierce<br>AAV-7A1 – SGT Osborn  
>AAV-7A1 – SGT Garcia<br>AAVE-7A1 MCLIC CHISEL 3–SGT Auerbach

Marine Squad – 1st LT Rhone  
>Marine Squad – SGT Gardner<br>Marine Squad – CPL Thomas  
>Combat Engineers – CPL Bonnyman M-16A4, M203 RGL, Flamethrower, Satchel Charge<br>M240 MMG Sec – CPL Mauser  
>M136 LAW Team – CPL Madden<br>AAV-7A1 – CPL Gould  
>AAV-7A1 – SGT Evans<br>AAV-7A1 – SGT Massone

Marine Squad – 1st LT Gale  
>Marine Squad – CPL Powers<br>Marine Squad – SGT Hassel  
>Combat Engineers – CPL Carson M-16A4, M203 RGL, Flamethrower, Satchel Charge<br>M240 MMG Sec – CPL Herr  
>SMAW Team – CPL Lummus<br>AAV-7A1 – SGT Gregg  
>AAV-7A1 – CPL Phillips<br>AAV-7A1- 1st LT Kidd

Company C, 3rd Bn, 2nd Marines [GATORFORCE RESERVE] *CPT Sorenson  
><strong>Rapid Response Team – RRT MEU Battalion Support Force:<strong>

HMMWV TOW Unit [*CDR **Sturgis Turner**, *SSG **Timmerman**], *1st LT Shigeta, CPL Odell, CPL Garza, SGT Paul

HMMWV Mortar Unit - 81mm MTR M252 (8)–CPT McKellan

Mk19/47 Infantry Support Grenade Launchers (ISGL) (6)–CPT Kells

M2-HB.50 cal. machineguns (6) – CPT Grayson

10th Marines Artillery Battery

6 – M777 155mm artillery pieces – 1st LT Walden  
>8 -M923MTVR trucks

**Coalition Support:**

*Polish troops from 12th Szczecin Mechanized Division [MD] [Baranova] and 25th Airborne Cavalry Division [ACD] Help hunt down Al-Qaeda and Iraqi irregulars. At first they part of GATORFORCE RESERVE but Colonel Baranova decides to take unilateral action after she

spots Darcy's mole. Only those members whose names are mentioned will be in the story.

Unit's ground vehicles [as noted by Colonel Baranova

in her request for reinforcements]:

BRDM-Model 96 [Sent from Poland]

BRDM-2M97 [Sent from Poland]

SKOT 2AP OT-64C [Borrowed from Iraqi Security Forces 7/2003] SKOT 2 OT-64C [Sent from Poland]

MTi-LB TRI-D Ammo Carrier

PT-91 MBTs with mine plows [listed as obsolescent mine clearing tanks by *mistake*!]

Polish Army Ranks

Private - Szeregowiec

Spec 4 - Starszy szeregowiec

Corporal – Kapral

Sergeant – Plutunowy

Staff Sergeant – Sierzant

Platoon Sergeant - Starszy sierzant

Master Sergeant - Sierzant sztabowy

Sergeant Major - Starszy sierzant sztabowy

2nd Lieutenant - Podporucznik

1st Lieutenant – Porucznik

Captain – Kapitan

Major - Major

Lieutenant Colonel - Podpulkownik

Colonel – Pulkownik

12th MRD Recon Section 45th Reconnaissance Battalion

BRDM-2M97 *Sierzant **Lesinski**

Scout Section *Pulkownik **Luisa Baranova**

BRDM-2M97 Sierzant Sobierajski

Scout Section Porucznik Brzozowski

BRDM-2M97 Sierzant Kolasa

Scout Section Kapral Jarzombek

Tank [Mine clearing] Platoon

PT-91 KMT-6 *Porucznik Korczak

PT-91 KMT-6 Sierzant Wojcik

PT-91 KMT-6 Sierzant Gorczyca

Motorized Rifle Company [OT-64]

MR Squad - *Kapitan **Stanislaus Chidorz** WZ 96 AR, RPK SAW, 40mm Rifle Grenade, Sniper Rifle

Scout Team – Podporucznik WZ 96, RPK SAW 40mm RGL, Sniper Rifle

Scout Team – Plutunowy WZ 96 AR, RPK SAW, 40mm RGL, 84mm RPG 'Carl Gustav'

Heavy Sniper – Plutunowy SVD Sniper Rifle, WZ 96 AR, Hand Grenade

Sniper – Kapral SVD Sniper Rifle, WZ 96 AR, Hand Grenade

OT-64C SKOT

OT-64C SKOT

SKOT 2AP OT-64C

MR Squad – *Porucznik **Anton Grobotow**

MR Squad

MR Squad

PKM MMG Sec – Kapral

SMAW Team – Kapral Carl Gustav Recoilless Rifles, WZ 96AR, Hand Grenade

OT-64C SKOT

OT-64C SKOT

SKOT 2 AP OT-64C

MR Squad – Podporucznik Biedrzycki

MR Squad

MR Squad

PKM MMG Sec

Carl Gustav Team

OT-64C SKOT

OT-64C SKOT

SKOT 2 AP OT-64C

25th Air Cavalry Division - ACD Gunship Section

2 Mil-24 W 'Hind'

***Porucznik Wawrzyniak**

***Podporucznik Jodlowski**

**Provisional Iraqi Army Forces** – paired with GATORFORCE for Operation King Cobra. Captain Azeri's unit is teamed with GATORFORCE ONE and Captain Muhaim's unit [Rafid and Khalil] is teamed with GATORFORCE TWO. They join Colonel Baranova in tracking down Darcy's mole.

**Provisional Iraqi Army Ranks**

Lance Corporal - Na'ib

Corporal – 'Arif

Sergeant – Ra'is

2nd Lieutenant - Dabit

1st Lieutenant - Mulazim

Captain – Ra'id

**Interim National Task Force – BDE South—Iraqi Civil Defense Corps (ICDC),Company C, 304th Battalion **

HMMWV; SKOT2AP OT-64C personnel carriers; Mixed Soviet and US trucks

*Ra'id Azeri

Motorized Rifle Section – Ra'is AK-74 AR, DPM LMG, Hand Grenade

Motorized Rifle Section – 'Arif AK-74 AR, PKM LMG[2], RPG-7

Motorized Rifle Section – Ra'is AK-74 AR, DPM LMG, Hand Grenade

Motorized Rifle Section [support] 82mm Mortar

Motorized Rifle Section [support] NSV 14.5mm Heavy Machinegun

**INTF – BDE S – Iraqi Army, 10th Division, 4th BDE, 203rd Battalion **

HMMWV; SKOT2AP OT-64C, BTR-50, and BMP-1 personnel carriers; mixed Soviet and US trucks Ra'id Muhaim

**4-1-203rd Battalion **

Motorized Rifle Section – Ra'is AK-74 AR, PKM LMG, Hand Grenade

Motorized Rifle Section – 'Arif AK-74 AR, PKM LMG[2], RPG-7

Motorized Rifle Section – Ra'is AK-74 AR, PKM LMG, Hand Grenade

BMP-1

BMP-1

BMP-1

BRDM-ATGM Konkurs Ra'is Tariq

BRDM-ATGM Konkurs Ra'is Saad

BRDM-ATGM Konkurs Ra'is Mohammed

BRDM-ATGM Konkurs *'Arif al-Sapir

**4-2-203rd Battalion **

Motorized Rifle Section – Ra'is AK-74 AR, PKM LMG, RPG-22

Motorized Rifle Section – 'Arif AK-74 AR, PKM LMG[2], RPG-7

Motorized Rifle Section – Ra'is AK-74 AR, PKM LMG, RPG-14

MT-LB Ra'is Hammami

*MT-LB Ra'is Sadoon

MT-LB

BRDM-2 Naqib Ali

Scout Section

BRDM-2 DVR ***Arif Rafid T'lass**

Scout Section ***Ra'is Khalil As'sam**

**4-3-203rd Battalion **

Motorized Rifle Section – Ra'is AK-74 AR, PKM LMG, Hand Grenade

Motorized Rifle Section – 'Arif AK-74 AR, PKM LMG[2], RPG-7

Motorized Rifle Section – Ra'is AK-74 AR, PKM LMG, RPG-7

BTR-50

BTR-50

BTR-50

BRDM-2

Scout Section

HMMWV 'Arif Bahi

Scout Section


End file.
